"Then what about the Pope's Throne?" an old woman who had been silent, her face grim, suddenly spoke. Her voice was sharp and shrill. "He is the supreme leader in name, after all. And… it seems he harbors some undue sympathy for certain of Fuer II's ideals."
Ambrosius let out an unconcealed, cold laugh. "Let him fight it out in the Half-Plane with those Wizards, and with all the fiends and demons hiding in the shadows. Isn't that what we've been painstakingly planning for all these years? Since he's so intent on following Juliano's—oh, Fuer II's—path of 'mercy,' then let him walk it. Let him use his 'orthodoxy' and 'benevolence' to draw their fire, to wear down our opponents. And we…" He scanned the room. "…will reap the final rewards."
