Sherlock's Funeral

Sunday's weather was very cooperative, with a timely drizzle starting early in the morning.

Avalon has a warm and humid climate. Although it is winter, it rarely snows.

The rain wasn't heavy; you could stand in it for half an hour and your clothes wouldn't get soaked. But even so, there were still many black umbrellas at the funeral.

Sherlock's achievements are not yet sufficient to warrant a place in St. Genevieve Chapel. Therefore, this is the Hermes Family's private burial ground, located in the Metropolitan District near the Red White Queen District.

Even Iver was unusually dressed in a black suit. He had a thick black cloth with a finely knitted white pattern covering his legs, and he held a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He sat upright and quietly with his head bowed, the upper half of his face obscured by the shadow cast by the black umbrella and the rain.

Lily, who accompanied Iver and held an umbrella for him, wore a minimally decorated black dress. She had her thick, wavy, flaxen hair tied up and hidden under a black wide-brimmed hat.

The priest on the stage was not Bishop Mathers, but an old bishop whom Iver did not recognize.

His hair and beard were fluffy and gray, and he had a lot of hair.

The old bishop, wearing thick glasses, struggled to read the text on the lectern before him, slowly reciting it. It contained Sherlock's life and achievements, as well as pre-written scriptures.

For a pastor Dedication Path to appear so old indicates a very advanced age. It also signifies his long service and high status; he's not someone just anyone can hire.

Logically, the Hermes Family should have invited Bishop Mathers. As Spiritual Councilor, the highest bishop of the Candle Holder Cathedral, and the supreme administrator of the Nine Pillars God Church within Avalon, Bishop Mathers was the highest-ranking clergyman they could invite.

But he clearly declined. That's why it was this old man, who was so senior that he seemed to be walking on shambles, who presided over Sherlock's funeral.

—However, Iver thought that the real reason Bishop Mathers didn't come was probably because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hold back.

If he were to look at Sherlock's "corpse" and burst out laughing, he'd probably be in trouble. So he didn't dare come.

At this moment, the enormous coffin behind the old bishop was open, inside which lay a lifelike "Sherlock," with three pillars standing beside it, their tops quietly burning with white flames. Beside the "corpse" in the coffin was an exquisite little silver box, inlaid with tiny rubies and Grandmother.

The coffin contained neither Sherlock nor some lifelike illusion or Doll commissioned by Mycroft. It was simply a regular wax figure.

After all, Sherlock was caught up in the bombing and died, and the guests present could probably imagine how gruesome his death must have been. Therefore, it was perfectly reasonable for the Hermes Family to cremate Sherlock and then have a wax figure made for the funeral to maintain the deceased's dignity.

However, creating such a lifelike wax figure in just one or two days is something no ordinary wax sculptor could do. Only a conservator from the Path of Twilight could accomplish such a feat. Finding a conservator in Avalon is difficult, but not for the Hermes Family —the only current "minister" of the Hermes Family, Sherlock Holmes 'Mycroft Holmes brother, is a conservator.

Queen Sophia is a reasonable person.

Sir Arthur was framed and lost his ministerial position; his reputation has yet to be fully restored. Yet he was clearly innocent... Therefore, the Queen chose to compensate Arthur with his children, granting them greater privileges. Just as Sherlock was able to embark on the Path of Wisdom, his Mycroft was able to follow the Path of Twilight.

In addition to his work as an arbitrator, Mycroft also studied the art of preservation on the Path of Twilight.

Preservation is a broad and mysterious art. It is more of a concept than a technique.

Preservation techniques are used for creating wax figures, models, and specimens, as well as for preserving corpses and food for extended periods, and for storing easily damaged items such as contracts, evidence, wills, agreements, documents, and paintings. They even include techniques for quickly stopping bleeding from wounds or for helping people near death to stay alive.

The ability to "ensure the situation does not deteriorate further" is the broad knowledge a preservative must possess.

The wax figure that now stands in place of Sherlock Holmes's body was made by Mycroft himself.

It is said that he was so shocked when he saw Sherlock's body that it left a deep impression on his mind.

Therefore, it is not necessary to directly reference the person; a wax figure can be created to replace the corpse at the funeral based solely on the remaining memories in the mind.

