“Kind of wish we had gotten a chance to take a longer shower,” Seo-ah complained as the driver pulled into the cleared-out parking space. It was still blocks away from the place where the funeral was located, but the road ahead had been torn up by the last fight between Grandfather Gallows and the dragon, making it impossible for the vehicle to take them farther.
Nick regretted having taken the limo Darleen had picked for them, as the potholes, debris, and other obstacles had turned what could have been a smooth and luxurious ride into a rather bumpy experience, one that felt like an rickety old wooden roller coaster trying to make it up the track rather than an expensive vehicle with state of the art shocks driving across a road.
“Yeah, after how cold it was on the other side, I definitely could have used much more time in a warm shower,” Nick agreed as he adjusted his tie. He had worn plenty of ties when he was younger, but for some reason, they all now felt like nooses more than the empowering accessory they used to be.
“It looks good on you,” Seo-ah told him, as if anticipating his frustration with the outfit. “I have to admit, I like the all-black suit.”
“You look nice too,” Nick replied, noting how good Seo-ah looked in her all black dress. “Though I feel a bit wrong finding you so attractive in mourning wear.”
Seo-ah smirked. “Well, you know—”
The car came to a stop, and the partition started to roll down to reveal Darleen on the other side, facing them.
“Alright, I believe I’ve already briefed you on the basics, but be warned that much of this event will be televised. The city has insisted, given the nature and location of Mr. Gallows’ departure from this world, that since we cannot move his body, and the location is city property, they are allowed rights to televise the memorial,” Darleen warned, likely meaning to emphasise one more reason for him to fulfill her earlier request.
“Don’t worry, Darleen. I’ll put in a few good words for the old man on your behalf,” Nick said as he opened the door before the driver could get it, turning to extend a hand and help Seo-ah out as well.
“You know I’d say I still hate the bastard,” Seo-ah whispered as Nick helped her out, “but I don’t know what I’d do without you, and he saved you. So you know, I guess you won’t have any pushback from me about using your usual Nick charm during the eulogy.”
“Well, thanks,” Nick told her as the two began to make their way into the event. It was an open-air area, surrounded by the remnants of the borough that Grandfather Gallows had saved from the dragon's wrath. Charred buildings stood as eerie reminders of the fierce battle that had taken place, their blackened walls now silent witnesses to the heroism of the man everyone had come to mourn. The ground beneath their feet still bore marks where the dragon's fiery breath had scorched the earth.
As Nick walked through the crowd, he picked up snippets of conversation that made his jaw clench. A cluster of well-dressed men and women huddled near the edge of the memorial site, their voices low but animated.
“They need to publicize and clarify their succession plan. It’s not right leaving valuable share-holders like us on the hook,” a tall man in an expensive suit muttered, his eyes darting furtively.
“Indeed. And it needs to be something better than just letting a random brat take it over. The Gallows empire is the lifeblood of our city; we can’t let it falter over some petty family infighting,” a stern-looking woman in a tailored blazer hissed. “Too much is at stake.”
“They’re members of the board of directors,” Darleen whispered as she joined Seo-ah and Nick.
“Mr. Horne, Ms. Watson, nice to see you again, though I wish it were under better circumstances,” he greeted them, showing Darleen that, despite his separation from the company, he still knew the key figures—mainly because he remembered them from his last life and the work they had done to save the farmlands at the edge of the city.
Mr. Horne shook Nick’s hand. “Sorry for your loss, Nick. Your grandfather was the foundation upon which the conglomerate was built and functioned. Without him . . .”
“Without him, you’re probably nervous about the company’s future, correct?” Nick interrupted, sussing out the actual meat of the matter. “Well, I’m sure that you’ll be glad to know that Grandfather made sure to transfer his shares of the company to me, along with his other assets, putting me firmly in place as majority shareholder. So there is no uncertainty about the future.”
“Will you be managing the company yourself then, Mr. Gallows?” Ms. Watson pushed this time, not even trying to circumvent a direct discussion on it.
“Of course not,” Nick told her. “It would be foolish for a man who has never even built a birdhouse to be in charge of building homes for people. I am still too young and inexperienced to handle managing a conglomerate the size of the one we have now. I’m going to be seeking assistance to make sure the company remains stable.”
“I wouldn’t say that at all. You’ve had such great success with your own ventures,” Mr. Horne replied, complimenting Nick.
“He may have, indeed, but he didn’t even win the heirship competition. Mr. Gallows, are you certain there won’t be legal disputes over management rights?” Ms. Watson asked.
He would have gotten annoyed by her insistent questions, but given who they came from and the contributions the two had made in his last life, he decided to be as patient as possible. They didn’t know it, but they had earned that and more with their actions in another life.
