A Funeral

June 11, 1928, early morning

The Coreys' funeral was held in a hurry.

Wilbur brought Hope to the cemetery. They stopped on the hillside beside it, where a tree shaded them as they watched the people below, all dressed in black.

Though Wilbur said Mr. Corey still couldn't really be considered a resident of Dunwich, many of the town's residents had come.

Paul had already returned from school. Together with red-haired Colin and several others, he carried a huge black box.

"Is that a coffin?" Hope asked.

"Yes. They only used one."

"What's inside?"

"Nothing. It's empty," Wilbur replied.

"But they're still going to bury it."

"It's just symbolic. Honestly, this whole process is so dull."

In the past, Hope would have argued that it was a way of honoring the dead. Now he only wanted to watch the ceremony in silence.

This country had no legal religion, so a government official took on the role of priest and read a eulogy that had been prepared in advance.

Then he took off his hat and bowed his head. The others followed suit, and the funeral, which had been somewhat chaotic moments earlier, fell completely silent. Not a sound could be heard.

Hope had no hat, but he bowed his head along with the others. Even Wilbur fell silent.

It was quiet enough to hear the leaves fall.

In the silence, someone noticed the two beneath the tree. A tall, thin old gentleman leaning on a cane made his way up the hill with faltering steps. A young man followed close beside him, ready to support him at any moment.

When the old gentleman drew nearer, Hope noticed that in addition to the black mourning band he wore for the funeral, he also had a red armband.

"Sawyer Walter. Just call him Mr. Sawyer," Wilbur explained. "A quarter of Dunwich's farmland belongs to his family, and quite a few residents work for him. That armband is the badge of the agricultural chairman. The government gave him a position more or less equivalent to mayor."

After a pause, Wilbur continued, "He doesn't like us. He's probably coming to drive us away."

Wilbur was right. Before the well-dressed old gentleman had even come close enough for Hope to make out his face, he began driving them away.

"You little Whateley brats! Why aren't you studying black magic with Old Whateley? What are you doing here?"

The young man behind him nervously tried to call him back, but in the end, he didn't dare. He seemed to consider stepping in front of the old gentleman, but after looking at Wilbur, who was over two meters tall, he thought better of it.

"Do you still want to watch?" Wilbur asked Hope, ignoring the old gentleman.

"Can you make him stop insulting us?"

"That'd be a hassle. Getting into a confrontation with him here would be bad for you, me, and Paul."

Then let's go, Hope thought.

He was just about to say it when he saw a spot of bright red hurrying up from the foot of the slope. It stood out against all the solemn black around them.

It was red-haired Colin. He ran over, bringing Paul's message with him. "Paul says they can watch from there. Mr. Sawyer, stop giving them a hard time!"

Mr. Sawyer frowned. Usually, he had almost absolute authority in Dunwich, but this was the Coreys' funeral. If Paul allowed them to stay, he really couldn't say much.

The old gentleman snorted and headed back down the hill with the young man.

Red-haired Colin didn't follow him. He took a few more steps, looked at Wilbur, then turned to Hope. "Hope, I wanted to stand with you for a while and have a chat, but it looks like there isn't much room in your shade."

After saying this, Colin looked at Wilbur again.

Hope understood what he meant. He wanted Wilbur to leave them alone for a while, but Wilbur acted as though he hadn't heard a word Colin said and gave him no response.

Colin shook his head. "I really don't like you, Wilbur. Goodbye, Hope. Paul might still need my help."

"Goodbye," Hope replied.

"Now it's time for the relatives to speak," Wilbur said, explaining to Hope. "The man standing beside the grave is Paul. He clearly doesn't know what to say."

"The people who came to the funeral will understand."

"Let's hope so. But they might also think he isn't showing enough filial devotion."

Paul soon finished saying what he wanted to say. Then the old gentleman who had just tried to drive them away—Mr. Sawyer—stepped forward.

"Is he going to speak too?" Hope asked.

"Of course. Aside from Paul, he's the person who most ought to speak. He's the agricultural chairman. Dunwich doesn't have a mayor, so he's the most important person here."

Hope couldn't hear a thing from where they were.

Wilbur suddenly said, "Do you remember those stubborn old fools who refused to recognize Mr. Corey as a resident of Dunwich?"

"Why bring that up all of a sudden?"

"People like Mr. Sawyer are the stubborn old fools I meant. He can be generous and helpful about some things, but completely tactless about others. Grandfather always said he'd cause trouble one day."

"What do you mean?"

The crowd below suddenly broke into an uproar. Hope heard a woman scream. It sounded like Annie.

The crowd fell into disarray, but it seemed to close in around two people. One was Mr. Sawyer; the other had golden hair and was probably Paul.

The two faced off, neither willing to back down. After a while, Colin pushed through the crowd, his red hair bobbing as he tried to say something to Paul, his movements frantic.

"Mr. Sawyer probably said something wrong," Wilbur said. "These people are so ridiculous. They even brought shotguns to a funeral. Paul's pointing one at Mr. Sawyer."

"A shotgun?"

Wilbur grabbed Hope by the shoulder to stop him from running down the hill.

"If anything really happens, it'll be too late for you to get down there now."

"What's Paul going to do?"

"Probably just trying to scare Mr. Sawyer into taking back what he said. But Mr. Sawyer's used to being above everyone else. He might refuse to back down, and then we'll have trouble."

Wilbur was right. The crowd grew even more chaotic as several people gathered around Mr. Sawyer, talking to him over and over.

"Let go of me. I can't let Paul—"

"I told you, it's too late to go now," Wilbur said.

He suddenly uttered a strange syllable, then a second one.

Hope stared at him in shock. Wilbur had cast a spell so suddenly that Hope hadn't had time to stop him.

Mana: 3.01

Mana: 2.99

An even greater commotion broke out among the mourners. Screams rose one after another as a crowd of people began running about in confusion.

No shot rang out. It was Paul, his golden hair gleaming, who fell to the ground.

"What did you do?" Hope roared at Wilbur.

"Relax. I just put him to sleep for a while," Wilbur said. "Look, I saved Mr. Sawyer's life... and, more accurately, Paul's too. I saved two lives. That's compensation for you."