Demonic Devourer's Development

The connection between my voice and my identity took Yvenna a second to make, but as soon as she did, her face burst into a bright grin. "Ah! Dev—"

"Just Voren, and don't scream for everyone to hear," I cut her off and sat on a free chair opposite of her. Not bothering with such small things as asking for permission, I stole a fragrant piece of meat off her place to tuck under my mask and continued, "I don't know how the hell you managed to keep anything secret until now."

"Hey, I can keep secrets. This is just so fucking big! I've told Bishop about it, and the old man almost jumped out of his pants from excitement. Nice mask, by the way… Very pretty." Yvenna smirked. "And where did you hide your, you know," Yvenna folded her palms together and made a figure that vaguely resembled a bird flapping her wings, "things?"

"Shouldn't concern you. I want you to bring me to your Bishop. When I finish eating."

Yvenna gasped as her rapidly emptying plate finally got her attention. "Hey, that was— Ah, I mean, sure… Why don't I just order more if you are hungry?"

"I'm always hungry, Yvenna." I bared my teeth at her and then realised that she couldn't see it because of the mask. "If you want to eat too, you will just have to be faster than me."

She took it as a challenge and won it. Her stomach wasn't quite a bottomless hole like mine, but it was a deep one; while I was handicapped by my mask.

But since my primary goal in all this was to finish the food faster so we could leave the Guild and go to Bishop, I had my own meaningful victory.

⠀⠀

The house of the leader of the cult of demon-worshippers didn't look any different from all the other houses on this street. It was small, wooden, but well-kept and had a small garden in the front, where patches of plants grew their first spring flowers. To announce herself, Yvenna knocked on the door with a tiny hammer that was hanging next to it just for that purpose.

But since she was Yvenna, she also had to shout on the entire street, "Oooi, old man, that's me! You just have to see whom I brought today!"

The door opened to reveal a tall man in his fifties, with a salt-and-pepper hair that had more salt than pepper and a thin goatee that he was yanking at in aggravation. The man gave Yvenna a long-suffering look.

"Yvenna, was did I tell you about shouting like that?"

"This time is different! This—"

Bishop's small, but bright eyes fell on me, and the annoyance in them turned into excitement in an instant. "And you must be… Oh, I can't believe my eyes! I am unworthy to speak your name. But what I'm doing? Let's come in."

He ushered us in. The inside of the house was just as ordinary as the outside. Plants in the pots on the shelves, a round table with several chairs, some small knickknacks to lively the place that was, I imagine, made to entertain guests and spend time to do… whatever it was ordinary people did in their free time. The most interesting thing in there was a bookshelf full of old tomes.

And since I had very little interest in reading things outside of what the System wrote to me, I focused on Bishop. "So, Yvenna told me you had prophecies about me."

"Yes. The Unholy Prophet, as they called him, wrote them all down. They were what opened my eyes on this world, the fragile balance it was in, and the way it was bound to be broken." Bishop came to one of his plants and rubbed a leaf between his fingers. Then he turned his sharp eyes at me. "Please, my lord, can you take off your mask? I don't want to offend you with mistrust, but you just have such a perfectly human disguise, and after all these years, I have to see to truly believe."

I shrugged. If I didn't like how this conversation vent, after we were done, I could always kill him, though at this point it would be too late. Well, I believed Yvenna wasn't lying about the things she told me—you just can't fake that level of crazy—and since no divine lightning fell on me from Heavens yet, I can only assume that her cult pals were trustworthy enough.

Or no one believed them, which was also an option. Who believes crazy?

I took my mask off and grinned at the sharp intake of breath from Bishop. That grin dimmed when the man's eyes, instead of filling with fear, or terror, or other similar, appropriate and comfortably familiar reactions, shone with reverence.

"This is true… All true!" he whispered, bringing his hands to his heart. His eyes grew wet. "The Great Devourer… Our saviour and executioner. Finally, you came."

"Yeah, that's him all right!" Yvenna beamed with such pride, it was like my arrival to this world was entirely her doing. "And you told me I shouldn't have gone to the mountains. Blah blah blah, it's too dangerous, but just look at him, Bishop!"

Bishop took in a deep breath and rose a hand to interrupt her bragging and used another to wipe at his eyes. "Yes, this was some truly Heaven— no, Hell-sent luck you caught this time, Yvenna. My lord, if there's anything you want from me or my flock, we are at your service. I only wish I knew about your arrival beforehand, so I could arrange a proper welcome ceremony."

"I don't care for ceremonies, Bishop. What I want to, is to see that book where you got your prophecies from. I want to know who wrote her, when, why and how."

"The Book of Revelations. I have it. I'm its keeper now, ever since the Prophet had its last breath. It will be my honour to show you."

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