The grand bonfire burned, and the bell tower in the distance rang. Amidst the fragrance of the chrysanthemum that filled the entire city, the Saint Sunil Empire was shrouded in a layer of hazy and dreamy smoke. The flames that filled the entire city seemed to be fighting against the gradually darkening night, creating a city of light under the starry sky.
This reminded people of the Dark Age that had already become a legend, of the second pioneering that decided the fate of mankind. In the dark and chaotic demonic tide, did the ancestors also light up a huge bonfire like today, like a lighthouse in the darkness, guiding their compatriots who were lost in the depths of the demonic tide to come closer to them?
This was perhaps another hidden meaning behind the bonfire on the night of the Requiem Festival.
Looking at the flickering flames in front of him and listening to the etiquette officer reading the lengthy requiem prayer, Wales Moen was silent with no expression on his face. This nominal ruler of the Ansu Empire stood in the courtyard of the Moen ancestors like an outsider. The little sparks from the bonfire jumped up and down in front of him, flying into the dark night with the steaming hot wind, gradually merging with the late autumn sky. In that night sky, he could not see the face of Charlie Moen, his distant and unfamiliar bloodline ancestor.
A series of light footsteps came from behind him, and this middle-aged crown prince suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of peace enveloping his body and mind. He glanced at a light that appeared in the air, turned around, and saw Veronica Moen standing beside him in a white dress.
On the chest of this Saintess Princess, a small white flower was blooming under the nourishment of the holy light, holy and beautiful.
"Good evening, brother," Veronica said with that tranquil smile on her face that seemed to never change, bowing slightly.
"Veronica …" Wales Moen looked at his genius sister with some surprise. "Shouldn't you be praying in the cathedral?"
"Today is the Requiem Festival, the first Requiem Festival after father passed away," Veronica said calmly. "The Lord will be forgiving."
This was not something that a 'Saintess Princess' who was as pious as a textbook would say, but Wales Moen knew that his sister was different from ordinary people since she was young. She always had her own ideas and countless clever reasons to make her actions seem logical, so he just nodded slightly and did not ask any more questions.
After an awkward moment of silence, Wales took the initiative to say, "Duchess Victoria came and told me something."
"You're going to be king."
Wales was a little surprised. "How did you know?"
"It's not hard to guess. In such a situation, the Duke Regent has few choices, and today is the Requiem Festival. In front of the ancestors, it's appropriate for her to tell you this," Veronica said calmly, and then bowed slightly. "Brother, congratulations."
Wales frowned slightly. That was not what he wanted to hear. He looked into Veronica's eyes, which as always had a gentle and trustworthy smile, but in his eyes, those eyes were like a lifelike imitation carved out of gemstones — magnificent, beautiful, but lifeless. It was a kind of look that was neither malicious nor kind, and he could not help but turn his head away awkwardly.
It seemed that no one had felt the slightest difference in the temperament of the Saintess Princess. Everyone treated her as a gift from the heavens, a symbol of all the good spirits of Ansu. But Wales always felt an inexplicable strangeness when he was with Veronica when she was young. Under this strange pressure, he tried to avoid being alone with Veronica. But today was the Requiem Festival, and he had no reason to leave the courtyard early.
So he could only stay and try to change the topic. "I heard that the situation of the royal army is gradually improving after the Ecclesiastical Templars went to the battlefield …"
"It's only improved to the extent that they can hold the eastern rebels in a stalemate," Veronica replied. "And a big part of the reason for the stalemate is that the weather is getting colder. Fighting in winter is not good for both sides."
"… Is that so? I didn't think of that." Wales laughed self-deprecatingly. "You see, I'm not fit to be king. I can't even think of that."
"No one is born fit to be king. You've just been away from the Silver Castle for too long." Veronica said as she looked at the bonfire in the courtyard. After a few seconds, she suddenly said something that seemed to come out of nowhere. "… This year's Requiem Festival has twice as many bonfires as in previous years."
Wales was stunned for a moment before he reacted. "It's because of the war."
"The dead believers will return to the kingdoms of the gods, and the non-believers will all fall into the mansion of the Grim Reaper. The souls have their own places to go, but people are willing to believe that the departed souls will step on the petals of the Death Heralding Chrysanthemum to return home and reunite with the living … Brother, do you believe that the souls will come back and look at us in the fire?"
Wales could not help but look at the bonfire in the courtyard. The bright flames danced in the night sky, but there was nothing in the hazy curtain formed by the flames and smoke. But he could not help but imagine that there was a moment when the face of Francis II appeared in the swaying curtain. The old king leaned on his scepter and looked at him indifferently. There was no expectation in his eyes.
"I hope that they can rest in peace in the kingdom of God." Wales said and looked at Veronica beside him. "What about you? As a living saint of the God of Holy Light, can you see our father and ancestors in the fire? "
Veronica was silent for a moment, then turned and left. "I can't see anything."
So can I. Wales Moen said in his heart.
Then he looked up and saw the smoke rising from the bonfire floating straight into the night sky. It merged with more smoke at a very high and far place. The smoke from the countless bonfire converged into a huge cloud of smoke, and the stars gradually became blurry.
Under the night sky, in the largest square of Cecil City, the Pioneer Square, a huge bonfire was burning.
