I firmly believe he is a true patriot.
I hold deep admiration for him.
I wish I could have learned more about him while he was alive. He was always full of perseverance and determination, which was astonishing.
Before and after the funeral, different people said similar words to Mardias. Mardias responded only with gratitude and nods. He noted who greeted him first, who deliberately avoided speaking to him, and the expressions they wore; all of this would serve as evidence to judge friends or foes in the future. He knew the other party was doing the same.
The council decided to bury Panthonia in the center of an old national cemetery. Around him were nobles and officers of roughly the same era, but not well-known, and avoiding those who had tense relations with MI7 during their lifetime. A gravestone only included his name and the years of his birth and death, with no epitaph. Dense clouds in the sky cast shadows over a funeral destined to be tearless.
Among those present, only four were from MI7: Mardias, Tony Romani, and two elderly instructors from the agent training school. Recently, MI7 had been under council supervision, with daily work limited to maintaining public order and investigating crimes through legitimate channels, supposedly to gradually return to normal after Jorgen's trial. Mardias had to submit many case files for council review, and all members of MI7 had to be ready for questioning to clear any suspicions of actions detrimental to the nation. The council apparently gave Mardias some preparation time, allowing him to destroy or hide documents like the Undertaker's Plan—or so he understood it. No one told him the next steps. No one told him how to judge the situation. While organizing the documents, he felt angry and uncomfortable, thinking he was destroying important relics he should preserve; but he quickly realized it was something he had to do due to the current situation of MI7, as a leader's duty.
The rest of the guests were mainly nobles, officials, and council representatives, the highest-ranking being Hamilton, the head of the investigation team. No church members were present, which was not surprising considering this was an atheist's funeral. Although the event was not made public, guards temporarily sealed off the cemetery to ensure no uninvited guests, especially civilians, disturbed the funeral. Ultimately, only twenty-five people witnessed Panthonia's coffin, marking his life's final and most honest moment.
Mardias's eulogy was brief, less than two hundred words. He used formal language to recount his grandfather's achievements as the leader of MI7 and emphasized his intention to carry on his work. He knew everyone present was using this moment to judge him. Four years ago, when he returned to Stormwind, the awe in observers' eyes seemed more significant than now. It was not because his qualities as an heir had diminished, but because the nature of things had changed. This was not the scenario he imagined when taking over the reins from his grandfather. He had hoped his grandfather would publicly announce the transfer of power while alive and then retire, allowing him to maintain the reputation of MI7 smoothly, with no one daring to oppose the transition. It was merely a hope, and his grandfather never promised to do so, but Mardias always believed it was possible. In reality, his grandfather made no clear statement about the transfer of power since he fell seriously ill.
When he revealed the Undertaker's Plan entirely to Jorgen, I should have realized it. He wanted me to compete with Jorgen.
This thought recently emerged in Mardias's mind. Such a reasonable, straightforward answer. Mardias felt like a sailor hiding in the lower cabin, believing there would be no storms, until he first stepped onto the deck and saw the low-hanging clouds. Looking back, in his dying illusions, his grandfather only referred to his biological father as his heir. Since returning to Stormwind, he had four years to prove he could control everything in MI7, but he failed. For four whole years, he was almost still Jorgen's apprentice.
He once had a final chance. On the day his grandfather died, Jorgen was far away in Stromgarde, unable to exert any influence. If he had immediately announced the death, taken over MI7, and deliberately accelerated the spread of the news, Galin would not have easily let Jorgen leave safely. MI7 would become a target for Stromgarde and Ravenholt for a while, but his leadership position would be solidified.
Isn't this how MI7 operates?
As he watched the coffin slowly lower into the pit, Mardias thought of another possibility. MI7 always anticipated the worst rather than the best-case scenario; his grandfather wouldn't optimistically view his remaining days. Perhaps sending Jorgen away before his death was a hint—this is your chance, Mardias. Jorgen had too much power; you couldn't confront him directly, so the day I die, he won't be here. You have all the time and conditions to secure your position...
The coffin hit the bottom. The sound of dirt falling from the pit's walls. At that moment, Mardias ceased all imaginings of past possibilities. Only the outcome mattered.
The outcome was that he had voluntarily notified Jorgen. Regardless of the reason, he destroyed his last chance.
