I drew back in shock, only to lean closer in the next moment and replace my foot on the girl's neck with my stinger.

"Who are you? Are you working on these bastards who call themselves gods? Are you spying for them?"

The girl took in a deep breath and let out a bout of laughter, rough from my treatment of her neck. "There the fuck did you took that from? I'm Yvenna. Why the fuck would gods need spies? They don't care shit for what's happening down there, anyway."

"They care for me, and I'm there. And you are an adventurer." I pressed my stinger into her skin, but didn't pierce it. "What was that stuff you were sprouting about prophecies? Where do you know about me?"

I watcher her face closely, trying to measure if she was lying or not. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing fast, but it was from exertion, not from any signs of nervousness. She didn't seem afraid of me at all, actually—instead, she stared at my face with a mix of morbid curiosity and worship in her eyes.

"The prophecies were written by the Unholy Prophet Dabelio, I think, a century or so ago? But he wrote about you. He wrote… that you will look like a mix of parts from all sorts of creatures, or like anything, and that you will be hungry. That if you will come to us, it will be from Hell, but one day you will reach Heaven and devour gods. Most didn't believe him, of course. Told that he was just some rambling mad guy. But those who did knew to thank you for what are you going to do! The Prophet wrote about this, too. The gods need to be eaten, so the world could become good again. And it's all true! I always knew it was true, but now I really-really know!"

I stood up and stepped back from her. She believed, that I could see. What to do with her, that I really couldn't. Without ever knowing anything about this, somehow, against all logic, I got followers. A century ago… I was still fighting in the stinkiest pits of Hell at that time. The memories of that period of my life were pretty blurry because of how often I died. I think I was a couple of decades old by then. Or a couple of couples of decades.

How a human could know me then, or more, predict me being here, now, on a mission to kill the bastards who called themselves gods, I had absolutely no idea. And what to do with this, I didn't know either.

Yvenna stood up too and shook the snow off her clothes. "Damn, I hate to miss a kill. Damn griffins with their damn wings. Should've gone on something that crawls, but just had to go where it pays better. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Bishop always says the same, too."

"So, you and the other believers worship me, Yvenna, right?"

"Yeah! We sometimes killed people so they could pass you messages into Hell with how we wait for you to fix the things! You didn't get any of these, no?"

I shook my head. "No. Maybe they went to Heaven, or just forgot about them. Or I never met them. And since you worship me, you would do whatever I say?"

"Sure!" Yvenna nodded eagerly. "If you are going to fix the world, you might need some help. Plus, I guess you deserve some worship, anyway. You know, I always thought you'd be bigger. Maybe have horns and breathe fire… Though, you look wild right now, too. I thought you'd be stronger, too, but the Prophet wrote that you'd be weak at the start and need to eat to get stronger."

I huffed. "I'm stronger than you, at least. If not for that mouth of yours, I would've killed you ten times by now. Now…" I gave that mouth another long look. It was a centrepiece of her face. Red, curved, full lips. Pink tongue that peeked outside to wet them. Straight and white teeth. "How about you use these lips to worship my dick?"

It took a second for the offer to register, and when it did, I watched with inner amusement how Yvenna's face and neck turned as red as hair. "Are you fucking serious?!" flew at my face at the same time as her punch.

I caught her fist in my palm and turned her wrist in my hold until Yvenna had to twist around to prevent me from breaking a bone. I felt her muscles and tendons straining in inconvenient position, and saw her hissing in pain.

"Don't try that again, Yvenna."

"Then don't say stuff like that! That, that," the blush that just started to recede, returned to her face again with vengeance, "that's fucking dirty! Disgusting!"

"And I'm a demon, what else did you expect? That I would be nice and kind and handsome? Well, you got too late for the last one, and I don't remember ever having the other two," I said, leaning closer to her. Damn, this girl was fun to mess with. If she kept acting out at me, though, I won't be able to trust her enough to keep around.

"I didn't think about it," Yvenna admitted and tugged at her hand. "Now let me go, dammit!"

I didn't, and she snarled at me like a wild animal, trying to reach and hit with another hand. I caught it too and changed my hold until both of her arms were twisted behind her back. This way, even though she was physically stronger, she was in my power.

Even so, she kept trying to tug herself free. "Get your fucking hands away from me!"

"Not until you calm down." However long it took. I had to establish dominance. With this girl, I knew… she was really like a raging beast that understood strength the best of all.

It took a while for Yvenna to stop struggling. By the time she did and simply sat in the snow, panting for breath, the cut on her forehead stopped bleeding.

"Will you stop hitting me now, Yvenna?"

"I'll try, Devourer. Promise. Please, let me go." I did, and she began to rub at her arms. "Bishop, hell, everyone says I have a problem keeping my fists in check. So, do you really want to?.."