[Three Weeks earlier]
The walls of Ashwick rose from the forest floor. It was an anomaly amidst the trees. To any observer, they were formidable fortifications, but to Archdeacon Silas, they represented a masterpiece of the church's engineers.
He stood at the edge of the treeline, looking at the city. The journey from Creamont had taken three weeks. It had been a trek that had tested his endurance and, most importantly, his patience.
But while he came out of Creamont unharmed, his mental state was not stable, and that was because of the rage he was feeling toward one person: Reidar.
He walked toward the North Gate. The guards on duty, Level 330 Paladins clad in the trimmed armor of the Church, stiffened as they recognized him.
"Archdeacon," the lead Paladin said, dropping to one knee.
Silas didn't acknowledge him. He simply walked past the heavy iron gates and entered the city.
