Monument of Faith, a testament to conviction even in death.
Mike had always been curious about what was drawing him forward. When he saw the monument, it seemed he found the answer, yet he always felt he was missing something. His gaze wandered over the stone, searching as thoroughly as possible.
"Huh."
"What's this?"
Looking up at the upper left corner of the monument, Mike noticed a poem surrounded by messages. To be precise, it was an incomplete poem:
With flesh and blood, I guard the hills and streams,
Through wars and whispers, as the raven dreams.
My sword cleaves darkness, each demon to bereave,
__
....
There was a space left at the end, clearly missing a line. The poem was odd; the first two lines were written by one person. The style of the third line changed abruptly.
"If I'm not mistaken, these three lines were left by three Supreme Beings?" Mike frowned, feeling something was off.
