Demonic Devourer's Development

Chapter 239: THE MASTER OF SIN. Hunted

On the second day of my stay in the cave that was the secret shelter of Devourer’s Church in the wilderness between the Blue Mountains and the city of Tinaris, a member of the church reported that there gathered a search party. A serious one.

And fast, because just a couple hours after he ran to the shelter with that report, templars and guards with search dogs spread out of the city.

“We can’t stay here any longer. We need a better shelter… elsewhere.” Bishop stated the obvious, wringing his hands.

Everyone’s obvious lack of desire to lose this place, too, was written on their faces. There were a dozen of adepts besides the people I mentally put into my hand-picked elite squad and Bishop, who was in his own category with his organisational skills and the knowledge of his church.

His only problem was the poor performance when under stress. Thankfully for him, I was there, so I began to bark orders.

“Yes, so get what you can hold, but only the most important things. Weapons, food, travel supplies. Gather everything else into a pile. Get oil there, too—we will make a trap here for whoever goes within… Is any of you good at making traps?”

At my question, Gi stepped forward. “I can make snares.”

“Excellent. Well, what are you waiting here for? You want to become food for templars’ animals when they track you?” I showed them my teeth in a tangible promise of what would happen to them if they didn’t move faster.

It worked perfectly. Even Gi, who was the most imperturbable of them, and the fearless Yvenna, ran off in a hurry.

“Bishop, only you don’t have to be in such a hurry, yet.” I told him before he could leave, too. “While I’m sure you have plenty of things to gather, before that, tell me where we all might find a place to hide. I am assured that some of your flock will be fine with travelling over the dangerous mountains full of monsters and hiding in caves there, but… Look at yourself. Old and frail. Or some others, soft and weak with the life in the city… You won’t get far, and you will slow us down.”

“Of course…” Bishop lowered his eyes. “The flesh is weak, and the templars… they are everywhere now. And in the wilderness, even worse enemies hide—angels that came from Heaven in search of our lord Devourer. It’s…” He sighed.

“Please, don’t tell me we have nowhere to run anymore?” I frowned. If so, then Bishop was less farsighted than I’d like, and some sacrifices in the name of my orders would have to be done sooner than I thought I might need them. Besides, there were things he mentioned before… “Didn’t you have secret quarters in other cities? Other… brothers and sisters that will shelter us.”

“We do, but they are all in the cities. How would we get there, when our descriptions must be spoken to everyone by heralds by now?” Bishop stopped wringing his hands to pull on his triangular beard instead, and so hard I began to fear he would tear it out together with half of his face. “There’s, of course, the ring… But it’s a single item…”

The ring. I pulled it out of the pocket and thought. Its disguise was convenient, yes… I raised my eyes at Bishop.

Hair grey half from age and half from nature. The net of wrinkles, the eyes looking at me from under the sagged eyelids. I saw dozens of old men that looked so much like him in the villages I passed… If not for the different clothes and for that smart spark in Bishop’s eyes that were now clouded with anxiety, it’d be so easy to mistake them for one another…

Humans were all on one face for me. If Bishop dressed differently and shaved off his beard… Other hair too, to be sure… I wouldn’t recognise him at first.

Would humans? Those that only had his description, and where did they get it? From their memories, that of his neighbours in Tinaris, and what little they saw in the night’s fight.

A smile bloomed on my lips, grew wider and wider as I realised this plan might just work. “Just tell me where the closest shelter is, Bishop. I will find a way to solve our other problem.”

“There’s a shop in Glesk, two days of walking on the road, it’s owned by our own, and there are some others in the city… we will find a shelter there, if we pass the patrols somehow.” Bishop calmed down a little and now looked at me with hope. “You had an idea about that, my lord?”

Two days… two more days wasted, and two more days before the invasion. But the capital was even more far, and dangerous. Too bad.

“I had, indeed. Bishop, catch someone and tell them to gather all their spare clothes in the pile we won’t burn. Also, make sure they will not take with them things we won’t need, and will take everything we will need—somehow I feel like not all of your brothers and sisters know what to gather for a journey. Then, get me Gi.”

“Will be done, my lord.” Bishop bowed to me and walked out.

I left the hall of gatherings too. There were my own things I needed to get. Well, they were Bishop’s things at some point… documents, plans, reports. All that paper, so thin and brittle compared to thick parchment, but still so heavy when gathered in tight stacks. As the strongest here, I had the responsibility to move it on my shoulders if I wanted the rest to move with a satisfying speed.

The clock was ticking, but Bishop made everyone work at their most effective. When the things were sorted—and since he prepared for something like that in the past, as it turned out, everyone here knew what to pick and where from better than I feared—I and Gi made the trap for both the trackers and their pets.

When we left, I was sure that the templars won’t catch our team easily.

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