The man bearing the unsheathed great sword entered the hall, his gaze fixed on the Church's main altar in front of him.
Each tier of the main altar was symmetrically lined with statues clad in hooded robes, all with hands raised as if pleading for something.
Only the statue at the highest tier was different.
It was a headless figure, holding a bottle and pouring some kind of liquid downwards.
Where the bottle pointed, at the very center of the altar's lowest tier, lay a human skull on a table.
Kneeling before the skull was a person in a white hooded robe, with hands clasped as if in prayer.
Strands of silver hair fell from the hood, resting on slender, pale fingers.
"Great Archbishop Amelia."
The man called out.
"Ah, Master Beethoven."
The woman responded softly, as if awakening from a dream.
"Are you well?"
The Chief Hunter asked with concern.
"I am well, Master. The wisdom of Grand Patriarch Dickens has always protected me,"
Amelia said calmly.
"That's good."
