**Announcement: Sorry about being gone the last few weeks. I’ve been terribly busy with University and I suffered from some mild emotional distress. I will be back to about 1+ chapters per day again. So, here's a short intermission chapter~ Thanks for reading!**
Phanedor and I watched with jaws agape as the demon child returned in less than a day. It shouldn’t have been possible. It wasn't possible! She didn’t leave the dungeon through the labyrinth… She cleared the dungeon by going further in.
She immediately made way for the castle. We knew that the sixth prince was doomed, but we weren't. Our saving grace was Phanedor’s -Path Correction- telling us to celebrate somewhere outside the castle. It was truly a lucky break. So we left. Using my magic to jump to recall points, we fled Gransus.
The Forgotten Lands laid to the west, the Asmodian Woods to the East, and the Demon Continent to the North. The only option was South, to the country of Barbory.
Getting through the pass by Fort Clyfton into Barbory wasn’t hard. We had traveled well ahead of the news of our betrayal, so our papers were quickly approved.
The pass was long and harrowing. Most people didn’t travel this way with less than a small army of guardsmen in case of monster attacks. We didn’t sleep much. It took us three days to travel the pass on foot, which is absurdly fast, and neither of us slept more than an hour during the entire time.
We had powerful enemies on our heels and, knowing Barbory, terrible trouble ahead. Life was supposed to be easy once Thomas was put on the throne… It’s all that damn demon bitch’s fault. The moment she survived destroying a pocket dimension I knew she wasn’t of this world. My best guess is that she’s one of the Fae or Gods that Phanedor talks so much about… But what kind of God would waste their time in this shithole of a country?
It’s truly strange, though. Despite all these terrible happenings, Phanedor doesn’t look the slightest bit unhappy. He seems to be genuinely enjoying this trip. I can’t help but think perhaps he planned all of this from the start. His skill seems too convenient to let something like that girl’s power go unchecked in his plans. The other night I heard him whispering to himself like a madman. He’s always had his nuances, but I’m beginning to question his sanity.
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When we finally reached Barbory we were greeted by the pointed ends of spears. It seems the higher ups in this country had reliable information networks, because they already knew we were fugitives from Gransus. Thankfully the two countries have never had too ‘kindly’ of a relationship.
We were questioned about several mundane things, but nothing strange came up in conversation. Eventually, after about a week of bullshit, we were shipped out as prisoners to the Capital of Barbory, Sheets.
This trip took a second week unto itself. I felt thankful that the country of the Human Fae was rather small from north to south.
It didn’t take long before we ended up in a meeting with the leader of Barbory, Pope Zilo.
The meeting was prefaced with threats of execution, so I was reasonably nervous… But Phanedor never seemed so confident in his life. He looked to be at peace… He almost looked happy.
We were placed in the hallowed halls of a Worship Center, or WC for short. Rows of pews lined the room leading up to an altar. There, at the head, was the Pope. Phanedor and I were seated in the front row, chains hanging from our wrists and ankles like slaves.
“I have heard much about the state of Gransus from my own network,” Said the Pope in a profound voice, “But one thing in particular that I’ve heard about has captivated my interest. Please, tell me in detail about this demon named Calliope.”
Phanedor started to laugh out of the blue. It was a deep throaty laugh. Chills went down my spine. He must have looked hysterical to the members of the church, but I had spent enough time with him to know...
That laugh was for when things went according to his plan.