Vine-Bead Court, Hall of Elders.
When Enya stormed into the Grand Elder’s office, fury written all over her face, the old man was calmly sipping tea.
Seeing the Saintess in such a state, he leisurely set down his cup and asked with mild curiosity:
“Saintess, what has happened?”
Enya drew a deep breath, forcing down her anger as she demanded:
“Something has happened to Ernest.
Why was I not informed at all?”
“I’m not quite sure what you mean, Saintess,” the Grand Elder replied, feigning confusion.
“What exactly do you mean by ‘something has happened’ to Prime Minister Ernest?”
“He is about to undergo a trial by the sacred stone at the Holy Mountain Plaza.
If he fails, he will be exiled.
Why was I not notified beforehand of something this serious?”
The Grand Elder shook his head, suddenly looking enlightened.
“So… you were unaware of this?”
“No one told me.
How could I possibly know?” Enya let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
“Wasn’t it said that as the Saintess, I have the right to be informed of all matters concerning Kjeragandr?
Does something like a sacred stone trial not count?”
“Oh, it certainly does.” The Grand Elder nodded in agreement, then added, “I’m not saying it doesn’t.
Indeed, you have the right to know.
Perhaps it was simply that the attendants responsible for reporting such matters did not consider it necessary to inform you.”
“But I need to know!” Enya gritted her teeth.
“The one being judged is my brother!”
“But before this matter arose, the servants had no way of knowing it would concern your brother,” the Grand Elder replied calmly.
“They are, after all, simple-minded.
They could not have anticipated that the one to be judged would be the Saintess’s kin.”
“So that’s your excuse for keeping it from me?”
“No, Saintess.
No one concealed anything from you,” he corrected her with righteous composure.
“It’s merely that no one chose to inform you.”
Enya’s lips twitched, barely restraining herself from snapping:
“And what difference does that make?”
“There is a difference,” the Grand Elder said evenly.
“You are the executor of Kjeragandr’s will.
Concealing matters concerning the divine from you would be a grave offense.
However, choosing not to report certain matters is simply a long-standing practice.
You are burdened with countless responsibilities.
You need not concern yourself with everything.”
“But I do need to know everything!” Enya clenched her fists.
“Everything?” the Grand Elder repeated calmly.
Seeing the faint trace of hatred in her eyes, he slowly rose from his reclining chair and walked deeper into the hall.
He returned with a small ledger and began reading aloud:
“Today, the Vine-Bead Court purchased thirty sets of incense…”
“Grand Elder, stop!” Enya finally snapped, cutting him off.
“You know perfectly well what I mean.
I need to know the important matters!”
The Grand Elder lifted his eyelids slightly, looking up at her with a detached gaze.
“I understand.
But who decides what is important?”
The divine will of Kjeragandr, the land He created, and the countless citizens who live upon it… or your wayward brother, who has barely taken office and is already attempting to sell the nation’s land?”
Enya’s anger choked in her throat, as if forcibly sealed.
The Grand Elder set down the ledger, leaned on his cane, and approached her.
Though his body was frail and hunched, the pressure he exuded was that of someone long accustomed to power.
“Saintess,” he said slowly, “from the moment you were chosen to serve Kjeragandr, the name ‘Silverash’ ceased to have anything to do with you.
You would do well to understand that.”
“Ernest’s defiance aside, even your elder brother, Enciodes, would meet the same fate if he dared to cross Kjeragandr’s bottom line, or show disrespect to the Vine-Bead Court.”
“The gods will pass judgment upon them.”
He struck his cane firmly against the ground, like a magistrate delivering sentence, or an executioner raising his blade.
Tears welled up in Enya’s eyes.
Indeed, even she struggled to understand why Ernest would mortgage Kjerag’s land to Columbians, or why Enciodes not only failed to stop him, but even assisted him.
It was an act that clashed with every traditional belief held by the people of Kjerag.
An act society could not accept.
And yet, despite her confusion, she still chose to stand by Ernest.
Perhaps it was trust.
Perhaps indulgence.
Perhaps guilt.
Because it was she who, on Ernest’s very first day in office, handed him the account ledgers preserved by the Vine-Bead Court and voiced her support.
And once spoken, the Saintess would not go back on her word.
She had come to confront the Grand Elder in anger for two reasons.
First, to accuse the Institute of keeping her in the dark.
Second, to force a clear stance from them on this matter.
Now that the Grand Elder, speaking for the Institute, had made their position unmistakably clear, with no room for compromise, Enya saw no point in staying any longer.
