Chapter 937 — Obituary
Blade of Dawn · Page 4 of 4
If a god had truly fallen, then humans could only mourn in this way, Morgan thought. He felt that the reason these eulogies seemed odd to him was simply that... in his limited lifetime, he had never yet witnessed the fall of a god.
Now, he might truly be about to witness one.
On the printout in Benjamin's hand, the closing words were clear and sharp: "...We mourn with profound grief Lady Milmina, Goddess of Magic, and lament Her fall. A god so diligent and devoted deserves the remembrance of all mortals—at least of all humankind. To express our mourning and remembrance of the Goddess of Magic Milmina, after joint deliberation and decision by Emperor Gao Yang Cecil, the Empire's Supreme Administrative Hall, and the Empire's Theological Administration, a 'Divine Funeral' and commemorative ceremony shall be held on the 45th day of this month. On that day, sirens, alarm bells, and horns shall sound throughout the nation, and the Imperial Dragoons shall conduct a grand send-off ceremony...
"His Imperial Majesty hereby calls upon all spellcasters throughout the nation to observe a moment of silence on that day, to express our grief..."
Morgan Hugo closed his eyes. Though he was not a devout believer in the Goddess of Magic—or rather, almost no one was a devout believer in the Goddess of Magic—the heartfelt words of this eulogy still struck deep into his heart. He seemed to feel the sorrow with which His Imperial Majesty had written these words, and was deeply moved by the emotion conveyed through the text.
As for the odd turns of phrase in that eulogy, and the strangeness of the bulletin itself... at this moment they no longer seemed to matter much.
What else could be written? No one had ever been through anything like this...
...
"This news will spread across the whole country soon enough..."
Windsor Mabel sighed softly, her gaze sweeping over the original manuscript before her, her expression beyond description, neither sorrow nor joy.
Daniel sat across from her, the old mage's face as cold and faintly gloomy as ever: "In fact, it has already gone out across the country through the transmission tower network; only the newspapers and public notices at the far end will be delayed a little. But that hardly matters. The mages control the vast majority of communication resources—they will be the first to receive the news."
"Next... we must seriously prepare for the 'funeral,'" Windsor said with a nod. "This is our first joint operation with the Cecilians, and moreover a hasty collaboration with so little preparation time. His Majesty hopes we will give it our all and not make the slightest misstep in front of the Cecilians."
"Of course, none of us will fail His Majesty's expectations," a faint, barely perceptible smile seemed to appear at the corner of Daniel's mouth, though it vanished in an instant. "Then I shall take my leave first—the 'Transnational Funeral Committee' is waiting for me."
Windsor rose to see him off, watching the old mage leave the room and disappear into the depths of the corridor. Only then did she withdraw her gaze and murmur softly, as if to herself, or as if seeking proof once more: "Goddess of Magic..."
In the spiritual world there was no feedback at all; at the end of the prayer there was only emptiness.
In the end, Windsor received no response—the Goddess of Magic was, it seemed, truly dead.