678
A wind tinged with the scent of blood suddenly swept into a dilapidated house in the East Borough, leaving a bat avatar behind when it departed.
About ten minutes later, the Mandated Punisher and the Senior Deacon caught up. The former kicked open the house's door, nearly bringing down its mud walls along with it. A bolt of lightning shattered the little bat avatar hiding in a corner. The Senior Deacon surveyed the interior, then looked toward the faintly flickering red moonlight in the distance and shook his head.
"We can't catch him. A Sanguine Viscount moves too quickly. As long as he's willing to expend spirituality to teleport frequently, we have absolutely no chance of catching up."
He pulled his collar higher and said thoughtfully,
"Still, we've updated our intelligence on the Sanguine. We now know they can create a full-moon environment, and all their abilities are greatly enhanced within it. Once this mission to make an example of them is over, there should be far fewer cultists in Backlund. We need only await the Church's next orders."
The Mandated Punisher snorted discontentedly, deeply displeased with the mission's failure.
"Fine! It wasn't a complete failure! At least the cultists worshiping the earth are gone. With this warning, there'll be far fewer rats trafficking people across the border and smuggling them overseas in the name of Feynapotter and the Church of the Earth Mother for a while!" he said indignantly. "We brought so many people, and the most important target, that Sequence 5, still escaped! I reckon we'll all be spending time in the confessional when we get back!"
The Senior Deacon kept his eyes lowered, letting the other man's words go in one ear and out the other.
Under the circumstances, they really could only abandon the mission.