This is what the olive brown man stated, clad in black clothes of mourning as he declared this aloud to the assembled crowd in a plaza by the Golden Willow. He spoke heavily, like the weight of the world and all of its conflicts weighed down upon him. The Burgrave continued on, his voice blaring across the din of the crowd.

"May he forever more be remembered as the man who, in his final hours, lead the charge of hope against a hopeless foe. Who sacrificed himself so that more of our loyal troops may yet live."

"Those that stood either with him or against him cannot deny that whatever, if any, faults he possessed, he was a man of the Empire. Everything he did was what he himself felt was for the good of our most holy and beloved nation. His agenda was unlike that of some members of the peerage, who wished to overthrow the Undercrown so that they themselves could claim it. He breathed for this Empire, bled for it, and as it grieves me to say it, died for this Empire.

"We must not- no, we /cannot/ stand fragmented anymore. We now know the Altar stand firmly against us and decimated an army of thousands in a mere day. We must now unite against our foes in Daendroc, or face the consequences of a resurgent Altalar Empire. We cannot allow the former Undercrowns death, nor any of our soldiers deaths to be in vain. To do such is nothing short of an affront to our Empire, our people, and our most holy Imperial Spirit. I pray that we will be able to lock arms together once more against a common enemy, whether we be a Ravenstad, Allar, Coen, or Regalisch and defeat this Altalar menace."

With that, the speaker concluded, covering his face with the hand not gripping the speech paper, shaking his head as he got off the platform from where he spoke. He glanced to the now dispersing crowd, whispering to himself quietly.

"Not you, Charles. Nor you, Johann. I will make sure your deaths are not for nothing. I swear it."