Daz stared at the intricate piece of metal lying before him atop his personal workshop's largest workbench.

It was a hammer about the same height as Daz himself and it was made entirely out of a mix of ordinary copper, steel and tungsten, just as he felt Sandy would have liked - simple and not overly ornate.

The hammer was fixed upon a stone platform with a plaque of gold on its front. Engraved upon this plaque were many words that each contained Daz's true feelings.

He had no plans to read them now though, not after having just engraved them. No, he'd use them as his speech for the coming funeral.

Daz sat in silence for a while as he felt his emotions sweltering within his soul. "System, were I to die, would my control over Earth's circles of reincarnations and afterlives become open for anyone to obtain?"

Ownership of planet [Earth]'s [Planet Soul System Upgrade [Independent Soul Circle]] is required for that information. Confirmed that the host meets the requirements.

Denied. Even should the host cease to exist, no one bar [Daz Crowthorne] may access or alter planet [Earth]'s [Planet Soul System Upgrade [Independent Soul Circle]].

'That's good... No matter what, Sandy's soul is safe then,' Daz thought.

Not a moment later, his face felt wet. Confused, he raised a hand to see what was going on. "Am... Am I crying?"

He could see his reflection in Sandy's tombstone and, low and behold, tears were dripping out of his eyes, making for a rather contrasting image given that his face was currently emotionless.

Never had he shed tears before. Not when he was beaten daily, not when he felt love for the first time, not when he put a foot through death's doorstep. Never. Not until now, at least.

"There's a first for everything, I suppose," he mumbled as he wiped his eyes.

A few minutes later, he carefully stored Sandy's headstone and left to get it enchanted by the gnomes who ran his army's main blacksmithy.

----------------------------------------

"The Dark Lord has returned!"

"Praise be to the Dark Lord!

"Has the Dark Lord brought more chestnuts?"

"We build whatever the Dark Lord wants!"

"The Dark Lord feels more dark lordy today!"

The gnome's smithy had been moved from Fort Skip some months ago to central Fort Home and it had been lucky enough to survive the Truthian assault.

The many local residents present who were apprentices to the gnomes or just citizens looking to buy materials or obtain enchantments to help rebuild Fort Home were shocked at the little devils' attitude towards their king.

Usually, the gnomes worked in absolute silence or only spoke when absolutely necessary. They also, under no circumstances, ever touched anyone. Not even people like Daz whose class revolved around a shovel were treated so kindly by the gnomes.

However, all present were witnessing the little fellows drop everything they were doing to hound him with questions, praise, and comments, all the while they hung onto his legs and clambered over his body.

Some reporters had seen Daz leave Fort Skip and decided to follow him through the town. They took pictures of the interaction between him and the gnomes and their curiosity as to why he was here spiked through the roof.

Daz reached into his Industrial Item Box and pulled out a potato sack which was bursting to the brim with freshly roasted chestnuts.

"Of course I brought you guys a snack. I'm sorry for not visiting more often," Daz said as he appeared unphased by the little critters using his body as a playground.

"No need to apologise, Dark Lord!"

"So many chestnuts!"

"Dark Lord is a busy lord. We know!"

"We happy you came to visit."

The master gnome stepped forward. While his eyes were covered by massive eyebrows that dropped all the way down to his chest, he still couldn't hide his joy at seeing Daz.

"What do you need from us today, Dark Lord? We'll do it straight away!" the master gnome declared, to which every gnome agreed instantly.

'My class's affinity for these guys is ridiculous...' Daz thought with a shake of his head. "May we speak in private?"

"Of course, Dark Lord!"

"Drop everything! We must help the Dark Lord!"

Daz smiled faintly. "Thank you, but I only require the master's help. It wouldn't be very wise of me to take up all of you for my needs when the kingdom yet bleeds."

The reporters quickly noted that line down. It'd make for a brilliant highlight in their news articles.

"The Dark Lord speaks in poems!"

"The Dark Lord is wise!"

"Praise be to the chestnut-bringer!"

"Praise be!"

