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When Irexana and the Holy Iron Inquisitors reached the border where the two armies faced off, the people who had been locked in a tense standoff couldn’t do much other than fall silent.
They weren’t a thousand. They weren’t even a hundred. Compared to Ferma’s army of ten thousand cavalry made of elite soldiers gathered from border territories, trained and refined over decades, they seemed almost meager.
And yet, neither side’s commanders dared to claim superiority. Adela grinned as she spotted three figures approaching.
“Oh! They sent three of you! Anna and the bald one, too!”
The colors of their mozetta—the short shoulder capes fluttering at their necks—were red. They were Cardinals, the Holy Church’s greatest power. There were only ten of them in total, and nearly half of them were now gathered in Portroi.
Led by Irexana, the three Cardinals greeted her. Irexana bowed politely first. Anna, with her warm demeanor, pulled Adela into a hug, while the last of the three—Cardinal Dominic—smirked, curling his lip.
“It’s been a while, Cardinal Adela,” Irexana said first.
“It’s good to see you again, Adela! It’s been, what, ten years?” Anna followed with a cheerful smile.
“You’re still as mini as ever, Adela,” Dominic also joined in with...
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