"It wouldn't have mattered, even if they were men who believed strongly enough to walk across a bed of coals, or generous enough to give all of their worldly wealth to the Church," Heila said, shaking her head at the clergymen from the Church.
"Your miracles aren't miracles," Heila said flatly. "You aren't 'conduits for the will of the Holy Lord of Light to flow through,'" she said, repeating an explanation that Ignatious had given her for how the Church was able to harness the power of sorcery without understanding it. "Your prayers and rituals are simple sorcery. The power you use has always come from your own bodies."
"Blasphemy!" Germot said, rising to his feet and pointing at Heila with trembling hands that could barely support the weight of the chains that bound him. "Complete and utter- OOF!"