Think it over?
Turn back while I still can?
“If I were that kind of person, I wouldn’t have stormed up this mountain back then to take that trial!”
She sniffed, her nose slightly clogged, shot the stone-faced Grand Elder a fierce glare, then turned and ran out.
Just because the Grand Elder would not stand with her did not mean she had no allies left within the Institute.
At the very least, Kjera, the one who had informed her of Ernest’s predicament, was someone she could trust.
“Kjera!”
Throwing open the doors to the Saintess’s chambers, Enya called out.
Inside, Kjera stood by the window, seemingly lost in thought.
Enya’s voice was firmer than ever before.
“The Grand Elder wants Ernest harmed as well!”
Kjera snapped out of her thoughts and looked at her.
“And you?” she asked.
“What do you intend to do?”
“I am the Saintess, am I not?
I represent Kjeragandr, do I not?” Enya replied.
Kjera hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
A resolute smile spread across Enya’s face.
“Then at the sacred stone ceremony, I will declare Ernest innocent in Kjeragandr’s name.”
Kjera froze.
___
“This is a grave crime!”
Gnosis Edelweiss warned sharply.
“Deploying the Tschäggättä to attack the sacred stone ceremony… is this really a plan you came up with, Enciodes Silverash?
Get a grip!” Get faster updates on g.com.
“The Tschäggättä haven’t even completed their training.
We still need Karlan Trade as an intermediary to continue expanding in Kjerag, to grow Turicum and attract more migrants.
For the sake of one Ernest, you’d expose our trump card and risk being expelled from Kjerag… is that really worth it?”
Gnosis’s reasoning was impeccable, as always.
In the past, Enciodes would have accepted such counsel.
But this time, he merely cast him a cold glance before turning away.
“Gnosis, you’d better think carefully about what you just said.
If that’s truly your position, then perhaps I should reconsider whether keeping you in Karlan Trade is ‘worth it’ as well.”
As a member of a family long suspected of murdering the former heads of the Silverash household, the parents of Enciodes and Ernest, Gnosis had never lacked for cold stares, wherever he went.
And it wasn’t only because of his habit of speaking without regard for time or place.
If everything were judged solely by his absolute rationality, then the one sitting beside Enciodes offering counsel today would never have been Gnosis Edelweiss.
Time and again, Enciodes had stood against all opposition to keep him.
This time, however, the one being overruled had become himself.
“Guards, escort Mr.
Gnosis home.
He is suspended and no longer authorized to participate in high-level company meetings.”
Ignoring Gnosis’s attempt to speak further, Enciodes waved a hand.
Two tall guards stepped forward, one on each side, and effortlessly carried him out of the room despite the clear disparity in strength.
With the unexpected troublemaker dealt with, Enciodes turned his attention back to the others present at the meeting.
There was Matterhorn, with his bronze skin and square jaw, the very image of a sturdy strongman.
Beside him stood Courier Weiss, also tanned but carrying himself more like an easygoing messenger than a stern bodyguard.
And finally, Enciodes’s other trump card, a triple crown consecutive champion knight hired at great expense from Kazimierz—the Black Knight, Degenbrecher.
Aside from Gnosis, who had just been dragged out for the ill-timed mistake of questioning his employer, nearly all of Enciodes’s trusted subordinates were now gathered here.
Their objective was simple.
“To command the not-yet-fully-trained Tschäggättä, surround the Sacred Stone Plaza, and extract Ernest.”
“Put more plainly… we’re staging a jailbreak.”
Enciodes spoke calmly, his gaze sweeping across the three of them.
“Who has the confidence to carry this out?”
“I’ll handle reconnaissance and map out both their defenses and our escape routes,” Courier Weiss answered immediately.
“I’ll take command of the Tschäggättä and deal with the Paleroche forces.
I won’t let a single one of them reinforce the plaza,” Matterhorn Yak replied with steady assurance.
At last, Enciodes turned to the Black Knight.
The blonde knight in her black suit smiled faintly.
“I didn’t expect my first assignment after being hired would be something like this.”
Her expression sharpened as she made a solemn vow.
“I’ll enter the Sacred Stone Plaza and extract Mr.
Ernest.
Rest assured, he will stand before you unharmed.
You have my name on it.”
Enciodes nodded.
It was earlier than he had planned, and their preparations were far from complete.
But the arrow was already nocked.
There was no turning back now.
Ernest… I’m staking a great deal to pull you out of this.
Don’t disappoint me.
Consider this my investment in you.