Demonic Devourer's Development

'The mission. Remember the damned mission. Wendigo… Well, if WENDIGO will learn and laugh about this, I will have something to tell her. If I succeed here. Otherwise, it will be Devourer I will have to answer to.'

I cringed slightly. As far as masters went, Devourer was soft. He didn't kill for entertainment or for slightest mistakes. That didn't mean he was weak, or prone to mercy towards those he considered useless. And I knew that if he really wanted to, he could kill one in ways that won't just send them straight to reincarnation—he could kill in a way that won't let one to even reincarnate.

To become nothing at all. It was somehow more terrifying than simply losing the 'I' that makes a person in reincarnating. It was just the dose of sheer terror, the fear that comes from something less substantial and solid, but much harder to hide from, that I needed to not do anything stupid when the guards looked at me.

They must've assumed me to be the gang's leader, since I walked first and looked the cleanest. Behind me, everyone else stayed quiet. Whatever laughs there were from my looks, whatever humiliation there was from their disguises—it was all gone now under the cloud of anxiety that I could almost smell.

"Hey, ugly face! Don't go any further. The new orders came—we are searching for dangerous el… elemantis… E-le-ments," the guard finished the long word and fixed the helmet that dropped to his eyes. "You'll are very suspicious."

"Yeah, maybe we shouldn't let you in." Another added with a nod. "We have plenty of our own beggars."

I cursed inwardly. This! The woe that came from being too smart. I could hear a whisper behind my back—some of Devourer's followers wondered what they would do if we won't be let in. This was bad.

"We," I bit my tongue and recalled the way Yvenna spoke—with fewer longer words I liked to use so much, even though I couldn't remember anymore where they came from. But that's why I used them—because this way I at least won't forget them. Then I thought again and imagined I was a few notches dumber. "We, master guard, we ain't beggars. We're honest workers. We just wanna work and earn honest coin."

"Yeah? Even her?" A guard pointed at Bishop with a sceptical look. "Isn't she too old for honest work?"

"She's too old for dishonest, too!" Another added with a laugh.

This pair… I remembered their faces. If I would see them again, I will kill them with a relish. They were such a nuisance at this moment.

"Hey, yo—" I interrupted whatever Yvenna wanted to say by pushing her head down, again.

"That's a wife of mine, so don't ya tell that! She can keep a house. Her hands are still good!"

"And everything sure else isn't." The guard snorted. "Where do you take 'em that tall? And that old?"

Bishop, Hell spare his soul, smiled. He was wringing his hands again, but that only gave the image of an anxious old woman more credibility. "Everyone in my family was tall. My pa was taller than yer house!" he said in a gratingly high-pitched voice.

"Must've been rich, too, to give a dowry to match the age." The guard looked at Bishop for another moment and moved his gaze to the other people that gathered behind me. "And what's these? Don't you tell that's your family."

"No, no! They're friends. We…" I suddenly had a bout of inspiration. "Our village was destroyed by monsters. Terrible, terrible monsters, so we're looking for work to feed us. They say cities have work for everyone."

"If I was a monster, I'd run when I saw your mug… Che, these brown-hands keep breeding, and we should let them in our city and give them work?" The guard spit on the ground.

"Where adventurers look? They keep chasing rare monsters and there's no one to deal with the fucking lizards. I swear, every spring they come…"

To my surprise and relief, not only the two believed me, one even grew somewhat sympathetic. He looked us over again. "We're searching for dangerous heretics. An old man, a woman with red hair and eyes, two children and others… Hm… Hey, kids!"

Kids, Hector and Gi, looked at the guard with unhidden alarm. The guard just snorted. "Are you, by chance, heretics?"

They were smart enough to shake their heads no, and then I interfered. "Gods bless, heretics? We? What scary things you say, mister guard! We ain't no heretics, we always told our prayers to the Twelve. Who else? I say, who else? Demons ain't for praying, they are for eating ya soul if you didn't pray to gods enough!"

Next to me, Bishop raised his hands in a silent prayer. I wondered if he only pretended right now, prayed to Devourer, or something else.

"Oh, just let 'em in." The first guard waved at his partner. "You keep pity these freaks and what for? It's not like they'll be grateful."

"We're grateful, we are!" I bowed and pushed Yvenna to bow too, though she responded to that with a subtle, but painful kick in my shin. "Please, let us in, misters guards!"

The less friendly guard sighed, the more friendly guard shook his head, but they opened the gate and our coddle was finally let inside. And there I could, at last, quietly let out the breath of relief.

"Now, to the shelter you promised, Bishop." I commanded as soon as we were out of earshot. "I hope they won't kick us out without asking when we appear here as we are."

"We still have some money to stay elsewhere, if anything happens… We probably will have to, at least the less conspicuous of us." Bishop looked at them, his flock that looked at the city around with visible relief.

I just nodded. I had other problems in mind now. Time was ticking… A week was left until the date of the demonic invasion.. If I and the strike team went to the capital now, on horses, there still would be almost no time left to plan the attack on the Wheel.