After a long silence.
"Are those three Kings of Angel?"
Cattleya, the Hermit, pushed up her glasses and frowned.
"They should be."
Audrey, Justice, said slowly, "Mr. World shared statues of the Fourth Epoch's gods with us before. Yes, today's True Gods are represented by symbols, but back then, they had fixed appearances... Three of those gods looked like them..."
A deathly silence fell Above the Gray Fog. One by one, everyone realized the same thing: the Creator of the City of Silver had three Kings of Angel under him—the White Angel, the Wisdom Angel, and the Wind Angel. In the Northern Continent, three True Gods were worshipped: the Eternal Blazing Sun, the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, and the Lord of Storms.
What was more, the Northern Continent's creation myth said those three gods had been born directly from the Creator's mind!
Could it be...
"The kings betrayed the Lord..."
Derrick, the Sun, spoke in a low voice full of pain and despair. Only now did he finally understand what the priest in Afternoon Town had meant.
The Lord was dead!
The Lord had been betrayed and devoured by the Kings of Angel he trusted. He could no longer save them... All the City of Silver's perseverance over the centuries had been nothing but an empty illusion, an impossible dream.
"This is only a painting. We can't be sure it's true."
Alger, the Hanged Man, spoke gravely. "It may be a malicious distortion of the legend that the three gods were born from the Creator's Mental World... But whatever the case, I think you should be prepared."
The painting had hit him hard when he first saw it, so he understood how everyone felt. He chose his words to help them regain their composure.
But someone immediately contradicted him.