Mr. Horne’s expression brightened, but Ms. Watson frowned and remarked, “I thought Miss Rosemary Gallows won the competition and would take over.”
Nick turned on the charm and gave her his best assuring smile. He could see the pupils of her eyes widen as he did. “Well, things have changed, but don’t worry. My cousin Rosemary and my aunt Evelynne and I have come to an agreement, and they will have their place in the company too. And believe me, it will be for the best. Evelynne’s business acumen is on par with Grandfather’s.”
The two members of the board of directors nodded at his words and Nick dialed back the charisma, feeling only slightly guilty about using his stats in such a manner. But he needed the family company fully behind him if he was going to prepare for what was coming.
Nick wanted to say more, but just then the crowd parted and standing in the center of the destruction, was Grandfather Gallows—an immovable statue of steel and stone, adorned with flickering candles and fragrant flowers from the citizens thankful for his sacrifice.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Nick said to the two board members, his voice barely audible over the hushed murmurs of the gathered mourners. They nodded in understanding as Nick walked away and towards his grandfather’s remains.
The once-powerful patriarch stood ramrod-straight, his head held high and his sword planted firmly before him. Even in death, Grandfather Gallows exuded an aura of unyielding strength, his stoic expression frozen in time as if daring the very concept of mortality to challenge him.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Nick,” Seo-ah’s gentle touch on his arm caught his attention. “Your parents are here.”
Following her gaze, Nick spotted his mother and father standing near the front of the gathering. His father’s expression was flat and haggard while his mother’s inquisitive eyes studied it for cracks while holding his hand tightly. But when she looked at grandfather, Nick thought he saw a momentary glimpse of hatred, though it was so quick he couldn’t be sure.
Nick also noticed they weren’t the only ones there, as the rest of his aunts, uncles, and cousins had shown up in unison, a united front with only Roland and his uncle George missing as the Gallows shuffled through the scene. Evelynne and Rosemary lead the procession.
It took Nick a moment to find George, but when he did, he saw his uncle was standing alone like a pariah, staring with vacant eyes at Grandfather’s figure. His son, Evan, had died. His wife was missing. No one in the family was talking to him.
“Son,” Nick’s father greeted him as Nick’s parents approached, his voice gruff with emotion. “I’m glad you could make it.”
Nick nodded. “Father. Mother,” he replied, acknowledging them but not having anything else to add. The three of them stood there awkwardly, occasionally glancing back at the frozen man of the hour.
The silence was so unnerving. They didn’t seem to know how to interact anymore, and his mother wasn’t giving him the usual hug and trying to dote on him, likely due to the nature of the event. Nick guiltily felt relief when he heard a sob coming from behind him.
Turning to find the source, he saw Darleen, visibly distraught, her shoulders shaking, sniffling desperately as she tried to pull the snot back into her nose without using her hand to wipe it.
“Darleen?” Nick called softly as he approached her. “Do you need a moment?”
Darleen looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with a pain that seemed to go beyond mere professional loss. It was odd too, as despite the hundreds, if not thousands, of people slowly making their way to honor the deceased man, only she was crying. Even the old man’s own sons hadn’t shed a tear yet.
“Oh, Master Gallows,” she choked out. “Forgive me this one momentary dereliction of duty.”
Nick felt an unexpected pang of jealousy as he watched her true, unadulterated sorrow at his grandfather’s passing. Hers was the face of someone who had lost a loved one. She showed all the grief he could never feel for the man, never forgetting his grandfather’s cold, hard nature and how quickly he’d been cut off the moment he stepped out of line.
“Darleen, you know I can handle this on my own if you want to . . .” He paused mid-sentence, trying to think of how to word what he was about to say, not wanting to sound condescending. “If you want to take a moment to compose yourself. Why don’t you rest here too? You’ve been busy. and done a lot of great work today.”
“If you insist, Master Gallows,” Darleen replied, using a small tissue to dab her eyes in a way that didn’t smear her make-up.
“Then I’ll just head out for now, but if you want to talk about this later, I’m always here for you,” he told her before departing with Seo-ah.
“She seems to be taking the death very hard, compared to like… everyone else,” Seo-ah commented as they began to move through the throng of people.
“Yeah, well, I think he must have been like a father to her, and just her,” Nick said, as they gave polite head nods to a few people they recognized on their way back to their seats.
