When the high priest finally left, Irin's eyes darted nervously around the place as he thought of his next line of action.
Irin struggled against the ropes used to tie him to the chair. Despite his efforts, he found it nearly impossible to loosen the knot because of how strongly the ropes were tied.
"Not again," he muttered. "I won't die at the hands of a mad priest."
As he struggled, he recalled a memory in his mind:
A memory not of his current world, where a group of people dragged him to a place and brutally executed him.
The memory always ended there, like a torn page ripped from a book containing his past life. He remembered nothing else except the moment of his death.
Irin thought it was odd that this was the only memory he recalled.
He ignored those thoughts and concentrated on what he needed to do. He dragged the rope hard against the edge of the chair, and the rope gave the impression it was about to cut apart.
"Come on," he applied more force on the rope. "Come on…"
Then Irin heard footsteps inside the church. He was certain it wasn't the high priest nor his disciples. He lifted his head only to see the woman and her child sneaking past the pillars at the far end of the aisle.
He was relieved to see them.
"Over here," he made a quiet sound.
When they finally got close to him, the woman's face went pale when she got a clearer view of Irin's face.
"They did this to you?"
"You shouldn't be here," Irin said, ignoring her concern.
"And watch you to die?" she shot back at him before pulling a small knife from her sleeve. "Not a chance."
She got down on her knees and started cutting at the ropes.
"They're setting something up already," she said under her breath. "An execution table in the middle of the square."
Irin's jaw tightened.
"The High Priest gave the order," she added. "He wants everyone to watch you get publicly executed."
The last knot finally got loose, and Irin sucked in a sharp breath as blood rushed back into his hands.
"I would not let him kill you. You did nothing wrong," the woman said, putting the knife away and pulling out something else from her sleeve.
She handed him a bundle of neatly wrapped clothes and a bottle of medicine.
"Crushed frost root and ash leaf. Apply it to the cuts; it will heal gradually. You should drink half of this; don't forget. It'll dull the pain."
"I'll try not to. Thank you," Irin said.
She then placed a small bag of coins into his palm. "Take this. It's not much, but it'll get you far enough."
He stared at the coin. "You shouldn't-"
"There's no need to argue," she murmured.
She leaned closer to Irin and spoke in an urgent voice. "You'll find a carriage waiting behind the church. I paid the driver to leave the reins loose. Take the western road and keep going straight, and don't turn or stop for any reason. You'll reach the train station by midday."
Irin nodded, ensuring he remembered everything she said.
"Get yourself a ticket," she said. "Go to any city. Any city apart from here. Just get far away from here."
He looked at her, then said quietly, "You deserve the truth."
"What is the truth?" she asked.
"The High Priest was behind the disappearances. He plotted with a group of cannibals to keep this town under his captive."
Her breathing hitched suddenly. "I had my suspicions about him, though I wasn't so sure. Speaking of which, doesn't it strike you as odd that cannibals have suddenly shown up near the mountain? This case is more complex than it appears. I'll definitely investigate further."
"He used them to spread fear and further whatever perverted agenda he has," Irin stated.
Her face turned pale. "You're sure?"
"He admitted it."
She stared at the altar. "All those people… including my son, died because of him."
"You need to expose him," Irin pleaded. "He must face the consequences of everything he's done."
She swallowed hard. "It won't be easy. The mayor heeds his words, and half of the town is loyal to the Church.
"I know," Irin said. "But if you don't try, more people will suffer."
"I'll do my best. I'm going to speak to other people. We won't be silent. He'll pay for his crimes, I promise you."
Irin nodded. "That's very good."
The child moved closer and held Irin's hand. "You're leaving?"
"For now," Irin stated, bending down and running his hand through the child's hair. "But maybe one day I'll come back to visit you when it's safe."
The boy smiled at him. "I'll be grown by then."
Irin smiled back. "Sure, you definitely will."
The woman looked at the door. "You have to go now."
Irin stood up and gave a small bow.
"Thank you," he said again.
He then hurried out to the back of the building and discovered a waiting, empty carriage hitched to a restless horse. He climbed aboard and took charge of the reins.
"Easy," he murmured, clicking his tongue. He then steered the horse in the direction the woman had earlier directed him. Soon, he was out of Campton.
Minutes later, the Church doors burst open.
The High Priest re-entered the church with his disciples walking behind him.
"Bring him out," he snapped. "It's time."
The disciples stared in disbelief at the sight before them. They had bound Irin tightly to the chair, but the chair was now empty, and the ropes lay loosely on the floor.
When the high priest realized what had happened, he turned to his disciples and pointed at the door.
"HUNT HIM Down!" he screeched, ordering his disciples. "SEARCH THE ROADS! SEARCH EVERYWHERE! BRING HIM BACK TO ME!!"
Irin rode and didn't look back. Upon arriving at the train station, he found out his hands had gone numb because of the ride, and his body was exhausted.
A few travelers stood outside, awaiting the train's arrival. After tying the horse to a stand, he walked into a small house at the station.
People were already queued outside the ticket booth, waiting to buy their train tickets. Irin joined the queue, keeping his head low to avoid suspicion.
When his turn came, he walked to the counter.
The clerk smiled at him.
"Where are you traveling to, mister?" She inquired.
"Umm…," Irin stammered, unsure of what to say.
The signboard above the clerk's counter displayed a list of cities where the train would stop, and Irin's gaze landed on the second name.
"N-Nikara," Irin blurted.
She nodded at him politely. "It will cost six coppers."
He counted quickly and slid the coins across the counter.
She handed him a ticket. "Safe travels to Nikara, the second most populous city in Tajara."
"Thank you," Irin said softly.
He turned only to spot one of the high priest's disciples in a white cloak and three others searching the crowd.
"They tailed me so quickly? Irin thought.
Irin lowered his head and swiftly returned to the clerk.
"Excuse me. Please, where is the restroom? I'd like to ease myself."
"It's the door on your right," the clerk pointed towards a door near Irin.
"Thank you once again," Irin said and dashed into the restroom.
He changed into the extra clothing and footwear the woman gave him with haste. He then examined his reflection in the mirror on the wall and saw that he was still quite recognizable.
A man grumbled as he entered the restroom to take a piss.
"Damn it! I'm two coppers short of getting a train ticket."
Irin looked at the man with a quick turn. Suddenly, he had an idea.
"I'll buy your hat," Irin said. "For two coppers."
After observing Irin for a period, the man's face relaxed with relief.
"Not like I needed the hat. We have a deal."
The man sold his hat to complete his traveling fare.
Irin gave him money, took the hat, and placed it on his head. He fiddled with his hat until he was happy with his appearance.
He resembled a young nobleman on a business trip.
After leaving the restroom, Irin moved through the crowd with confidence. Some people greeted him as he passed by, and this made him smile inwardly.
He almost made it to the waiting area when he walked past a disciple.
"Hey, stop there. Sorry, I want to verify your identity. I'm looking for someone." The disciple spoke behind Irin.
"I see," Irin replied without turning back.
"Are you sure you want to delay a business manager going on an important trip?"
The disciple's face went pale.
"Should I fail to secure this deal," Irin continued, still without looking back, "you'll have to either compensate me or become my indentured servant forever. The choice is yours."
The disciple quickly fell to his knees. "I apologize for my rude behavior. Please forgive me, mister."
"Hmmm. Watch your manners next time," Irin said and walked away.
A moment later, the train arrived at the station. Once Irin boarded the train, his mind became calm.
"To Nikara," Irin smiled.