Madmen don't keep diaries

Chapter 299 298 The Funeral of the Black Flag Descendant

At the break of dawn.

A thin morning mist hung over the square in front of the cathedral, and the mist mingled with the priests' robes, turning into barely perceptible dew.

The sunlight failed to penetrate the leaden-gray haze. In front of the solemn grand hall, priests gathered in twos and threes, conversing in hushed tones in a solemn atmosphere. This scene seemed to be frozen in a black and white photograph.

Feng Xiuhu put on the priest's robe for the first time in a long time and met Yukhu, whom he had not seen for a long time.

Today's funeral was presided over by Yukhu.

As former colleagues, Yukhu and Konatchen had a tacit cooperation, and Yukhu also harbored resentment towards Konatchen after being wrongly accused, but these emotions are not suitable to be expressed today.

This is a basic respect for the deceased.

"His spirit has been banished to the Land of Mist, awaiting its dissipation over time."

While waiting, Yukehu and Feng Xiuhu chatted quietly.

"But Konatchen is, after all, a bishop, so a dignified farewell is necessary."

Feng Xiuhu looked around; there were familiar faces in the crowd, as well as strangers.

Priests like Salutau, Milercaul, and Gamju, who had previously served under Conatchen, were all present. Although the rest of the priests were unfamiliar to him, they all shared one thing in common—they were all foreigners.

"Why don't I see the teacher?"

Feng Xiuhu asked.

Yukhu shook his head: "Elder Vadra is not attending, and not only him, Archbishop Toverson will also not be present."

"Because from the church's perspective, Konat Chan is ultimately a sinner."

"Therefore, Konatachen was not allowed to be buried as a clergyman, much less to have a funeral as a bishop."

Feng Xiuhu asked in confusion, "Then today..."

Yukhu explained, “Today’s funeral will be held according to the customs of the Ozma Empire—aside from his priesthood, Konatchen remains a brave Ozma man and a proud descendant of the Black Flag.”

Feng Xiuhu suddenly understood.

He knew little about the Ozma Empire, having only heard snippets of information from Mike.

For example, it is the country with the most coastal areas among the five great empires of the Western Continent, and it was once the region where pirates were most rampant, and still retains many customs left over from the pirate era.

As I pondered, the heavy doors of the main hall slowly opened.

The priests gathered in the square made way for the central path, standing solemnly on both sides and casting their gazes in respect behind the gate.

Feng Xiuhu followed the gaze.

Six deacons carried a boat-shaped coffin out of the doorway.

They walked down the steps with heavy steps, then passed through the crowds on both sides and continued forward.

As he passed by, Feng Xiuhu looked down.

The ship's coffin had no lid, and inside lay the peaceful and serene Konatchen. His bishop's robes had been removed, but his arms were still crossed in a gesture of respect in front of his chest. His entire body was tightly wrapped in a fishing net, and the outermost layer was bound with silver chains.

The crowd moved forward with the boat coffin.

Feng Xiuhu walked beside Youkehu: "Where are we going?"

"pier."

Yukhu replied in a low voice.

……

The streets were not crowded in the early morning, and the few people who saw the procession of priests consciously kept their distance.

After walking for a long time, we finally arrived at the seaside in the port area.

The deacons lowered the boat coffin, and everyone looked at Yukhu, who was in charge of presiding over the funeral.

It was his turn to appear.

Yukhu stepped forward calmly.

He stretched out his hand, and the deacon on his right respectfully handed him a tattered canvas, while the deacon on his left held up a jar of red dye with both hands.

Yukhu dipped a canvas in dye and painted the symbol of the Ozma Empire on the bow of the ship.

Feng Xiuhu glanced at it a few times and recognized that it was shaped like a fog light.

After finishing the imperial emblem, Yukhu hesitated before proceeding to the next step.

A moment later, he picked up his brush again and drew the ship's wheel emblem representing the Church of the Mist in the empty space. The priests present all saw this action; some hesitated to speak, but ultimately chose to remain silent.

After finishing the last stroke, Yukhu threw the tattered canvas onto Konatchen's chest, crossed his arms in a gesture of respect: "May the mist bestow its final mercy and guide you on your way home."

The priests bowed in unison: "Praise be to the mist."

The two deacons silently withdrew, and two more deacons stepped forward carrying containers.

From the container, Yukhu grabbed a handful of iron filings with his left hand and a handful of sulfur with his right, then held them in the air and poured both substances onto Konatchen.

He closed his eyes and spoke in a deep voice: "Descendant of the Black Flag, may you still smell the scent of blood and gunpowder in the depths of the sea."

As these words fell, several elderly foreigners from the priests stepped forward and began to sing in unison a foreign song that Feng Xiuhu had never heard before.

Their deliberately hoarse singing voice is like the suppressed cough of an old sailor, yet it has a unique charm.

"Let the storm take your lungs,"

"Let the abyss take your eyes,"

"Let the fog hold your soul,"

"Let the sea drink your blood dry."

"Heh heh! Let the bloodstained rudder turn by itself,"

"Put on the last rusty anchor tip."

"Come quick, distribute the shark tooth necklaces!"

"Come quickly, check the bill for the pearls!"

"Heh heh! Let the bloodstained rudder turn by itself,"

"Put on the last rusty anchor tip."

"Go, write your will on the sail!"

"Go, measure the abyss with your leg bones!"

As the song played, the last two deacons pried open the wooden barrel and poured in the amber-colored liquid, which soaked Conat Chen's clothes and accumulated to a great depth at the bottom of the ship's coffin.

The six deacons stepped forward again and worked together to push the boat coffin into the water.

Yukhu struck a match and lit it.

"Go, Konat, return to the embrace of the sea... Your name will be forever etched on the dragon bones."

Before the match burned out, Yukhu threw it into the boat coffin.

A raging fire broke out, and amidst the singing, the coffin drifted out to sea.

The pirate song also came to an end at this point, the rousing melody gradually turning into a low hum.

"The death knell is changing its tune,"

"The chants of the work team grew into a green tide,"

“The vortex swept away the rhyme scheme of the eulogy,”

"It turns out to be a sunken ship laughing loudly on the seabed."

Yukhu gently stroked the gem at the tip of his short staff, his magic gathering into a mist that propelled the coffin on its continued journey.

As the priests watched them go, the flickering flames seemed to bid farewell to everyone.

Until it completely disappeared from people's sight.

Feng Xiuhu was thoroughly entertained.

Although it was a funeral, the sense of novelty it brought him was in no way diminished.

He longed to see the outside world even more.

Perhaps because of Konat Chan's sensitive status, no one shed tears at the scene. After the funeral, the priests did not linger and left one by one.

Feng Xiuhu yawned. He had gotten up early today and planned to go back to sleep while there was still time.

"and many more."

But Yukhu called out to him.

"I heard you've been quite free lately. Would you mind doing me a favor?"

(End of this chapter)