Chapter 233: THE MASTER OF SIN. The wheel of faith

We stayed in that room for a long time as we put together ideas and knowledge. Piles of notes became taller and taller as the time passed, and the inkwells—dryer and dryer. At some point, Hector came in with oil for the lanterns and food for us, and another time Gi appeared with a report from Tinaris, but besides that, we were undisturbed, just like I ordered.

The vague outline of the plan came to us soon enough, but smoothing out the details wasn’t as easy. I knew the targets that Wendigo and Enforcers will attack and therefore knew the ones they won’t reach. It wasn’t a problem to pick one, juicy and beguiling, not far from our current location—we didn’t have spells to teleport around, after all.

The problem was getting here. I even began to doubt this was such an astounding idea, after all. Maybe I should’ve sated myself with a thinner worm. But that one was in a great position as it stood—there was no saying that reaching other goals would be any easier.

The tall and mighty Wheel of the Twelve, the biggest temple in the country world, which stood in the capital where Bishop already had a strong, if pinned down, clique of “brothers”, was a tempting place, but risky for me, my kind, and anyone on Devourer’s side.

“It’s not impossible, my lord,” Bishop said. The calmness of planning returned him his composure and steadiness, and even added a lively gleam in his eyes. “After all, the goal is to not even infiltrate the Wheel, but to desecrate it. To throw the insult in the false god’s face! This, if thought out well, can be achieved by efforts of a single infiltrator with a bucket of paint and a brush.”

I looked at the plan of the temple he drew from a memory on a piece of paper and hummed thoughtfully. The temple, as the name suggested, was built in a form of a gigantic wheel. In fact, it was more like twelve separate small temples, connected by wide alleys encased in arches of stone and greenery. In the middle of the wheel stood a bigger cathedral, which had altars for all twelve gods.

The entire complex was promoting equality, so there were no walls and twelve roads came out of it, straight, but narrow. The lack of structural protection was compensated by the amount of templars that constantly swarmed around the place.

“This is true. We could strike at one of the outer temples… But whatever happens, it has to be impressive to make sure the gods come. Very impressive… Impressive enough to shock and outrage them until they lose the last of their wits. Just “Devourer was here” won’t do. Even that won’t be easy to do. You said there is constant patrolling around the area, day and night. First, we would have to clear the way. Infiltrate the place, possibly as simple visitors, then maybe create a distraction? Hm… This is where Yvenna would shine.”

“She would, you are right, my lord—but I fear she won’t have sense to retreat when it’s time. No, not fear—I know. She’s a barbarian, a berserker—rage clouds her eyes in battle.” Bishop tightened his fists, frowning. “It’s their common problem, but for Yvenna… well, it didn’t matter what class she’d choose—rage is always within her, always was as long as I know her, and she was as young as Hector when I picked her from the streets… My lord, forgive me for speaking out of turn, and again—but don’t take it against her.”

I let out a long breath. “You know, Bishop,” I began idly, then paused, looking towards the stone ceiling. It was rough, and grey, and reminded me of Hell—but the air itself, wet, cold, but fresh, told me where I was here and now. “After everything you say about her, I truly wonder why. Who knows, maybe your Church would’ve been better off without her entirely—but fine. We will have to work around that… You do have other fighters who could serve as a distraction and fight off templars, after all. Even myself, though there’s a problem of getting into the capital with my looks… I was told you were supposed to have something that could help here.”

Bishop hurriedly nodded. “Yes, it’s right here.” After some fumbling with his pockets, he pulled out a ring and passed it to me. “This ring, when put on a finger, creates an illusion of a human around the wearer. Each time you put it on, the illusion it creates is different. But it’s not corporeal, and the ring doesn’t change one’s voice, or smell.”

I raised my brows. “Interesting.”

The ring, when tried out, worked as offered. Bishop brought me a hand-held mirror, and I watched myself becoming first a hairy man with beard thick like a forest, then a plump teen boy with cheeks to round I wanted to pinch them, then a withered old man.

“This will get the main agent to the target. It will be the temple of Goddess of Wizards, seeing as she had been killed recently…” and that wasn’t an information that had to be hidden from other gods for now. Plus, she was still alive to feel angry about it. My writing quill left an ink mark on the paper, but then I hesitated. “But it’s not far from the main building. We might as well aim there…”

“There will be fewer guards here at these times than normal, my lord. They are too busy patrolling the rest of the city, and outside of it,” Bishop added. “They don’t expect to be attacked at their very heart!”

I grinned. “That’s the point, that’s the point, Bishop.” Another mark was added to the main temple. “Now, tell me—how easy it is to get explosive materials in the mortal realm? This oil you use in lamps—it burns well, but can you blow it up if you want it really much?”