Demonic Devourer's Development

Bishop wasn't asleep yet, and he was, as always, glad to see me. With him was Gi, who was now, apparently, living there. The boy watched me from afar with gloom, piercing eyes that hid devils knew what sorts of thoughts brewing in his head. Then I flashed him a toothy grin, and he scuttled away.

"It's goes great. I acquired every item you needed, my lord, and didn't go over the budget." Bishop chuckled to himself. "I admit, I never had an experience of organising something just like this. I hope it will be to your liking. The time frame you put was short, and we are restricted in location, but I and everyone I tasked with helping me did our best."

"Can't wait to see it." I grinned in anticipation. The thought alone about what waited for me tomorrow raised my mood. "I think this deserves some special attention from me, too. Yes!" I stood up from the table under confused look from Bishop. "You will help me pick the form in which I will show up to my followers this time. The newbies didn't see me yet, but the others… Should I pick the form they would recognise?"

I followed my words by morphing into a form that most closely resembled the one in which I was the previous time I went to greet my devotees. It wasn't exactly the same—for example, I had to add myself some height to morph away two of my arms—but it was close enough.

"It's fearsome and awe-inspiring, my lord, but I think your followers will be more inspired to see you changed. Every new appendage and attribute of your blessed body signifies a step you make towards our salvation." Bishop took in a shuddering breath and raised a hand to his heart. When he spoke again, his voice shook with emotion. "There's no bigger honour for all of us to help you walk this road, my lord Devourer, and to cheer for your every step."

I shrugged. "Well, you know them better." I morphed back into my more natural shape. I didn't grow out my snout, partly for the better diction, and partly because a city wasn't the best place to have a sensitive nose. "How's Gi adapting?"

"As well as someone in his situation could. He's very unused to open spaces and the sun, but I encourage him to go outside. It's too early for him to get to know other kids in the city, but I made him spend time with Yvenna while I was too busy to watch over him. It wasn't as often as I was afraid it would be, though. He is a much more sensible and quiet kid than Yvenna was in his days… Oh, Yvenna, she was a complete terror. Even when I offered her a roof to sleep under and food, she refused out of sheer stubbornness. And distrust, of course."

Bishop shook his head. His eyes showed a mixture of sadness and nostalgia. "I was afraid that she would just lose her head when she went adventuring, but it turned out to be a great decision for her. It gives her an outlet for the fury she has boiling inside."

What a wonder—a child raised by a cult. And considering Bishop's age, likely not the only one. "Indoctrinate them when they are young, right? Maybe you should've worked in an orphanage, Bishop."

The old man nodded. "I had that thought myself, my lord! It always saddened me to see a street urchin and know that they are here because those who promised to keep our world safe and well instead do the opposite. And I don't mean gods alone. Our rulers, our nobles, even our city guard. I always want to help them in any way I could. To show them the truth of our world… well, that comes without asking. It's also true that children are more receptive to is, as their ears weren't polluted by the priest's lies yet."

"So what stopped you?"

"Sadly, by the law of our city, I need to have a permission of the church of Twelve to make an orphanage of my own. The law was created to stop individuals with certain… abhorrent tendencies from exploiting children in need under a guise of helping them. I'm not one of those, but the church's officials didn't deem me reliable enough." Bishop huffed. "Admittedly, I never was in the best relations with them. But I was careful to avoid raising suspicions about anything illegal I might do."

"I hope that won't come up later in a form of a sudden inspection of one of your cult members who will rat out all others."

"It won't," Bishop said resolutely. "That I swear to you, my lord."

I hummed. I could trust Bishop well enough for now—his level of reverence was impossible to fake—but I knew I won't ever be able to feel as sure about other cultists. It wasn't in my nature to rely on others. Use them, that I could, but rely on them?..

At best, I could rely on Bishop to organise things I knew I won't be able to do myself.

"Well, I just had to say it. Just I as I have to say that if they do, I will have to hide from the bastards who call themselves gods again, but when I will be free to stop, I will find the traitors, no matter which realm they would be in by now, and torture them until they will think that Hell sounds like a nice place to be." I paused. "Well, I suppose I should tell that to my followers tomorrow, not to you."

"Indeed, my lord." For some reason I didn't understand, Bishop smiled. "They would be terrified, of course, by the casualness and seriousness with which you deliver this threat. They will think about that you, someone who saw Hell with your own eyes, will know what could be worse than it. You are their inspiration and their nightmare, my lord. The carrot and the whip."