"Your Holiness, may I inquire as to the purpose of this unexpected gathering?" asked one of the esteemed members seated at the table.
Pope Alaric's gentle smile, which had been carefully maintained until this point, morphed into a malicious grin within moments. This was his true face, a visage so far removed from the saintly demeanor he presented to the public. If the common people, who revered him like a god, ever caught a glimpse of this dark countenance, they would undoubtedly be struck with disbelief, perhaps even terror.
"We've arrived at a pivotal juncture, my dear council," Pope Alaric began, the earnestness in his voice a stark contrast to the wicked smile he had just displayed. "We've successfully diverted all culpability onto the Istarin Empire, tarnishing their reputation while bolstering our own. The next step in our master plan involves finding a suitable candidate to ascend to the throne and finally quell this turbulent civil war."
