Standing beneath the smooth stone wall of the fortress, Leon gazed at the banner hanging from the battlements, the pattern of white flames encircling a center, looking more and more familiar the longer he looked.
Apart from the fire at the bottom of the emblem pointing upwards instead of spreading outwards, he always felt that this symbol was strangely similar to the Holy Sun Wheel of the Church from the original host's memories.
Suppressing the sense of déjà vu in his heart, Leon, holding a Spirit Lamp, walked into the wide city gates.
Both layers of thick steel gateways were left open, and as he led the horse through the Village, he could see sundry items scattered along the pathway, as if left behind in the rush of a crowd's hasty escape.
In this time-disrupted domain, Leon could almost hear the noisy bustle of the population rapidly evacuating.
