Murphy had once thought death was a solemn, tragic thing. But after hearing Nefertari chatter on and on to Count Sikomar and his wife about the perks and benefits of becoming an ancient king, the vampire lord suddenly realized that, on this continent, death might just be another stage of life.
Just listen to the activities that brain-dead mummified priestess listed for the dead's social gatherings.
There was a food-tasting event featuring delicacies from the Underworld Plane, and a chariot race organized along the Road of the Dead by tomb kings who loved speeding around. Most outrageous of all, Nefertari had sworn that there was an annual "Beauty Pageant of the Dead."
Apparently, around the time of the Cold Moon Festival each year, every king of the Underworld chose several of the most beautiful zombie brides from their domain and sent them to the Road of the Dead. The kings would then judge the loveliest zombie bride together and award her the honorary title of "Flower of the Underworld."
Nefertari was so enthusiastic about the whole affair because her grandmother had once won that very honor.
Well, well!
So it really was a family tradition, huh?
Her grandmother was a ravishing zombie bride, and she was a mummified priestess, right? If she hadn't been so flat-chested, would she have followed the same career path as her grandmother?
"Something about this feels off."
Half an hour later, Murphy left Sikomar City with a strange, reality-shaken expression. He turned to Triss, who wore the same blank look, and said:
"What's going on with the Sanghai Empire's traditions surrounding death? It sounds incredibly grand, but when you look closer, those people have completely upended my idea of what the world of the dead is like. Is that normal?"
Triss stared blankly back without