As you walk deeper into Cumberland past the outer graves, the environment becomes increasingly dark and gloomy.
At the far end of the cemetery, there is a small space of no more than ten square meters, where small flowers grow on the ground and ivy grows lushly.
An elderly man with white hair and beard, his back to the old knight, knelt before the tombstone, his hands clasped together in silent prayer.
Cumberland looked at the tombstone; there were no words on it, not even any patterns or emblems.
"Have you arrived?" The kneeling old man opened his eyes and turned his head.
Cumberland looked at his friend, who seemed to have aged ten years, bent down, placed a bouquet of flowers he had prepared in front of the tombstone, and gently asked, "When did this happen?"
"After the Queen left, Guy VI numbed himself with alcohol and revelry. Earlier this year, he suddenly collapsed at a banquet and remained unconscious for a whole day after being taken back to the palace. The first thing he did upon waking was to ask his servants to carry him to the Queen's gallery, where he eventually died."
Cumberland sighed almost imperceptibly, looked at the tombstone, and asked again, "Why was the Silver Ring King buried here? There's not even an inscription?"
"For the Silver Ring Kingdom now, a living king is more valuable than a dead one. All those who knew about this have been dealt with."
Cumberland nodded, paused for a moment, and said to his old friend, "Emerson, although we've already communicated in the letter, I still want to ask again, are you sure?"
Upon hearing this, the old man touched the tombstone, his voice like that of a desert ravaged by sandstorms for millennia: "I've made up my mind. All things rise and fall. Let this kingdom... crumble..."
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