If the guests stood a little further away, they wouldn't even be able to tell whether the person in the coffin was actually the deceased—the state of a corpse is very different from that of a living person. Moreover, this was a version with closed eyes and a pale face.

"... At this point, his spirit will be consumed by the fire, and his soul will return to the candle keeper. He will drink the candle keeper's blood, and the candle keeper will bear his sins for him."

The old bishop's eulogy was nearing its end. He read in a trembling, unsteady voice. "We beseech the God of the Sacred Number three, the God of Thorns Binding the Body, the God of Burning Body Chasing Darkness — the Candle Holder's Buck, please protect his spirit. Just as you protect the smallest candle in this world, and watch over the faintest flame."

After saying that, he reached out and slowly tapped his crown three times.

The old bishop murmured, "May the candles burn eternally at his grave."

"May his candle burn forever."

All the guests present bowed their heads, chanted in unison, and tapped their chests three times.

This concludes the main procedures of the funeral.

Afterwards, someone will close the coffin and bury it in the ground. Then, a pastor will bless the land, and those who brought flowers can come and offer them. Those who only came to observe the funeral can now leave and are free to walk around and chat.

Under the black umbrella, Iver noticed that Sherlock's mother, not far away, finally broke down in tears. His mother, too, was in a wheelchair. Unlike Iver, she looked haggard and her face was gaunt. A middle-aged man with short, neat black hair and black-rimmed glasses was quietly comforting her.

"Once this is over, you'd better get your mom to give you a good beating to vent your anger," Iver thought to himself.

"Leave the flowers to me."

Just then, a steady voice came. "You're not in good health either, Mr. Iver."

Iver looked up, the black umbrella above him tilting slightly backward. Then, a wide, fleshy hand, like a seal's paw, reached out from under the umbrella and gently took the bouquet of flowers he was holding.

"Mr. Mycroft."

Iver nodded slightly in greeting to the newcomer.

This man was none other than Sherlock's most trusted relative, his elder brother Mycroft Holmes.

Iver estimated Sherlock's height to be around 1.83 meters, only half an inch taller than himself. However, Mycroft was close to 1.9 meters tall, not much shorter than Edward.

Mycroft was not only taller than Sherlock, but also much more robust. This sole remaining minister of the Hermes Family was not merely large-bellied, but visibly obese, with an even wider face. Even his umbrella was larger than everyone else's.

Nevertheless, the obese Mr. Mycroft did not look ugly.

Iver could clearly see the resemblance to Sherlock in his face—even with his face so full of fat, the deep features were still discernible. Mycroft had the same black hair and wolf-like amber eyes. His eyes were bright and piercing, as if he were often deep in thought.

He looked fat, but his body wasn't bulky. His quiet gait gave the impression of lightness and precision; the fact that he could hold such a huge umbrella in one hand without it moving demonstrated his balanced and stable strength.

"I've heard Sherlock mention you before."

Mycroft, holding the bouquet in his other hand, looked at Iver with a meaningful gaze. "He trusts you a lot."

"I am also proud and honored to have such a friend."

"He was a wise and upright man," Iver said softly, a faint sadness on his face. "Loyal to the kingdom, loyal to the Queen... but I never imagined that his wisdom would ultimately lead to my downfall."

"I don't see it that way, Mr. Iver. I believe that wisdom is never wrong."

Mycroft said calmly, "Sherlock, as the victim, is completely innocent and without fault—the fault clearly lies with those despicable bandits."

Although he knew Sherlock had faked his death, Mycroft didn't feign grief. He appeared calm, as if it weren't his brother's funeral, but that of a complete stranger.

Given Sherlock's high regard for him, Mycroft shouldn't have been unaware of such a thing. So it must be something else entirely— Mycroft is always like this, out of step with everyone else.

"I'm more inclined to believe this is a despicable act of revenge than a cover-up," Iver said.

"What do you think it should come from?" Mycroft countered.

"The Sweater Brotherhood".

Iver lowered his head and said softly, "To be precise, it's the Alchemy Bomb Smuggling Case that led to this incident. Sherlock, who was investigating the bomb, was killed by it... I think this is a high-profile provocation. In this respect, perhaps this is just the beginning."

"—Yes, that's not impossible."

