One week

Samael pushed through the warriors that stood in his way like a beast out of control.

Faced with such force and impetus, the warriors were unable to resist. It was already too daring to obstruct his way, taking into account that they should not offend their superior.

Finally, a deep and imposing voice ended their suffering.

"General Zurie!" Ambrose bellowed, intervening in the situation. "What kind of behavior is this?"

The warriors, relieved by their general's presence, stepped aside, letting Ambrose pass.

Samael snorted under his breath and arranged his disheveled clothes until Ambrose stopped a few steps away in front of him.

"Where is the Saintess, General Medaan?" Without apologizing for his inappropriate behavior, Samael demanded answers.

The pupils in his eyes were contracted into thin lines like a feline's and two pairs of fangs protruded from his mouth, exposing his agitation.