Wandering Mages, heretics, gang members... regardless of who they were, the only sound now echoing through the deep, narrow alleys of the Lower City District was the chaotic stampede of the returning Defense Army.
Pairs of hard-soled leather boots trampled through puddles, sending foul, murky water splashing everywhere.
The painful memory of a past slaughter by one of the Divine Emperor's Angels, though eight years had passed, still echoed in the minds of these Lower City District scumbags.
The Black War Axe.
The roar of Knight Power.
Wherever he passed, blood laid the foundation and corpses paved the way.
Thanks to the relentless propaganda of the Fire of Vengeance Hermitage and Reinhardt's own brutal methods of suppression, the name of the Vengeful Angel was known to all.
From the Governor's Mansion in the Upper City District to the heretics in the darkest corners of the Lower City District, everyone knew his story.
