The Last Ritual

[Intro - Distant bells. Heavy rain. A single, crushing guitar chord held for eternity.]
[Ancient, grief-stricken whisper]
The hunt is over, child.
Lay down your blade. Rest now.

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[Verse 1 - Devastatingly slow]
We lay your body in the earth from which all life is born
The same earth that you walked upon from dusk to weary morn
We plant a seed where your heart rests, where your chest rose and fell
A sapling for the forest, for the stories you would tell
Your hands that gripped the greatsword now are folded, cold, and still
Your eyes that tracked the monster's path have seen their final kill
The armor that protected you is polished one last time
Then placed upon your resting form—your final paradigm

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[Pre-Chorus - Ethereal choir]
Earth receive! Stone embrace!
Hunter rest! In this sacred place

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[Chorus - Crushing doom metal]
THE LAST RITUAL! WE SING YOU TO THE GROUND!
THE LAST RITUAL! THE FINAL SONG, THE FINAL SOUND!
THE LAST RITUAL! YOUR HUNTING DAYS ARE DONE!
THE LAST RITUAL! YOUR LEGACY'S BEGUN!

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[Verse 2 - Building grief]
Your kin have gathered from the hills, from villages and halls
They stand in silence, heads bowed low against these ancient walls
Your weapon rests upon your chest—the one you loved the most
The Wyverian elders chant the hymns that predate the Guild
Songs of hunters long since passed, of voids that can't be filled
We sprinkle dust from monsters that you felled throughout your years
Diablos horn, Rathalos scale—to ward away the fears

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[Pre-Chorus 2]
Spirits watch! Ancestors wait!
Hunter cross! Through the final gate

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[Chorus]
THE LAST RITUAL! WE SING YOU TO THE GROUND!
THE LAST RITUAL! THE FINAL SONG, THE FINAL SOUND!
THE LAST RITUAL! YOUR HUNTING DAYS ARE DONE!
THE LAST RITUAL! YOUR LEGACY'S BEGUN!

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[Bridge - Spoken over funereal piano]
[Quietly]
We don't bury our dead. We plant them.
From every hunter, a tree will grow.
From every tree, a forest.
From every forest... a new hunter will learn to walk.
It is the cycle.

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[Verse 3 - Emotional, weeping guitars]
The seed is planted where your heart once pumped the hunter's fire
A symbol that your spirit will in nature never tire
Your children's children's children will sit beneath its branches
And feel your presence with them as the sunlight dances
The monsters that you hunted will return to this very spot
To graze upon the leaves and remember what you wrought
A tree grown from a hunter—that's the Wyverian way
To become part of the forest at the ending of your day

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[Guitar Solo - Doom metal, slow, weeping, infinite feedback]

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[Final Chorus - Massive, then fading]
THE LAST RITUAL! WE SING YOU TO THE GROUND!
THE LAST RITUAL! THE FINAL SONG, THE FINAL SOUND!
THE LAST RITUAL! YOUR HUNTING DAYS ARE DONE!
THE LAST RITUAL! YOUR LEGACY'S—

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[Outro - Fading to silence]
[Whispered]
...begun.
The rain falls on fresh soil.
The tree will grow.
...and so will you.
...in every hunter that follows.

Funeral Doom Metal, Nerdcore, male