“I know, but you think with all of the charity works that he did, there would be more actual… mourners. I mean, I know we didn’t like him, but he single handedly propped up a lot of groups, charities, and programs,” Seo-ah told him. “With all of that work
“I don’t know? Maybe the type of people who were helped most by Grandfather, weren’t the type of people that had the pull needed to get into the event. I mean, look at the people here. Notice anything most of them have in common?” Nick said, pointing out the rows of people beside them as the two made their way to their seats in the front. She nodded, looking at the rows of seated old people. “The gray brigade. Your grandfather’s peers, and all richer than I ever thought I’d be growing up.”
“Exactly,” Nick said, concluding the subject as he looked at them, since it was obvious these weren’t the type of people that his Grandfather’s aid would have helped much. Many of them were not only financially powerful, but top dungeon divers as well. He recalled the stories he’d heard growing up about them. But in his first timeline, they were all dead by the time the Endless Night happened. Even though that event had been pushed up several years by the cultists, that such powerful people were still around meant that, if he could convince them to help, humanity might have a fighting chance against the dragons.
A voice cut through Nick’s thoughts.
“Excuse me, we would like to start the funeral,” a balding man wearing a dark robe said as he stood before the statue that Mr. Gallows Sr. had become.
There was a speech that Nick hardly paid attention to as it was full of empty funeral platitudes, condolences for those left behind, and vague details about his grandfather’s life, the kind of stuff you’d see on a wiki page.
The robed man then turned his attention to the Gallows family. “To his children, who carry on his name and honor his memory . . . to his grandchildren, who bear the weight of his legacy with pride and determination, the city and the world give our heartfelt condolences,” he said as he closed his speech, his voice carrying a note of practiced comfort for those grieving. “If anyone wishes to say a few words in memory of Grandfather Gallows, please come forward.”
A hush fell over the assembly as Nick looked around, checking to see if anyone else would volunteer. Seeing no one do so yet, he stood up and walked forward himself. When he reached the front and turned to face the crowd of mourners, he couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed, even angry. He didn’t even like his grandfather, but the stark contrast of Darleen’s face with the faces of the people who had lived off his grandfather’s earnings, who had suckled at the teat of his success, who lived and breathed only because of his sacrifice, somehow bothered him a lot more than it should have—especially given he was also one of those same indifferent faces a moment ago.
His eyes met Darleen’s. She had just barely composed herself, and he thought about her request. Fine, you want me to say something nice? I’ll say something nice, he thought as he looked at the secretary, his frustration with the situation spilling over in his thoughts.
“We gather here today not to mourn a mere man”—Nick paused—“but a noble man. It’s a distinction few of us would recognize, having grown up in families without titles, worked for bosses without peerage, and spent our days never coming across counts, barons, or anyone with a single title. In fact, even as his descendent, I don’t think I ever once truly understood what it meant to be a noble.
Watching him as a child, Grandfather felt eccentric and old fashioned,”—Nick turned to his grandfather’s petrified corpse—“because there were no other noble men like him. Besides him, our city had no example of the nobility he cherished. It was part of his every being in a way that was hard to describe, and even if I tried, the attempt would fall far short. But his nobility never needed description. You can see it instead in every child his charities helped. I know that, for many, the scholarships he put together might have seemed like corporate marketing schemes, but to him, they were a noble’s duty, and now thousands of people have the jobs and opportunities they aspired to because of him.
He took care of every member of the company, feeding them, clothing them, and making sure they all had enough money for retirement, not as some way to incentivize people to work a few extra hours but because he felt he owed them that care for helping him maintain his noble name. If there was one thing I remember, one lesson drilled into me a thousand times, it was that being a noble meant you had to be willing to sacrifice everything to honor that nobility and the responsibilities it came with.
When the monsters threatened to destroy the city, and he stepped forward and fought that dragon, he didn’t know if he would live or die. He didn’t stop to guess how he’d be remembered. In his eyes, he was a noble, a crown atop his head. Because of that, he had only one option: to protect you as if you were his own children. That was his self-imposed duty.” Nick paused his speech, thinking about how despite their massive differences in how they viewed others, he too had been shackled with a nearly identical duty to protect those around him. “Because of that duty, I lost my grandfather. But I’m not going to let his mission end with him.
I know that if he were here right now, he’d remind me of my charge. He’d tell me, like he told me a thousand times before, what it means to be a noble and what my duty is. That we have to protect everyone and, with every action, be people we ourselves would follow of our own volition. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to strive, like my grandfather before me, to be a person I’d be willing to follow. To my family and the other nobility in attendance, I can only hope that you will help me in this quest. Let us honor Grandfather Gallows, the grandfather of an entire city, by being the type of people we’d follow. By being nobles, worthy of the title, as we protect this city and its people as my grandfather did before us.”
With that, Nick lowered his head, before turning back to face his grandfather one last time and muttering, just loud enough for the audience behind him to hear, “May you rest in peace, old man.”