The master gnome nodded and ordered his fellow kinsmen back to work, which they only did after each pilfering the chestnut sack to their heart's content.

Daz then, once in a private forging room, got the master gnome to enchant Sandy's headstone. The metal hammer was now immune to rusting, degradation, vandalism and minor explosions.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Normally, such a service would cost a person upwards of 20,000 crows - the national currency. Not a small amount by any means for your average citizens.

Of course, for Daz, the gnome rendered his services completely for free bar the expense of a few extra chestnuts.

----------------------------------------

A few hours later, Daz was standing in Fort Home's grand cemetery with Madison and Rose by his side while hundreds of thousands to millions of people watched him live or through television feeds.

'There's nothing grand about this place,' Daz thought as he looked around at the graves which once called Fort Skip their home but had been moved to the city.

'Sandy was the one to give their eulogy after the Frost Phoenix attack and now I'm here about to give his... Life sure works in mysterious ways, huh?' Daz contemplated.

He shook his head a little and gathered his thoughts. Madison squeezed his hand and asked, "Daz, okay?"

Daz nodded. "Yes, thank you. I'll be fine."

He stepped forward with Hamson in hand.

An area had been prepared for Sandy's final resting place. An intricate coffin in the shape of an ornate smoking pipe was at one side along with the handcrafted headstone Daz had worked on all through the evening of last night.

A large mausoleum had been constructed personally by Sandy's apprentice, Carl. It was tall and magnificent and very... unlike Sandy. 'He definitely wouldn't have wanted anything so fancy... Still, he certainly deserves it.'

With one swing of his shovel and without invoking any skills at all, a patch of the perfect grass in the centre of the mausoleum gave way, revealing a flawlessly dug hole.

A bitter feeling welled up inside of Daz. He hadn't expected his first public usage of his Ember of Digging to be practised in the effort of burying one of his closest friends. However, here he was doing just that.

Daz moved his free hand to point at the headstone and coffin. Thankfully, whoever had crafted the pipe casket had included some opals in its design.

Daz had put some grey jasper into the stone foundation of the headstone, so with a thought and the utilisation of Astral Crystal Control, he moved both items with ease.

Everyone watched in silence as Daz proceeded to effortlessly bury the hero of Fort Skip.

Once he was done, he turned to the crowd. He stood there in silence for a moment before saying, "I have no speech prepared. I only wish to repeat the words I carved out for Sandy on his headstone, so I'll do that."

He cleared his mind and spoke from the heart as he perfectly recited the words he'd spent hours deciding upon the prior night.

"Hero of Fort Skip. A Father of New Earth. Mentor, friend and family to me. Habitual smoker and constant complainer. Alistair 'Sandy' Cliff," Daz stated.

Silence rained over the massive crown and all eyes rested upon him as they listened.

"Sandy was always busy. Even when he was relaxing, he was thinking up new ways to innovate, to build, to better New Earth. As the kingdom's leading construction expert, he helped lay the foundation for a brighter future which all could enjoy, both figuratively and literally," Daz said as he gestured all around himself at the smouldering ruins of Fort Home.

"However, deep beneath his unending skills and numerous obligations, Sandy had a dream. He wanted to become the best blacksmith there ever was. In his spare time, he worked with many individuals, myself included, to repair a salvaged mechanical airship from a prior endured wave assault of the system's. He saw its completion but his dream will never be fulfilled. Not now," Daz said as an unprecedented sadness overwhelmed him.

As if infected by his mood, he saw grief and pain in many people in the crowd, even some of the foreign reporters, oddly enough.

Still, he continued with his recital. "Never will the System's spectroverse witness his rise to greatness as the best blacksmith there ever was. That opportunity was robbed from him. His life was ended at the hands of the Church of Truth too soon. The world wasn't ready for him to leave it just yet."

He looked down and smiled bitterly. He could feel his emotions taking control of him so he didn't speak any further and just focused on calming himself.

Soon he heard fists being clenched and tears being spilt among the crowd. He shook his head softly and found the strength to continue.

