Ultragene Warlord

Chapter 698: Another Funeral

With their immediate family lost, the three princes' coffins were carried by their distant relatives.

Paper money fell like snowflakes from the sky.

Behind the princes were an honor guard playing the bugle in a funerary dirge. An oppressive air of solemnity overcame the onlookers.

Zhang Lie had attended such a funeral before; he knew that he was about to experience a rollercoaster of emotions.

As he glanced at the funeral procession, he couldn't help but recall the boy band that the eight princes had once formed. Now, that boy band had dissolved, never to resurface again. Three of the eight princes were resting in those very coffins, and one had been buried who-knew-where.

The eighth prince's body had burst apart as he died, and no piece of him survived intact. All that was left were pieces of mincemeat, and he would only have a cenotaph at best.

On this very street, the seven princes had broken out into song and dance as they carried the second prince's coffin with them. They were all gathered here again, but three princes who had been standing were now lying flat— they who had once carried their brother's coffin were now being carried themselves.

How cruel were the whims of fate!

Zhang Lie's thoughts drifted into errant thoughts of reincarnation and the cyclic nature of life as the funeral procession proceeded slowly onwards.

Paper money floated above the princes' heads, tossed toward them by the onlookers and honor guard. Amidst a flurry of paper money, the four princes began a dirge for the dead. Moving in practiced synchrony, they danced and soared and jumped, the coffin rattling as they moved.

Those relatives from branch families were far less skilled at the ceremony than the princes were—they were nothing more than the princes' accompaniment.

The princes' moves grew wilder and wilder, as though they were breakdancing. Zhang Lie very much wanted to laugh, but he resisted the temptation.

After all, he had known the king of the realm and the dead princes, and it would be far too disrespectful to them to do so. To be frank, Zhang Lie didn't want to attend such a funeral again, but he couldn't help but be drawn to the spectacle.

This performance—no, this funeral—deviated from the last. The last time, the princes only had to lift the second prince's coffin. This time, however, there was one huge gilded coffin and three smaller ones, along with a whole row of coffins to the side.

It was clearly quite difficult for the crown prince and the ninth prince to handle their father's coffin alone. It was designed to be ornamental and was far too large and unwieldy, five times the size of any of the other coffins around. With just two people, it proved extremely burdensome to lift and carry around while dancing, but neither prince balked at the difficulty.

They danced with grace and style, sending the coffin careening through the air and catching it at the very last moment.

If either of the two princes were to make a misstep and send the coffin flying—Zhang Lie couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

The four coffins rolled in the air as the four princes danced. As the remaining citizens of the capital walked on, the crown prince began a song whose dissonance struck Zhang Lie with full force.

"He lay there, as though he were—a fallen leaf, floating in the wind—to his soul we pay our respects, our tears!"

Fortunately, the crown prince was a gifted warrior, and he was able to handle much of the burden of even his father's unwieldy coffin.

The crown and ninth princes sang and danced, keeping the king of the realm's coffin persistently in the air. The thought of the aged king's corpse rolling around in his coffin was too much for Zhang Lie to bear, and he couldn't help but want to laugh again.

In the end, he had no choice but to cover his lips with his hand and clench down tightly. The hardest part about watching the funeral was to avoid laughing—usually, in funerals on Earth, it was precisely the opposite.

The ninth prince took over. "With my mournful voice—I sing out my sorrow, in order that—you can be at ease."

Zhang Lie could never be at ease with such a ceremony.

The third prince stepped forward and continued, "As though you had—dreamt a marvelous dream—never to wake up again—but our love will remain here, here where you spilled blood—in passion and glory!"

The four princes stepped forward together, singing in a chorus, "Please, depart with ease—leave your earthly roots behind!"

The citizens of the capital, their eyes brimming with tears, sang along, "To live is to hurt—there's far too much in life that's unfortunate—! Stand back up, stand back up out of the ruins of our collapse—calm our hearts and breathe in the miracle of life!"

As their voices echoed in the air, the princes continued, "A river of tears we might swallow—but tomorrow will be, it will be, a better day! Strive—strive to persevere, to live without giving up! And when our love and hope face the sun—our tears of yesterday shall evaporate."

The princes, leading the procession, gradually drew closer to the capital. They had clearly conveyed their emotions in their song and dance. All four princes began to cry, touched by the intensity of the moment.

"Do not give up on the morrow—dream your dreams, wish your wishes, fill yourself with strength and courage—let your love and hope shine by the moonlight!"

The crowd in the plaza split into two, leaving room for the princes to maneuver. The princes placed the king of the realm's coffin right in the middle of the plaza, as though they were giving him the seat of honor, and the three princes' coffins by his side.

"Turn back and take a look at your homeland—the future lies in wait, a myriad paths to travel—I opened the window and basked in the welcoming dawn!"

The princes stood around the coffins like a campfire, clapping their hands as they spun, sang, and jumped.

Their voices, rich and deep, carried through the air...

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