Just then, a steady voice rang out from beside them.

Iver looked up, and Lily held the umbrella up even higher so he could see who it was.

The man appeared to be at least fifty years old, with noticeable wrinkles and nasolabial folds on his face. Even so, his hair was not yet gray. His blond hair was oiled and neatly combed back into a slicked-back style, remaining perfectly styled even in the rain. His pupils were not the amber-colored brown, but rather a pale blue close to light gray.

He wasn't carrying an umbrella and looked so sad he seemed somewhat haggard. Although he was dressed in black, Iver still recognized him... it was the lawyer in the white suit he had seen at the awards ceremony.

— York Holmes, legal counsel for Lloyd's of Lloyd's!

"... Uncle York."

Mycroft glanced at Iver first, then casually turned and gave York a deep hug.

York also looked grief-stricken, hugging Mycroft tightly, whom he couldn't even wrap his arms around, and patting him hard on the back. "My condolences, child."

"Sherlock was a good boy. It's such a shame he died like that."

Lawyer York sighed softly, "I still want him to Lloyd's's. If he can get into Lloyd's's, then someone can protect him... those people will never dare to lay a hand on him."

In that instant, Lily suddenly looked up slightly.

She caught a whiff of murderous intent emanating from Mycroft. But that aura vanished in an instant, as if it were merely an illusion.

The fat man still appeared to be gentle, kind, and benevolent.

"Lloyd's's?"

Just then, Iver spoke up with perfect timing, "That's not Lloyd District's..."

"--It's just an insurance organization in Lloyd District. We're not a company; we merely provide a place for conversation. We're a purely private commercial organization."

Following up on Iver's words, York Holmes forward and spoke.

Iver looked puzzled. "But I've heard that Lloyd's's is an organization that provides loan sharking..."

"It's not usury. Our loan interest rates are entirely within the limits set by the Kingdom's laws."

Lawyer York, replied.

As he spoke, he handed Iver an ornate business card made of gold paper. "While you may have heard some rumors, I want to say that none of them are true. They are merely rumors spread by the jealous... I am York Holmes Lloyd's, Sherlock's uncle. We met last week—I am Gordon's friend, sitting right next to him. The one to your right... Do you remember me?"

"I remember, Mr. York. I've also heard Sherlock mention you."

Upon hearing this, Iver suddenly understood, and his eyes showed more friendliness and trust.

"What did he say?" York paused, then asked.

Iver's gaze was pure and earnest, without a trace of ulterior motive. "He said you are a kind person who is good to others and makes many friends."

"Sigh... Thank you for his assessment. It's truly a pity; Sherlock is also a very talented young man..."

Lawyer York, sighed. He genuinely felt sorry for him.

He glanced at Mycroft beside him, then hesitated, as if he had something to say but it wasn't appropriate to speak at the funeral.

Iver feigned realization and nodded to Mycroft: "Let's talk again later, Mycroft. Please give my condolences to Sherlock."

"I have something I'd like to discuss with Mr. York. I still feel that something is amiss with Sherlock's attack."

"Yes, Sherlock left some words for Mr. Iver before he died. It's not very convenient here," Lawyer York nodded, warmly greeting Iver. "Aren't you very interested in Lloyd's? —Perfect! Then I'll take you there. Let's talk at Lloyd's's headquarters."

After reading some of the chapter comments and changing my perspective, I realized that taking leave during a dungeon run is indeed not a good idea; it can drive someone crazy with anxiety.

But I'm also a little worried that my body won't be able to handle it... This summer is too hot and humid. I feel like I can't breathe even when I'm in an air-conditioned room every day.

But since he had just taken one day off, it wouldn't be right to take another day off, so the cat came up with a solution: take two half-days off!

I'm forcibly accelerating my sleep-wake cycle! I stayed up until 5:30 PM yesterday, but woke up at 1:30 AM this morning. If I stay up until 7 or 8 PM tonight, my sleep schedule should be back to normal by tomorrow morning!

This is called the yin turning into yang!

I'll only be posting one update today, just over 4,000 words. But at least there's some update to read! I might post another one tomorrow, and I should be able to resume regular updates the day after tomorrow.

Also, Guanguan organized an event in the book review section, let's promote it a bit~