"I, High King Daz Crowthrone, pledge to avenge you and ensure you are never forgotten. Sandy, you were a legend among legends. You still are. You wouldn't want us to miss you, so instead, we'll celebrate you. Rest, friend. You've earned it," Daz said as he turned and approached the headstone.

He gently pressed his palm against it and finished by saying, "Alistair 'Sandy' Cliff. Born May 4th 1964 - Died January 21st 2018. Epitome authored by High King Daz Crowthorne of New Earth."

Thunderous applause came from behind him though he didn't turn. Daz just stared at the headstone.

'You really wouldn't have cared about any of this... Thinking on it, it's not even practical. I've already let your soul move on.' He recalled how he had cried just a few short hours ago over his own feelings regarding the matter.

'That would be better. If everyone could just deal with their grief in private... Still, culture is a difficult thing to deal with. By respecting you so much in death as our culture demands of a man so accomplished as you, we are actually disrespecting you and what you would have truly wished for,' Daz smiled, feeling somewhat lost on the matter.

Eventually, he faced the crowd once more. He felt their pride and anger, their upset and respect, he felt their everything.

"Thank you for coming today. That is all," he declared before leaving.

The event of Sandy's funeral continued in the hands of the other officials present so people with connections to him could pay their respects to his grave themselves.

Madison and Rose were by his side as he left and while his mind continued to ponder over the truth behind respect and what Sandy would have truly wished for, a foreign energy invaded Daz.

While foreign, however, it wasn't unfamiliar to him nor to Madison who had recently obtained the Ember of Edges.

"New, Ember?" Madison asked curiously.

Rose stopped what she was doing as well to look at her brother who was now standing still with his eyes closed.

Daz didn't reply immediately as he enjoyed the feeling of the new Ember seeping into his very being, joining the other Embers which also belonged to him.

Congratulations! The host has successfully gained insight into the [Ember of Empathy].

Daz furrowed his brow. "Yes. It's a weird one though, and one I don't know of any practical use assuming it does what I think it does."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Ember of Empathy? Interesting... That's, like, the last one I ever thought you'd get, to be honest."

"Of course you identified it without asking if you could first," Daz admonished with a short sigh.

He immediately felt the waves of emotion fluctuation off of both his fiancée and his little sister. Madison seemed to be happy though a deep sadness was hidden underneath that joy, presumably due to the death of Sandy and so many others.

Rose, on the other hand, was clouded in too many emotions to make sense of any of them. "... You're a hard person to read, Rose."

"Hmm?" she gave him a funny glance before a look of understanding and a smirk overcame her expression. "With great intellect comes great stress. Don't underestimate my workload, oh dear elder brother. I wonder how that Ember works though beyond its surface-level ability..."

"Want to help me test it? Madison too? I need a distraction," Daz admitted.

His life was going to get incredibly busy soon, so some time to experiment would be of great aid to his mental health, he felt.

Madison nodded with vigour. "Mmm! Would, love!"

Rose, however, shook her head. "Sorry. Some idiot with a crown gave me, like, 15 jobs to do. Even coming out for Sandy's funeral was pushing it."

"Huh," Daz said before stroking his chin, "I certainly don't wear a crown... Is there another incredibly handsome and amazing man giving you orders who I don't know about? Should I let Vanessa know she has competition?"

"Oh, fuck off," Rose snapped back with a roll of the eyes. "I wasn't being literal."

She controlled her chair and sped off, leaving her parental figures alone. Daz laughed a little though his expression soon darkened again.

Madison poked his side. "Mean."

"She's just as cruel half the time," Daz argued. "Besides, a joke or two are sorely needed right now. Crusher often talks about how laughter is healthy and Mu drills me to be light-hearted when I can to ease my mental burdens."

"Still... don't, mean, Rose," Madison said with a pout. "Test, now?"

Daz nodded as he took her hand in his and then led her to Castle Crowthrone's rooftop garden. He was glad his Ember of Empathy didn't seem to work on himself.

He was scared of what he would feel otherwise. For now, he'd spend some time with Madison, and, hopefully, he could come to better terms with Sandy's passing.