On a hillside in Blackwater City, there was a clearing, surrounded by shady trees. This was the Wilson clan's cemetery, where successive generations of the Wilson clan were buried.
Duke Wilson watched as Merlin approach the ancient burial mounds, saying softly, "Ancestor, this is where we buried our predecessors."
Merlin waved his hand, following which Duke Wilson deferentially took his leave, and Merlin was left alone.
As he stared at the names on the gravestones, Merlin's thoughts returned to the Blackwater City of the past. At that time, his father Old Wilson was still a dignified baron but now, Old Wilson had been lying under this mound for who-knew-how-many years.
"Father."
Merlin stroked the rough headstone. The cold sensation seemed to penetrate his heart. He had gotten used to death long ago, even witnessing the rise and fall of so many civilizations. Nonetheless, at this moment, standing before the grave, he was merely Old Wilson's son.