At the southernmost tip of the continent, over 1000 kilometers from the angelic ruins, a thick fog rose, concealing behind it an immense mountain, the Sacred Mountain. At the top of this imposing verdant mountain, stretched a resplendent city as far as the eye could see. In its center stood a grand white castle, golden and sumptuous, dominating the landscape with its towering spires and sparkling windows. Inside, one could admire a dazzling room decorated in silver, gold, white, and green. In the center of this room stood seven thrones of pure gold and other precious stones. Compared to the last meeting, only one of the thrones was empty.
Ignotus, rarely present, sat calmly in his chair. His eyes were still blindfolded, and his very long hair trailed on the floor.
"Can someone tell me why my pawns were killed?" asked the Archangel of Faith, Maël. His bored gaze swept over the other seated archangels.