Silas wished he was dead. It would have made things so much easier to slough off this mortal coil and travel Hell as the demon he was.
They were making their way along the swamp road. Every so often a small group of Wrathful would charge out of the murky depths. He and Banshee could usually hear them coming, splashing and raging through the water. They were not great at subtlety.
Banshee with her staff and Silas with his fist were both ready for the Wrathful when they did show. Being consumed by rage made their foes ferocious, but they were unskilled fighters relying on their numbers. So far, the size of the group hadn’t been a problem, but they seemed to be getting more common. Word must have spread that they were here.
Silas continued to be impressed with Banshee’s skills. For
