The terrifying high temperature scorched its body, and although a normal Gluttonous Sli supposedly lacked the organs to make sound, in that mont, it still emitted an agonizing wail discernible to any person.
Thus, having given up resistance, the Gluttonous Sli, along with its host, burned to ashes.
Starting with that Gluttonous Sli, one after another, the slis, which seed to have never harbored much resistance, leapt into the furnace in succession.
Everyone's eyes widened, and Aister, as the Gluttonous Sli Queen, also let out a painful moan.
Finally, when everything had vanished into smoke, Old Barry's voice trembled as he said,
"Ladies and gentlen, please bow in gratitude for the selfless acts of the bravest warriors, who fought on the front lines."
This was the phrase Kael insisted all Knights say to their professional subordinates after any sacrifice made in defense of Lancaster, once he had completely taken control.
The assembled mourners then observed a mont of silence and bowed in thanks to the guardians who had bravely fought until death.
No matter how many would die in battle in the future, nor how many funeral ceremonies would be held, Kael did not want his Knights to omit any part of this ritual respect—
This was not a burdenso command but a genuine respect and gratitude from all Commanders to their comrades-in-arms who had fought beside them.
They had used their lives to save the lives of others in their territory.
Those who ca after would carry on the will of the fallen, taking their determination into the future.
A hush fell over those present, who then gave their final farewell towards the crematorium.
With a wave of his hand and the aid of magic, Kael summoned a large and sturdy monunt from the earth.
Then, another wave, and the Full Battle Hand affixed the personal identification tags taken from the deceased onto the monunt.
The last of the fallen, finally sent into the crematorium, had reached their end.
The Rangers and Wolf Cavalry, numbed from the events, had held out until now, but soone could not hold back tears any longer.
The town residents on the outskirts, too, seed moved by the atmosphere, their eyes reddening slightly.
The leading Knight of Fransburg removed his helt, revealing a face that could scare children at night.
The Fox Knight at his side, quiet while watching the scene unfold, finally inquired of the Fransburg Knight,
"Do you think he will make a suitable Duke in the future?"
"That question shouldn't be asked of , Fox," the lead Knight sighed deeply and said somberly, "All I can tell you is that I have started to admire this Lord of Lancaster."
"Will you regret it? Regret not making the right choice from the beginning?"
"I won't, Fox. I have my mission—I must protect the land I hold dear, even unto death."
Sohow, the rain had stopped.
The dark clouds that had lood over the Great Swamp of Lancaster for days suddenly parted, allowing the warm afternoon sun to pour softly onto the monunt.
The gentle light shone perfectly on the few large characters Kael had engraved there.
The Monunt to the Guardians of Lancaster!
...
That night, the entire resource town burst into lively festivities.
The celebration of victory had begun, and the town was abuzz with activity.
Perhaps to dispel the lancholy of that afternoon's ceremony, the Rangers, Wolf Cavalry, Lionheart Knights, and the professional soldiers from Fransburg partied wildly as if possessed by joy.
Kael excused himself with, "My presence keeps you from celebrating to the fullest," and after clinking glasses with a few people at the start, he quickly left the scene.
...
Moonlight shimred, illuminating the tavern's rooftop where Kael had settled.
"Won't you join them for a few more drinks?"
Perhaps because the skies had cleared, the air felt sowhat oppressive that night, and Flandre, who disliked such heavy drinking, didn't stay long before slipping away unnoticed.
The main reason was her unique status; even if she stayed at the party, without so high-standing ladies to accompany her, it was hard to really get into the spirit.
It wasn't that she couldn't partake, but rely that others beca restrained as soon as they learned she was essentially in charge of Lion Heart Castle and was also the youngest daughter of Duke Lion Heart…
Whatever their previous mood, everyone would beco noticeably awkward.
This might also be why Flandre held her family in such high regard, and why she was reluctant to let her brothers, sisters, and younger relatives fight among themselves to the death.
With a status like hers, there weren't many friends around to chat with freely, and among those who could easily fit into her conversational circle without feeling inherently out of place were a significant number of her own relatives.
While drinking with the Knights down below, before she could fully enjoy the joyful ambiance of the victory celebration, she clearly felt the disguised discomfort in their eyes.
Flandre wasn't upset by this—she just thought the joyous banquet had lost its flavor, which wasn't the first or second ti it had happened; she was used to it.
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