Kent appeared in a rather bizarre place.
When his consciousness was pulled away, he found himself in front of an old castle. It was old, considering the worn-out walls and wood. Crows circled it as if it were some ritual ground.
Creak.
Suddenly, the large door creaked open, and a voice came from inside, causing Kent to wonder if he should be there in the first place.
"You're not going to keep standing there, are you?"
Kent gave the castle a curious look for a few more seconds before walking inside. Surprisingly, the interior wasn't that eerie. However, it wasn't without its wonders and some terrific displays.
On one side of the large hall where he appeared, a young man stood, cleaning a stained dagger. Lying on the table were thousands of different weapons that had been polished to their finest.
"First rule of an assassin, always treat your weapons like you treat yourself," the man behind the table said, focusing on the dagger for a couple of minutes before turning to Kent.
