At the highest peak of the Roland temple, the great hall was somber as always and a huge fire flickered. The shadows of the fire swayed on the walls, causing the entire hall to be filled with a mysterious atmosphere.
Prometheus, the Roland temple's Pontiff. He was still wearing his silver mask, and currently, he was alone in the great hall.
Prometheus slowly climbed up the stairs of the spiral staircase. There was an open platform above it, where one could fully feel the cold wind from the summit.
Looking down, below the steps of the temple's main building, there were several ascetics praying at the main hall of the temple on all fours.
He gazed at them for a moment, and his lips curled into a smile.
Absurd fellows.