The sun shone brightly over the Free World, its light rays cutting through the somber air as the people gathered in the central plaza. A sea of black attire painted the crowd, reflecting the grief that hung over the entire city. It was a day of honor, a day to commemorate the sacrifice of Shenlog, the Dragon General, whose life was given to protect them all. The funeral ground was adorned with flags bearing Shenlog's dragon insignia, and his towering legacy loomed in the silence of the mourners.
At the heart of the crowd, Seiji, Jin, Madagascar, and other key figures stood solemnly, their faces grim with respect and sorrow. The casket, carved from the finest ebony and lined with golden engravings depicting Shenlog's great battles, was carried by undertakers who moved with deliberate reverence. A somber melody played softly in the background, carried by a single flute, its mournful tune piercing the heavy silence.
Amid the crowd, Jingwei stood trembling, tears streaming down his face as he watched his father's casket move toward the burial ground. His cries grew louder, uncontrolled sobs echoing through the quiet.
Jin stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Jingwei's shoulder. "Lessen the noise," he said, his tone cold but steady. "What's done is done. I give you my word—this will not happen again."
Jingwei nodded, wiping his face as his body trembled with suppressed grief. The procession moved forward, Shenlog's casket placed on a marble pedestal overlooking the memorial grounds where the greatest heroes of the Free World rested.
Far from the funeral, deep in the wilderness, Drake raced through the landscape. His mind swirled with confusion and unease after the visions and fiery transformation he had experienced in the cave. He leapt over rivers and sprinted through forests, his determination unyielding.
"Something's wrong," he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with frustration. "What were those visions? Why now? What's happening to me?"
Hours passed as he traveled, his pace relentless. When he finally reached the gates of the Free World, his breath caught in his throat. The aftermath of a great battle was evident—crumbled walls, scorched earth, and the haunting scent of ash lingering in the air. His heart pounded as his worst fears began to form.
Drake sprinted through the gates, pushing past the debris and the bustling crowd. "What happened here?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. His mind raced as he searched for answers, his feet leading him toward the gathering at the funeral grounds.
When he reached the crowd, he froze. The sight before him was incomprehensible. A massive gathering of people, all dressed in black, stood in solemn silence as they paid respects to Shenlog's casket. His heart dropped, and his words failed him.
"It's the bastard son!" a voice hissed from the crowd, breaking the silence. "He's here."
Drake winced at the insult, his fists clenching. From within the crowd, Jingwei turned sharply, his eyes blazing with anger. "Anyone who calls my brother a bastard will answer to me!" he shouted, his voice silencing the murmurs.
Drake and Jingwei locked eyes. For a moment, the grief between them dissolved as Jingwei's expression softened. He walked toward Drake, a faint smile forming on his lips. "You finally showed up," Jingwei said, pulling Drake into a brotherly embrace. "But look at you—what a mess. Let's fix that."
Jingwei led Drake away to a nearby dressing room. As Drake grumbled about the rough treatment, Jingwei handed him a black suit. "Put this on. You're part of this family, and today, you'll look the part."
Drake frowned, holding the suit awkwardly. "This doesn't suit me," he muttered, tugging at the stiff fabric after putting it on.
Jingwei knocked him lightly on the head. "Stop whining. You're presentable now. You've got questions, but they'll have to wait. Let's get through the funeral first."
Drake sighed but followed his brother back to the crowd, his thoughts racing as he processed the events unfolding before him.
Jin stood tall and silent as the funeral rites continued, his gaze fixed on Shenlog's casket. He clenched his fists, his mind clouded with anger and regret.
"King Festus," he muttered under his breath. "Father, none of this would have happened if you had ended Jiangshi and his council when you had the chance." His feet dug into the ground as he fought to suppress his emotions, his jaw tightening.
The priest stepped forward, his voice calm but filled with reverence. "Shenlog, the great Dragon General, has given his life for the Free World. His sacrifice will not be forgotten. May we carry forward his legacy and honor his memory by protecting the freedom he fought for."
As the priest continued, a faint hum filled the air. A compass began to materialize above the funeral grounds, spinning and ringing as it floated.
TING-TING-TING-TING-TING
The crowd gasped as they stepped back, their eyes fixed on the eerie sight.
From the compass, a dark energy erupted, splitting the sky in two. A thunderous crack echoed through the air.
CRACK!
Lightning struck the ground with deafening force, sending a wave of energy through the crowd.
BOOM!
From the light and smoke, two figures emerged. Jiangshi stood tall and composed, his piercing gaze surveying the gathering. Beside him, Lei Gong descended with an aura of unrelenting power, his body crackling with electricity.
Jiangshi's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You honor the dead, yet fail to protect the living. Tell me—what good is this sacrifice?"
A collective shiver ran through the crowd as the sky darkened further, the Free World now under an ominous shadow.