The mechanical clock in the center of the city rang eight times. An enormous hand of energy floated above the bonfire and sprinkled the powder made of black stones and fire phosphor into the bonfire. Along with a series of slight explosions, the bonfire suddenly became exceptionally bright and magnificent.
The crowd gathered around the bonfire cheered loudly, and with the cheers that shook the city, the large magic network terminal set up in the square was activated, and a huge holographic projection appeared above the square.
At the same time, the magic network terminals in the other squares of the city, in the surrounding cities, and in every town square along the cross axis of the Cecil Duchy were activated.
On this night, almost everyone gathered around the bonfire, and almost all the large bonfires were located in the squares of the various towns.
Cecil's people were no stranger to this "magic miracle", and they did not make a fuss, nor did they panic. People just looked up curiously and watched the figure that gradually appeared on the projection.
Gwen Cecil's figure appeared on the projection.
"Good evening, citizens, I am your lord."
The crowd was a little surprised, and some people immediately took off their hats to the holographic projection in the square, while some naive children shouted happily, and a bold child pointed at the holographic projection. "Look! My lord! "
The reckless child was immediately stopped by the adults, and the lord's voice continued from the holographic projection.
"Today is Requiem Day, a day to commemorate the dead. The origin of this holiday was to commemorate a noble, and today, we use it to commemorate our parents, brothers, and friends who have passed away …
In the Pioneer Square, Betty stared blankly at the large bonfire in front of her. She listened to the lord's voice from the holographic projection behind her, and she was quietly in a daze.
"In the early spring of 375, a disaster befell Old Cecil, and countless people left this world on that day …"
The night wind blew with smoke and dust, waking Betty from her daze. She watched the people around her begin to throw branches into the bonfire, so she also picked up a small branch that she had prepared, took a few steps forward, and threw the branch somewhat clumsily into the bonfire.
The small branch was quickly engulfed by the flames, and the little maid looked at the bright flames in a daze. In her not very bright mind, every flame seemed to turn into a face.
"Mrs. Hansen … Mrs. Morris … Uncle Taylor …"
Betty softly muttered the names that she had used a lot of effort to finally remember, and then suddenly bent down and bowed hard — with the signature bow, as if she was going to throw herself out.
"I survived!"
A figure passed by Betty, and it was Rebecca, who was also holding a branch in her hand. The heir of the Cecil family also threw the branch in her hand into the bonfire, and the flickering flames reflected on her face. The always reckless girl was unusually quiet at this moment, and she stood quietly for a while before saying softly, "Eight hundred and eighty of us survived … Father, I did my best."
Heti had unknowingly come to Rebecca's side. "Now everything is going well, and Rebecca has also grown a lot …"
Behind them, Gwen's holographic projection was still floating over the square, and his voice shook the air, spreading far and wide. "… To all the civilians who died tragically, may your souls rest in peace. To all the soldiers who sacrificed themselves, I salute you … May the dead rest in peace. Rest assured, Cecil will continue to move forward, and I promise you all …"
"To all the living and the dead, good night."
The holographic projection in the square gradually disappeared, and the people were silent in the solemn silence. In the 'studio' of the Mana Net Control Center, Gwen stepped down from the platform used to collect holographic images.
Amber came from the side, and the half-elf had a mischievous smile on her face. "You're going against the norm again, aren't you? It's always the civilians who commemorate the nobles, and it's the first time a noble commemorates the civilians, and 'salutes' at that …"
Gwen sighed slightly. "From now on, at least in Cecil's land, Requiem is a complete, ordinary memorial day … Even the scholars who specialize in history will not be obsessed with the original origin and meaning of Requiem."
"So your goal is that you don't want everyone to continue singing and dancing in celebration of your death in the future ~ ~"
Gwen quietly looked at Amber, who seemed to be asking for a beating, but he saw the unnatural look in the half-elf's eyes.
"Don't you have any relatives to commemorate?"
Amber turned her face away. "I don't even know my parents' names, and I'm not even sure if they're really dead. Who should I commemorate?"
"Then what about your foster father?"
Amber did not say anything until a few seconds later. "… He's a thief wanted by the nobles, and he was purified by the priests of the Holy Light when he died … There's no place for him in the bonfire of Requiem."
Gwen looked at Amber's side profile, and he finally understood why the half-elf was so obsessed with all the priests of the Holy Light.
"Your foster father … What crime did he commit?"
"He just wanted to find a book in the church, but accidentally knocked over the local lord's candle in the church. I've said before, he's a lousy thief … "
The room was quiet for a moment, and after a moment of silence, Gwen broke the silence. "I can't reverse the purification, but as the ruler of the south, I can pardon your foster father. What's his name? "
Amber looked at Gwen in surprise, and then reacted. "Surrey … His name is Surrey Randolph …"
Gwen was a little surprised. "He has a surname?"
"Yes, he has a surname. I've asked him, but he didn't say anything … I've also investigated many family genealogies in the south, but I couldn't find this surname."
"I see …" Gwen sighed. "Maybe he's a vassal of the fallen nobles. Anyway, Surrey Randolph is innocent. "
A word of pardon wouldn't bring the dead back to life, nor would it be able to summon the fallen souls from the lowest level of the Kingdom of the Dead. However, most of the time, what people wanted wasn't any practical meaning, but just a sense of relief.
Gwen gently patted Amber's shoulder. "Go while the bonfire is still burning."
In the next second, the half-elf's figure disappeared into the air.
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