He met the others at the top of the dungeon. Edgar’s face was grim, and Jonathan immediately turned to him. “Did you find something?”
He lifted up a small wooden token, with a symbol that Jonathan remembered vividly on it. It was a tree growing in the middle of a swamp, with corpses hanging from its boughs in place of fruit. It was the symbol of the Swamp Raiders, the mercenary group that Branth had been a part of briefly, along with Jonathan.
“Was there anything else?” Jonathan said, his voice flat.
Edgar shrugged. “A few scraps of fabric, some blood, but nothing else. Either he died and his corpse was removed, or he was taken by force somewhere else.”
Jonathan growled. “So he’s gone. I wish he could have seen the end of Slothari’s reign.”
“He would have been happy for Mire to be liberated, even if he himself did not manage to witness it,” Edgar replied, clutching the token tightly.
Hushar took a breath. “Let us not forget him then. In fact, we should have a funeral for all of those who perished in the fight to save Mire.”
Jonathan looked at the man in surprise. “That’s a great idea, but I thought your people just burned the dead on pyres?”
“I’m not in Tartarus. We should use the customs of this land.”
Jonathan nodded. “Very well. Let’s get to work then. Before we leave for the next realm, we need to honor the sacrifices of those who made this possible.”
***
The funeral ceremony took three days to plan and construct. A series of coffins were made for the occasion, and those whose bodies were still retrievable were found.
On a bleak, overcast day, Jonathan stood before a crowd of hundreds of thousands, a good portion of the Oozing Bastion’s population. Others had more pressing things to take care of, which Jonathan had decided to let take precedence. His entire mission was to free the Hells from tyranny. That could not happen if he simply replaced one tyrant with another, no matter how pure he thought his motives were.
Once the crowd had gone silent, he raised his hand, and clenched it into a fist. “This was the fist that liberated Mire,” he began, summoning the blazing purple fire of the Void to it. “However, that fist was supported by thousands more. Behind me are the remains of the heroes that fought and died in the service of creating a better world.” Jonathan paused.
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“They will not be forgotten,” Edgar said, using the wind to project his voice across the land.
“They will not be forgotten!” A roar rang out from the crowd.
“They will not be forgotten!” Hushar roared, receiving the same reply. Each of the elites did the same, and by the time it had finished, the air still reverberated with the noise of the crowd.
“The journey to salvation is a long one,” Jonathan said. “Hell is a place of layers, and Mire is but the second. One day though, I shall stand before the dark throne of Angranor, and free the Hells once and for all. The spirits of those who died will forever be behind me, my armor and my weapon against the forces seeking to conquer my resolve!”
He raised his hand, palm facing down, and used the ability of his crown for the first time. The earth behind him buckled, and a wave of mud surged up. Each of the coffins was borne aloft on a tendril of mud, before being gently conveyed into the depths of the earth. Soon there was no trace left of their presence. Then Jonathan clenched his fist, and a cross made from compressed earth formed above the mass grave. The symbolism meant nothing to the people of this world, but it meant a lot to Jonathan.
He turned to the cross, and bowed low, quickly followed by the others. Then he strode away, through the rapidly parting crowd. It was time to leave Mire for good.
Before he could find his way out of the crowd though, he was approached by a young woman. Her level was surprisingly high though, nearly Tier 3. That raised his suspicion.
“A word, Lord Harlowe?” She called out.
“Yes?” Jonathan replied, readying his gauntlets for a potential attack.
“How long has it been since you have seen the light of the Sun? Or walked the fields of Earth?” She said, instantly getting Jonathan’s full attention.
“Earth? You know of Earth?”
“Of course. I am from there. So are you,” the woman said, smiling. “I wish to use my abilities to aid in your quest to save the Hells.”
Jonathan activated his Blessing before he continued, watching for any potential attacks. However, there were none. The woman seemed as innocent as she looked.
“What’s your name?” He asked, after a short pause.
“Eliza.”
“Who is this?” Edgar interrupted, stepping next to Jonathan.
Jonathan turned slightly. “Apparently, there has been another Outsider here all along.”
“Really? That seems like a strange coincidence. They appear so rarely…”
“You can ask me questions about Earth,” Eliza said, smiling. “I can answer them.”
“What country did you come from?” Jonathan said, starting easy.
“I’m from the United States. I grew up on a farm in Oklahoma,” Eliza replied calmly.
“What year did you leave?”
“I was taken here in 2023. I’ve haven’t been here for that long, as you can probably guess from my level,” she said, a slight grin on her face. “Although, that will hopefully change.”
“Alright. Finally, what year was the first Moon landing?” Jonathan queried, a question that nobody not actually from Earth would have a chance of knowing.
“The first Moon landing was in 1969. Are you satisfied now?” Eliza asked in turn.
“I am. If you can get to Tier 3 within the next week, you can come to Cessation with us. We need all the help we can get. Have you unlocked your Divinity yet?”
“I have,” Eliza replied, summoning a small golden flame to her hand. “So far, the only use I’ve discovered for it is this.”
“I’ll teach you how to use it to empower your body,” Jonathan said. “You’ll have to teach me whatever that is though.”
Eliza grinned. “Deal.”