The hall was grand and imposing, every inch of it designed to reflect prestige and authority.
Tall, arched windows lined the walls, allowing streams of pale light to pour in, illuminating the polished marble floor that gleamed beneath the feet of everyone in attendance. Massive chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their crystals shimmering as they caught the light, casting a soft glow over the long table…
… Where the Bishops sat.
The table itself was made of dark, richly stained wood, stretching nearly the length of the hall. Seated around it were the Bishops, their robes a mix of deep reds and purples, while lined with golden fabric.
Comparing this place to the Heresy Cult's conference room was like placing gold beside filth.
The two were incomparable—worlds apart.
Each of the Bishops sat with a posture of quiet authority, though an undercurrent of unease ran through the room. At the head of the table stood a single, larger chair—more spectacular than the rest. Its high back and cushioned seat, though untouched, seemed to command respect by its mere presence.
The chair remained empty, due to the absence of the Archbishop… but that was no surprise to anyone present.
Despite the elegance and beauty of the hall—including the expensive-looking curtains that lined the windows and the luxury carpets laid on the ground—the seriousness of their situation overshadowed it all.
"That concludes my report…"
The youngest in the room spoke, his voice quaking under the scrutinizing gaze of his elders. The five other Bishops had their eyes focused on him, causing him to nearly stutter as he finished speaking.
He felt a wave of relief once it was all over, resting his back on his chair while scrunching his eyes and parting his lips for a little sigh.
After a few seconds of silence in the hall… voices began to emerge.
"Bishop Karl… your actions were a little excessive." The one who spoke first was the oldest—an elder with a wrinkly face and a long, well-trimmed beard.
The others nodded in agreement, offering their own version of his words.
"You were too impulsive."
"Impatient too."
"Just because you became a Bishop due to being exceptional doesn't mean you can just abuse your power like that…"
Karl grit his teeth as he heard the comments of the Bishops, clearly seeing through the fancy coating of their words to see the true meaning behind them.
'These old farts… they are against my appointment as a Bishop!' He growled internally, ensuring none of his rage could be seen on his humbled facade. 'They'll use any chance they have to demean my achievements and point out my flaws.'
This moment was no exception.
Due to the demise of the hundreds of footsoldiers and one Deacon—all of whom were sent to their deaths by Karl—the Bishops now had another card against him.
'I'm sure they'll bring up this matter to the Archbishop once he comes out of seclusion and use it as a case for my demotion…'
He couldn't let that happen!
Swiftly raising his head, he banged his clenched fist on the table and talked to the old fogeys like they were his equals.
"They disrespected us… everything we stand for!" Yelling out of his prime lungs—something none of the elderly bastards in front of him could boast of, he frowned deeply as he cast his gaze on all of them. "Was I supposed to just let them leave?!"
"No, but the forces you sent was too much for—"
"Too much or too little? You all know the Heretic Witch and how formidable she can be. I acted in my best judgment and sent a competent squad—including a Deacon—to take care of the matter… but it seemed even that wasn't enough."
"...."
The Bishops frowned and glanced at each other, speechless.
They all knew that they would have done the same thing Karl did if the roles were reversed, but they chose to harp on his own failures due to how severe the tragedy was.
… Also because they didn't want him as a Bishop.
"It seems you have yet to reflect on your actions and what it has cost us Cathars." The oldest spoke calmly, a glare focused on the young man.
Karl clenched his fist as he reciprocated the gesture.
Of course, he knew just how heavy of a toll the deaths of the few hundred would take on the Cathars as a body. They weren't that large, and their numbers were still somewhat scattered due to their expansion plans.
Removing a few hundred competent fighters from their ranks was a heavy blow, especially since one of them was a Deacon.
They only had ten of those, and now they were down to nine.
"You think I haven't thought about it? Of course, I have!" Karl spoke, his tone reducing drastically. "But sitting here and attributing blame won't solve anything, will it?"
"So… do you have any intention of taking responsibility?"
As the question echoed within the hall, the other Bishops smiled as they looked at him with curious and expectant gazes. Of course, he had to take some measure of accountability for what he had done.
'What they want is for me to voluntarily step down and renounce the position that the Archbishop gave me…' His eyes narrowed. 'That way, they won't escalate the matter and will probably help me to correct this mistake.'
However, Karl was not going to act as they wanted.
He had his own plans.
"I will crush the Heresy Cult myself… and finally kill the Witch who is responsible for all of this."
"Oh?" An overtly mocking tone dripped from the lips of the elders.
"And you're really sure it's the Witch? The Heresy Cult is just a small group anyway, so it doesn't make sense that they would do this."
"What if it is another party and you're just playing into their hands?"
Despite hearing these words of counsel, Karl wasn't deceived for even a second that the Bishops cared about his well-being. They were just trying to plant doubts in his head and make him step down.
'I won't do that!'
"The Deacons confirmed that the Souls of all the fallen are missing—a handiwork of the Witch, no doubt." He responded to their queries, his eyes glowing with conviction.
They fell silent after that.
"Please do not worry yourselves… I will correct my mistakes, and I will do so before the Archbishop returns from his seclusion."
Upon saying this, Karl rose to his feet.
The other Bishops were still silent as they keenly watched his movements. He bowed his head out of obligatory respect, his expression clearly oozing the opposite.
"I will be taking my leave now."
"...."
The Bishops still said nothing as they watched him near the exit, and one—the oldest of them—only spoke once Karl had reached the exit door.
"How many of our followers do you intend to take on this crusade of yours?"
"As many capable ones under my authority." He promptly responded, not hesitating to gather practically every military might he could muster.
All five hundred of them.
"And… you're wrong about one thing." This time, Karl turned to all the Bishops for the final time.
His narrowed eyes burned with passion, and his clenched fists clearly held his fury.
"This is no crusade… and it's not an inquisition, either."
It was one thing and one thing alone.
"This is a slaughter."