Demonic Devourer's Development

I've seen a few red-haired women before, but this was the first with red hair and red eyes. And also fighting with two axes and cursing like a demon…

Well, now it was my turn to curse. I was that close to missing my targets and watching them being sent to chat with Devourer personally! So close to failure… No way I would give Wendigo the opportunity to gloat that fat.

Not waiting any longer, I ran out of my cover and towards the fight. The woman who must be Yvenna, distracted by the fall of her ally, missed a blow, and though it landed on her shoulder pad, the leather could only soften the blow, not prevent it entirely.

Their situation was poor already, and this just made it worse. But their opponents, so sure of their victory now, were at their most vulnerable to an attack from behind.

I got the first one without even alerting the other guards. Their heavy armour was a good protection from my claws, too good for me to just try—so instead, I grabbed his head and turned to the side until I heard the snap. Easy.

The second didn't go down as easily. By that time, the reaction of Yvenna and her allies gave me out, and before I could repeat the manoeuvre, he turned towards me with his sword. Still too slow—I stabbed him with a spear-like palm into an unprotected armpit of his sword arm. His gasp of pain was echoed by Yvenna's roar.

It wasn't an immediately lethal injury, but it was debilitating enough to shove the man away and get to the next. Now that they saw me, the guards scrambled to change their formation, but my appearance was an unwelcome surprise, and just the distraction the kicked child needed to stand back on his feet and join the fight again.

Not that I needed them that much. Armour or no armour, these guys moved like snails in it, and hit like hairs. Their defeat was only a matter of pulling them out of their shells.

I sent a guard flying with a fist to his helmet and watched him not standing up again.

Or maybe pulling them out of their shells won't even be necessary. I must've overestimated them.

After I began to hit with my fists instead of claws, things became even better. The metals of the mortal realm were as weak as the mortal realm itself, and I beat the guards' chests and heads in together with their metal carapaces. The guys I apparently was searching for helped, too.

In a few more minutes, everything was over. Except for Yvenna's desire to fight.

"And fuck you too!" she shouted and pounced at me, swinging her axes. I rolled away, cursing under my breath. How I was supposed to talk with her if she was trying to kill me?

"Wait! Yvenna, stop! He was helping us!" From the back of the alley came an old man with another lantern in his hand, surrounded by two more people, weaponless. "Everyone, help me calm her down!"

No one seemed eager to do that. I cursed again. Yes, I didn't mistake her for another girl, and yes, Devourer didn't lie when he said that she was insane, in the worst sense of the world. Who she took me for?

"I'm not your enemy! Devourer sent me!" I said, waving my hands and not forgetting to jump away from another swing. "You are supposed to serve him, no, wild woman? He must've been in dire straits to take you in the ranks of his servants!"

Yvenna froze. "Voren sent you?"

I gauged her expression. Too much suspicion and anger, too little shock or joy… I nodded. "Yes. From Hell itself, the city of Dis! And I'm most positive that there cannot be better proof than this." With these words, I took off the flap of skin that covered the lower half of my face and turned towards the light.

"What the fuck ARE you?.." Yvenna breathed out, staggering back.

"Can it be—a demon?" the old man hopped towards us with incredible for his age speed. Now, HIS face was not simply joyful—he radiated more light than his lantern. He was on the precipice of tearing up. "In our darkest hour, he sent us his warrior!"

"A real demon?" the taller boy gasped and ran up to look. The reaction of the others in his company mirrored his, differed only in the volume and form of the expressions of disbelief and curiosity.

I beamed, pleased both to be done with the first step of my mission and from their attention. "Yes, this is true. My name is the Master of Sin, and in Hell, I was sent on the dangerous mission of finding you… his church, is that right?" I looked at the old man. "You must be Bishop."

"That's right." He bowed to me. "I'm most pleased to meet you, the Master of Sin. But templars must've hunted us purposefully, and we can't stay here. We were running from the city as it stood—now we have to hurry even more."

I looked at the alleyway they came from and saw a loaded cart. I pointed at it. "Am I right to guess that this was what slowed you down?"

Bishop turned towards it. "Yes… There are many incredible valuable texts, and I can't… I knew I should, but I couldn't destroy them—but they couldn't be given to templars either. If only we had a horse… Then we could go to the gates right now and hope that the guards in the night shift can be bribed to open them."

I shook my head. "Too much hopes for my liking, and for success of any half-decent plan. I was told to have you alive, first and foremost. Devourer has a use for you, Bishop, and he mentioned nothing of books. Therefore…" I snatched the lantern from his hands. The fire inside flickered from the movement. "Take what you can hold and I will burn the rest, since you cannot."