"You fool. You'll regret this, Theresia," Regulus said. His voice was calm—but it carried a weight that chilled the room.
"This is exactly what the Lord of Calamity wants! To weaken us… and then strike when we're vulnerable."
Silence fell. No one dared look one another in the eye. Both Saints made compelling points—but the Church lacked the strength to act on both fronts.
Theresia's voice sliced through the stillness, sharp and unwavering. "Regulus, do you want us—the holy people—to perish?"
Regulus frowned, surprised by her tone. "What are you saying?"
"You know just as well as I do that many of our soldiers are sick. Do you want to send them into battle and spread this plague even further?" she pressed, stepping forward, the tied strands of her golden hair swaying behind her.
Regulus said nothing. He didn't need to. She was right.
