Every step was measured, deliberate, echoing with the weight of history. Somto wasn't just a king, he was the general, the one whose victories had been studied, imitated, and revered across continents.
When the coffin reached the center platform, the generals set it down gently. Then, in one synchronized motion, they saluted.
A command rang out.
"Honor Guard, prepare!"
From the side, a unit of elite soldiers raised their rifles skyward.
"Fire!"
Three rounds of blank shots cracked into the sky, the sound rolling over the graveyard like thunder. Several younger dignitaries flinched; Chidera gripped the edge of his seat, his small hands trembling slightly until Queen Chioma placed a firm hand over his.
Arthur, sitting rigidly in his seat at the front, didn't so much as blink, but his jaw tightened, betraying the storm inside. Carl, on Nnenna's other side, drew in a steadying breath, shoulders squared as if he were carrying his Somto's legacy in that moment.
