XLIII. The Petition of God

Two days later.

Early morning.

When the first rays of morning light piercing through the sky were spreading over the entire East Shore.

At last.

The Eternal Sect found a tall tree with lush branches and a stout trunk, surrounded by a pile of broken stones devoid of any vegetation, as if all the moisture and nutrients in the soil had been completely absorbed by it.

An exceedingly perfect "petition land."

Among the special inspection team, besides Zahak who was in overall charge, there was also a deputy officer overseeing the supervision work, the priest of the Eternal Sect, Marcus.

"Begin the petition."

Marcus spoke with devout sincerity.

His jaw seemed as if it had been detached before, fitted with crude, somewhat rusty steel, his teeth below all black metal, speaking with a markedly hoarse tone, his hair dry, his face covered in sharp cuts unsympathetic, his eyes totally muddled and blind, relying on some sort of magic power to survey his surroundings.