"Did that friend agree?"
Within the Stone Hall of the Holy City, the white-haired young man on the throne appeared weary, with dark gold flickering in his eyes.
"He agreed to our demands."
Adams stood inside the hall in his golden armor, while outside, the giant flying eagle basked in the sun, crouching motionless.
"To kill a Sixth Order High Priest, Adams, aren't our demands a bit excessive?" the white-haired young man asked, his legs covered with a thin blanket, worried it might cause discontent and estrangement with their friend.
"The number of Saints in the Snake-man Tribe exceeds ours."
"Without this, if the army presses forward in the future, our Holy City will have no chance of survival."
Adams said calmly, his expression remaining stern.
The white-haired young man was silent, then looked towards the sky outside the Stone Hall.
Holy City… humanity's last hope.
But everything seemed so precarious.
"Have all the infiltrators in the city been identified?"
