For Kjerag, faith is its very soul.
Unlike other nations on this land that may believe in gods yet fail to truly revere them, Kjerag was genuinely created by Kjeragandr.
This isolated snowbound country, untouched by catastrophes for centuries, owed its existence to the protection of Kjeragandr’s power.
Without it, such a sanctuary could never have endured.
The people’s devotion to Kjeragandr was unwavering, deeply rooted, and not something that could be shaken with a few words.
Even Ernest, from the very beginning, had never intended to deny Kjeragandr or promote any form of atheism.
To him, that would not be progress.
It would be foolishness, ingratitude, a failure to face reality itself.
What he had not expected, however, was that while he had no intention of targeting the Vine-Bead Court, it would fracture from within on its own.
For the people of Kjerag, this was nothing short of a seismic shock.
On one side stood the Karlan Saintess, chosen through countless trials, the embodiment of Kjeragandr’s will, the most revered religious figure in Kjerag, declaring that Kjeragandr had judged Ernest innocent.
On the other stood the Grand Elder of the Vine-Bead Court, a man of immense prestige, who had carefully built his argument, stirring both emotion and public sentiment, now accusing the Saintess of distorting divine will and declaring Ernest guilty.
At this moment, everyone gathered in the Sacred Stone Plaza found themselves asking the same question:
Who should I believe?
To believe the Saintess meant denying everything they had just accepted, denying the words of the Grand Elder whom they had respected since birth, and rejecting the habits and understanding shaped over a lifetime.
It meant forcing themselves to accept and comprehend the unfamiliar ideas Ernest had introduced.
That was no easy task.
But to believe the Grand Elder posed an even greater problem.
It meant rejecting the Saintess, denying a far older tradition, and dismissing the chosen representative of Kjeragandr’s will.
It meant accepting that a secular leader who could not directly commune with the divine held greater authority than the Saintess in interpreting Kjeragandr’s will.
And if one accepted that, then how could they refute Ernest’s claim that his actions did not betray Kjeragandr?
After all, compared to the Grand Elder, Ernest was now the nominal secular leader of Kjerag, and by that logic, should have even greater authority to explain his own actions.
There was no doubt—this was a profound upheaval of belief.
And this time, there seemed to be no single figure capable of uniting everyone under one conclusion.
The Sacred Stone Plaza descended into chaos.
People who once greeted each other daily now clustered into small groups.
At first, they sought out those who shared their views.
Soon, they began trying to persuade others.
Inevitably, the arguments devolved into blunt, personal attacks.
“Ernest is spouting nonsense no one understands, and what he’s doing is clearly selling land.
How can he be innocent?”
“But the Saintess said he’s innocent.
That’s Kjeragandr’s will.
Do you not believe it?”
“The Saintess… the Grand Elder said she got it wrong!
And why are you so quick to defend Ernest?
Did the Silverash family pay you off?”
That’s an insult!
I’m a devout follower of Kjeragandr.
What’s wrong with believing the Saintess?
What about you?
Is the Grand Elder your father?
How dare you side with him and question her?”
“See?
You’re getting worked up!”
“Typical.
Can’t argue, so you just say people are mad.
I’ll shut you up myself!”
As the conflict on and off the platform escalated, words began to give way to disorder.
And at that moment, Enciodes finally saw the perfect opportunity.
He rose to his feet, ignoring the questioning looks from Ratatos and Arctosz, and gave his command to the Black Knight Degenbrecher.
“There’s unrest at the Sacred Stone Plaza.
The trial is suspended.
To prevent casualties, Degenbrecher, mobilize Karlan Trade’s security forces immediately.
Have them ascend the mountain and assist the Paleroche forces in maintaining order.”
“What?” Arctosz shot to his feet at once, attempting to stop him.
“Enciodes!
What are you trying to do?
Maintaining order is the responsibility of the Paleroche family.
Your men are not to interfere!”
But Degenbrecher acted as though she hadn’t heard him at all.
She raised her right hand in acknowledgment to Enciodes, then swiftly made her way toward the path down the mountain.
Unhurried, Enciodes turned to face Arctosz, a trace of disdain in his eyes.
Even now, Arctosz’s concern was merely to prevent the Silverash family from extending its influence into security operations.
To Enciodes, it was almost laughable in its narrowness.
He sat back down calmly, watching the burly Arctosz approach, and asked in return:
“There are nearly ten thousand people gathered in the Sacred Stone Plaza.
Clan Head Arctosz, if a riot breaks out, can the few guards you’ve brought truly maintain order?”
“This is the Sacred Mountain, before the Sacred Stone itself.
If something goes wrong due to insufficient security, can you bear that responsibility?”
He smiled, adopting the tone of a patient teacher as he tried to persuade him:
We can get here the fastest.
I’m helping you.”
Arctosz’s expression shifted several times before he finally gritted his teeth, let out a cold snort, and returned to his seat.
Watching him leave, Enciodes shook his head faintly.
‘The little bit of power you cling to is nothing more than a trivial accessory in my eyes.’
‘What I want is far beyond something like security control.’
‘I want everything.’
____
Kjerag, at the foot of the Holy Mountain.
Following the predetermined route, Degenbrecher found the hidden Tschäggättä units and their commander, Matterhorn.
“The boss’s orders are in.
Prepare to move.”
After relaying Enciodes’s command, Degenbrecher was about to leave, intending to disguise herself as if she had just returned from Karlan Trade’s outpost and re-enter the Sacred Stone Plaza alongside the Tschäggättäs.
However, a group of black-clad figures blocked her path.
The Black Knight glanced at the insignia on the arm of the person in front of her.
Her brows furrowed slightly as she asked,
“Blacksteel mercenaries?
What are you doing here?”
“Just completing our mission.”
The leading Vouivre girl replied calmly,
“If you intend to take Ernest Silverash, then I suggest you turn back.”
“Who hired you?” Degenbrecher asked.
Liskarm shook her head.
“We don’t disclose our employer or mission details.”
Even so, it wasn’t difficult to guess.
In all of Kjerag, there were only two factions with external connections.
One was Enciodes and Karlan Trade.
The other was Ernest and the Kjerag government.
As for an international mercenary organization based in Columbia, the one capable of hiring them was obvious.
“If Magnus Bank is doing this, have they considered the consequences?” Degenbrecher’s tone carried a faint threat before softening into an offer.
“Step aside.
My employer can offer them the same deal.”
Liskarm remained expressionless and shook her head.
“If you want to negotiate, take it up with Magnus Bank.”
“I’m only responsible for completing my mission.”