West Continent, the vast and solemn square of the Monastery.
The sky was gloomy, filled with dense clouds that no wind could penetrate, the wind blowing across the wide wilderness, making a wailing sound as it swept through the corridors, sounding like the low growl of a monster, oppressing one's mood, almost feeling suffocated.
The firelight reflected on Henos's face, she gently touched her cheek, able to smell the stench of burning corpses, as if still lingering in her ears were the terrified and desperate screams of women at the brink of death.
In front of her stood a fiery execution frame, forged from Shining Gold, which should have been gleaming, was now stained with an eerie dark red by fresh blood and flames.
Henos had always been kept in the deepest garden of the temple by the Great Clan Chief.
She didn't have much memory of Agni.
In her limited memories,
This blood relative was a graceful and elegant woman.
