Chapter 250: THE MASTER OF SIN. A house of cards

I looked into the darkening sky one more time. Dark blue, violet and red with gentle pink feathers of clouds, it was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen in my life. I was going to see it again, but who knew for how long? Now, while I still had the opportunity, I had to enjoy this beauty and embed it in my memory.

Maybe I will save it for a few decades. Or I won’t die in this operation that will have the joy of looking into the sky as many times as I want to, of watching every single sunset and sunrise if I had such a desire.

Right now, though, I had to stop and focus on other things. People. I turned towards them, my striking team: Yvenna, Gi, Hector, and two other fighters Bishop had found for me—the only ones who came to the capital in time.

The way here, in the short time I had, wasn’t easy. We had to avoid big settlements, and not stay for long in the small ones. At the same time, our carriage needed a road to move on, and more than once I had to pull it out of the mud into which dirt roads turned under rains that, as Hector convinced me, were a normal thing for the time of the year.

“Do you understand the plan? Yvenna, repeat what you have to do. I want a special confirmation from you.”

She grimaced, but repeated the phrases I had her memorise while we travelled and later in the city, while we prepared. “I’m not to create any trouble. I’m just here in case anyone fucks up, then I hack some faces and help ’em get out.”

“Yes, and the people you are watching after are your students, so I hope it will be an additional motivation for you to keep your head on your shoulders, Yvenna. You won’t win against the entire city, remember? You. Won’t.”

The grimace grew darker. “I remember, dammit! I’m not as stupid as you think, porcupine-head!”

My lips curved into a sweet smile. “Forgive me for being tiresome, Yvenna, but my experience tells me it is better to be overly cautious than not cautious enough. Call me jaded, but this is twice as correct when it comes to subordinates… So I want others to repeat their roles as well.”

They did without as much displeasure on their faces, though the children’s impatience mixed with excitement and fear were easily readable, more so on Hector. But I knew they won’t freeze if it comes to action.

We moved out. The plan, in its core, was simple. While others create a distraction on the outer side of the temple called the Wheel of the Twelve, I will sneak inside and desecrate the shrines. If I get noticed, I will hide by changing the illusory disguise from the ring I wore on my finger. Right now it showed me as a bulky older man with a thick beard, but no hairs at all above his nose.

The temple wasn’t surrounded by a wall, but there was a moat instead of it, and plenty of templars standing guard, watching dutifully into the twilights lit by the many magic and oil lanterns that stood alongside paved roads. Too many for me to sneak behind with a high probability of success.

Then, noises and lights made people’s head turn away from the point I chose for my entry. The distraction my subordinates were creating—a fire. A house on fire, to be precise. For that, we walked around the temple at day, pretending to be just normal onlookers, in search of a building that won’t be made of stone.

In the rich district, those were rare, but many mansions here had wooden extensions: stables, sheds… We just had to find the biggest shed with the lowest fence around it.

Now it must’ve been burning, and city guards rang their bells to alert people about the fire. Meanwhile, I caught a moment when the heads of templars that turned towards the noise created a path for me to walk safely, and stepped on it.

Swam on it, since I had to cross the moat first, but this was a trifle. The water created a good, if temporary, hiding place. And the more time passed, the more tumult was around. Templars were disciplined enough to not run from their posts without a command, but then some were pulled off by their officers, and the people left were more busy watching the fire and guessing its origins than thinking about possible invaders.

After evading their eyes, getting into the temple itself was an easy fit. There weren’t any visitors left at this time of day, and the few priests had long run to or from the fire. No templars stood watch inside the building, either. What was there to guard now?

Maybe its beauty. It was, in my opinion, worth guarding, and I even felt a pang in my chest at the thought of destroying it—though I smothered it in the next moment. There will be life and the time to restore it.

The main hall of the Wheel of the Twelve had twelve statues of white stone depicting gods standing next to its walls. All of them were tall and proud, in flowing robes, cloaks and tunics, with weapons raised high, as if saluting. God of Rogues, the only one I’ve glimpsed personally, was shown very lifelike, and I assumed the rest were also shown right. At the statues’ feet were their altars, and on the walls and the ceiling—mosaics of gods and their deeds, all raising to unite on the tallest point of the temple’s dome.

I spent a minute to remember that beauty, too, then cracked my knuckles, pulled a chisel out of my bag, and began to work.

First, I broke head and book off Goddess of Wizards’ statue, trying to do it as quietly as I could—and didn’t alert anyone yet. Then I pulled a flask of pig blood and a brush to write an ominous “You won’t escape from vengeance!” on the wall. Not the words Devourer would’ve said, but it showed the mood.

As for words he’d say, I added, “Bastards, I will pull out your guts and choke you on your own shit!”. Now that was in his style, and I also had no more pig blood left after this long message.

The last thing I did was pushing the statue of God of Monks down. Even with my strength, it wasn’t that easy, but it was possible… and the white stone fell to the tiled floor to break into pieces with a thunderous noise.

If that didn’t alert someone, then what will?

After that was only the aftermath—leaving the place and making sure the rest did, too. The crime was done, my mission was complete, I could exhale… somewhere where the gods won’t be on my tail.

I got to the outer side of the moat and was almost sure I got out when they appeared before me from the thin air.

“I told you two this wasn’t a false alarm.” Goddess of Magic was impossible to mistake for anyone else after I saw her statue. Just like both other gods present. “The illusion clearly hides a demon, though it’s not Devourer.”

“Any demon that escaped its rightful prison in Hell deserves to be returned here by the force of pure steel!” God of Paladins had a halo around him that shone like five lanterns.

“We should interrogate it before doing that, God of Paladins.” I noted that Goddess of Rangers, who spoke these words, seemed to be a little off from what I saw of her statue, but couldn’t guess why.

Not at that time, at least—the time where I was in deep trouble. Well, the least I could do is to make these three waste time. Maybe the cultists will escape, and maybe a miracle will happen and Devourer will come to get me out.

He knew I will attack the capital if I could, but there were many places and many distractions for the gods to be drawn to. Devourer would pick those where they are at their most vulnerable, and three gods at once—I believed in him, but maybe not quite enough.

“Oh, lords and ladies of divine,” I spoke before they could move from their chatting to fighting and pulled the ring from my finger, showing my true face—they saw through the illusion, anyway. Then I bowed low. “Please, let me plead for my life. Whatever is that you need to know, I shall tell you on my own free will, but know that the torture will bring you nothing, for we, demons, are a kind that lives in the place where even breathing can be agony.”

I didn’t straighten up, but surreptitiously kept watching their faces. The gods’ distaste for me and my kind was obvious—will it make them believe in easy turncoats? Will they believe my lies and grasp for my truths?