And somehow, they really did hold back.
Breathe in... breathe out... relax... he's the Holy Son, the Lady's Spokesperson... there must be a reason for this...
Annan could sense emotions, but he couldn't read minds. His dark eyes swept over their faces.
Good, evil, order, chaos—four factions stood together without coming to blows. It was practically a miracle!
But it was too early to celebrate. If he didn't do something soon, these people, each of whom saw the others as heretics, would start fighting on their own.
Bang, bang, bang!
Annan slapped the table. Louise stopped secretly casting her curse; Colette and Rainer lowered their drawn longswords; Mora stopped fading into the shadows; and the Black-Clad Cardinal beneath his billowing black robes stilled, all of them putting away their hostility.
"Quiet! Stop glaring at each other. I called you here for serious business!"
Annan put on his lordly air and pressed down the emotions of all four factions.
"Colette, how are your preparations coming?" Annan asked her first.
"Rainer and I visited quite a few Order Churches in the Southlands. If you're willing to establish a church, I don't think they'll refuse."
"I mean, how many people can you get on our side?"
Rainer said the Order Church had been among the forces hit hardest by the Year of Turmoil, but it had also been among the quickest to regain stability. In other words, it hadn't scattered into a disorganized mess. Annan would have a hard time bringing it under his wing.
"That's fine. We just need to make a start. Don't forget, besides being the Holy Son, I'm also 'the only person who can communicate with the gods.'"
But to get the Order Church to stay, he needed the right opening—something like a divine oracle.
Annan's gaze fell on