Now, with Jorgen in prison, no one competes with Mardias, nor can anyone offer advice. He is now the true sole heir of MI7, responsible for maintaining its stability. He should think as his grandfather would in this situation.
His grandfather would no longer consider Jorgen, who is destined never to return to MI7.
Mardias pondered these matters until the uppermost layer of soil covered the grave.
After the funeral ended and the crowd dispersed, Hamilton approached him, requesting a private conversation.
"Forgive me for being blunt," Hamilton said. "Your eulogy was somewhat inappropriate. Some messages may not be universally agreed upon."
"What do you mean?"
"You said you would inherit his legacy and stabilize MI7's work. This is not the council's stance. Or rather, these matters are still under discussion."
"I've already said that Jorgen should bear the primary responsibility for the chaos. MI7's internal operations are sound; your investigation results should also indicate this."
"I remain skeptical, and as the council's investigation team representative, this is not just my personal stance. The key issue is that MI7's system tolerated a scheme that could be said to target the entire nation. Mr. Mardias, I must remind you that those deceived included the king. Deceiving the king, even for the right reasons, is still considered a high crime of treason by many. Moreover, behind this deception, is there really a just reason considering national interests? It's hard to say there is."
"Why not just tell me your decision."
"The conditions necessary for a decision are not yet met. Although it's inappropriate to discuss this on such a special day, I must remind you that a comprehensive restructuring of MI7, or even its dissolution, is a possible outcome. So until the situation is clear, please refrain from making statements like today in public."
"I understand. It won't happen again."
"Thank you for your understanding. Additionally, I'd like to say a few words from a personal perspective. Over forty years ago, I read in the newspapers about Mr. Panthonia dealing with the most brutal thug in Stormwind at the time, Salvaney. It made me very happy because it made me believe there was still justice in the world, giving me more confidence in studying law. Now, I would say that was a naive thought process, but I still acknowledge that your grandfather indeed made significant contributions to this country, which no one can deny."
"Thank you."
After Hamilton left, Mardias suddenly felt embarrassed. Embarrassment usually occurred when facing crowds, but now it tightly gripped him without drawing any attention. He felt he was a step behind again. Mistake after mistake. Based on his education, he had been waiting for the leadership position of MI7. After nearly losing it due to his mistakes, the most important issue now was not how to stabilize MI7 but how to preserve it.
What to do?
Jorgen never taught this.
Nor did his grandfather.
He looked back at the distant gravestone, trying to expel a thought from his mind:
Panthonia Shawl is MI7.
His funeral is also MI7's death sentence.
In the following days, neither the council nor the church made any significant moves. Mardias believed the consensus Hamilton mentioned at the funeral referred to the joint opinion of these two parties. He had to understand the situation during the brief calm after the funeral, but there were not many useful people around him, or rather, people capable of gathering intelligence while escaping the council's supervision.
One was Tony. In Mardias's eyes, Tony was the only one in MI7 whose work fanaticism exceeded Jorgen's, particularly in his indiscriminate approach to tasks, never arguing. Even if asked to clear debris for a month, he would certainly do it. Mardias ordered him to pose as a civilian and infiltrate the Real Prayer Society, directly using the information he obtained or creating some illusions one by one, emphasizing MI7's importance to public order during post-disaster reconstruction. This might confuse the primary functions with the Security Bureau, but the point was to make the council believe MI7 cared for the people.
The other was Elin. He stayed in MI7 purely because he wanted to help Jorgen, something Mardias had long accepted and didn't consider punishing him for that punch. Elin had already contacted Bossia and had some connections in the cathedral, collecting information of interest to him, which happened to be what Mardias needed: the progress of the archbishop's election and the church's attitude towards MI7. The most important news he brought was that Hylan was likely to meet Jorgen. This was a difficult decision to understand. Perhaps Hylan, like the previous fasting and square speeches, used unexpected actions to further expand his influence. However, the direct result of this would inevitably delay the council's trial of Jorgen, and Mardias couldn't see how this would benefit his campaign.
There were many problems, which Mardias knew was a good thing. Keeping his mind and body busy with current affairs would prevent him from repeatedly considering the unsettling issues from the funeral.
One morning, an assistant entered his office.
"Lord Mardias, there is a visitor to see you."
"Except for the council, I won't see anyone before 3 PM."
"But...this guest claims to be Jorach Ravenholt from Ravenholt Manor."