Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended [Part Two]

CHAPTER 247: The Memorial Ceremony

"A Dungeon Break—violent and sudden," Cassius said grimly. "The monsters poured forth from the abyss with no warning, no mercy. Hundreds of innocent lives were lost—mothers, fathers, children who had come to receive only the thanks they were long denied."

His voice grew heavy with remorse. "We—myself included—were blind. For our recklessness. For our shortsightedness. We take full responsibility."

Murmurs passed through the courtyard, some grief-stricken, others angry.

"The soldiers who were charged with guarding that dungeon... those who failed in their sacred duty... they will be punished. Severely. Their negligence will not go unanswered."

There was a grim nodding among the crowd. Justice, at least, would be served.

Cassius then lifted his hand and beckoned behind him. From the ballroom, a young figure stepped forward—Prince Reneal, clad in dark navy and silver, his head held high.

The prince approached the balcony rail, his gaze holding the same confidence and conviction he found on the battlefield... and through painful sacrifice.

"But even amidst the darkness and chaos," Cassius said, his voice warming, "there was the light of hope."

He turned to Reneal, his expression one of fatherly pride. "Prince Reneal. This brave soul. It was he who rallied and empowered the soldiers, who led them into the jaws of death without hesitation. It was by his hand—and his will—that the tide was turned."

Gasps and murmurs rose among the commoners. Some placed hands to their hearts. Others bowed their heads deeply, whispering blessings under their breath.

"He stood where others fled. He fought when others faltered. He protected you all. You owe him your lives," the man said simply. "And I owe him mine."

"I did only what was necessary," Reneal said humbly. "And I grieve alongside you all."

Applause broke out, hesitant at first, then growing stronger. Tears gleamed in some eyes; others lifted their arms in praise.

Cassius laid a hand gently on the prince's shoulder and turned back to the people. "Tonight, we honor the fallen not with endless weeping, but with life. With remembrance. Celebrate them. Speak their names. Cherish those still among you."

He smiled—a soft, bittersweet smile. "Eat. Drink. Laugh. Love. For that is what they would have wanted."

The man bowed low, and the courtyard answered with a wave of reverent cheers. Then he turned slightly and spoke just enough so that only the prince could hear.

"Beautifully done, Your Highness," he said softly, his smile pleasant, unreadable. "Your growth has been truly remarkable. Your father will be overjoyed when he awakens."

As the echoes of Cassius's speech faded into the night, the dignitaries inside the ballroom began to disperse, forming into their little cliques. Laughter and the clinking of crystal flutes soon filled the hall, the pretense of mourning slipping away like a discarded cloak.

Lord Vaerythos callously snatched a flute of wine from a passing server's tray. He took a long sip, then sneered in open disappointment as he brushed past the royal bastard, not even bothering to mask his contempt.

Stynx's hands curled into fists at his sides, but he forced himself to smile stiffly, bowing his head in feigned humility. As soon as Vaerythos turned his back, his smile vanished, replaced by a venomous sneer at the man who had been like a beloved father to him.

His gaze then shifted, dark and seething, to his brother who had evidently gone through a miraculous metamorphosis. It should have been him standing in the spotlight. Him basking in the people's adoration and hailed as the savior who had shielded the city and slain the Dungeon Boss in a glorious and epic display of might and valor.