With the protection of the wind spirit Venti, the group of refugees traveled much faster, reaching the area near Starsnatch Cliff.
The environment here was already different from the snowfields they had trekked through before.
To the east, the proximity to the sea brought a relatively warm and humid monsoon. Though the temperature was still not high, the wind was no longer biting, the sky was much clearer, and the snow on the ground had thinned, revealing some cold-resistant moss clinging to the rocks.
After trekking for several days, with everyone supporting and meticulously caring for one another, not a single person in this massive group had fallen behind or been lost.
When the camp was initially set up and the bonfires were lit once more, a joy akin to surviving a catastrophe filled the air.
People's faces showed exhaustion, but more so the reassurance of having settled down and their hopes for the future.
At the top of a newly erected tent pole, Coppelia found Venti and looked up to ask, "Venti, can you help me find a 'bird's feather'?"
The wind spirit floated down lightly, circling her once. "That's not difficult. Do you like these light, fluttery things too?"
"Not entirely," Coppelia's voice was steady. "Inside the storm wall, there is a young bard. He has never seen a true blue sky, nor has he ever seen a flying bird. If you can imagine all the 'light, fluttery' things you love suddenly disappearing from your world... perhaps then you can understand how much he yearns to see a real feather."
Venti shivered as if frightened, even retracting his glowing wings a little. "...How pitiful."
While wandering in the west before, it had seen that giant sphere of wind embedded in the ground.
It had once tried to approach the endlessly spinning barrier but was injured by the chaotic and violent Anemo energy.
After that, it had always stayed far away from there.
These past few days, after hearing countless stories from the refugees, it had come to understand that the wind sphere was the creation of the lone king of the tower, Decarabian, and it also had a general idea of what an oppressive and closed-off world it was within the storm wall.
At first, it didn't fully understand why the people inside the wall were so obsessed with "freedom." Not until Gunnhildr enlightened it with a simple analogy:
"That storm wall is like a giant cage that you can never fly out of, no matter what. And outside the cage, everywhere, are all sorts of your favorite 'light, fluttery' things..."
Venti fell silent, its light seeming to dim for a moment. It said in a small voice, "I understand... A life like that is too terrible."
At this moment, hearing Coppelia's request and thinking of the young boy who had never seen a bird, a strong impulse rose in its heart.
It had to help! It had to find a bird's feather for him, and it had to be the feather of the highest-soaring falcon!
Having safely escorted the refugees to this relatively stable land, its current mission was complete.
Venti delayed no longer. It flew before Gunnhildr and Coppelia, and after bidding them farewell, transformed into a streak of cyan light, speeding toward the sky in search of soaring birds.
Coppelia remembered that on the way, she had glimpsed a stream that was not completely frozen over, and the clear water at the bottom seemed to hold some uniquely colored stones.
"Let's go," she said to Columbina. "Let's go check out that river. We can find some pretty 'gems' as gifts for the children inside the storm wall."
...
The messenger sent to negotiate with the Lawrence Clan brought back news.
They had invited Gunnhildr to their temple to discuss the settlement of the refugees and the allocation of land.
Gunnhildr did not bring a large retinue, choosing only Parsifal and two other steady knights as her escort.
The four of them followed the Lawrence Clan's guide to the building known as the temple.
The temple's overall structure was a massive circle. In the center was a plaza paved with stone slabs, surrounded by three concentric rings of huge stone pillars. An outer ring, a circular viewing platform, enclosed the central plaza.
At this moment, several core nobles of the Lawrence Clan were seated indistinctly on the viewing platform, looking down upon the central area from their high perch.
The guide led Gunnhildr and her three companions to the central plaza and then retreated to the edge.
Almost at the very moment they came to a stop, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from all around.
The Lawrence Clan knights, who had long been waiting in formation in the shadows of the pillars, closed in with synchronized steps. They were clad in uniform armor, holding long spears or sharp swords. Though their weapons were not drawn, they formed a metal wall, trapping Gunnhildr and her three companions in the center.
The cold glint of metal and the perfectly uniform steps carried an intangible pressure.
Gunnhildr quickly scanned her surroundings, noticing that the nobles on the viewing platform remained seated calmly, while in the center of the plaza, not even the simplest of chairs had been prepared for her.
They did not come with good intentions.
Gunnhildr's gaze sharpened, her heart already clear on the nature of this negotiation. The Lawrence Clan seemed more intent on holding a one-sided trial.
But she showed no trace of panic. Instead, she straightened her spine even more, standing with perfect posture in the center of the plaza, looking up at the nobles above with a calm and untroubled gaze.
She got straight to the point, her clear voice echoing within the circular temple, piercing through the deliberately crafted, somber atmosphere:
"On what terms is the Lawrence Clan prepared to accept my people?"
On the viewing platform, a noble with a stern face looked down at her: "Very simple. All the knights in your group will be integrated into our Lawrence Clan's knightly order and will obey unified command. As for those commoners with no combat ability... they must sign a contract to serve the Lawrence Clan as servants." He paused, his voice rising a few notches, "This is a divine oracle from the 'Master of Time,' which has dictated your place."
Gunnhildr's expression did not change in the slightest, as if she had just heard an ordinary proposal.
"Since it is the will of a god," her voice remained steady, "we are naturally willing to comply."
The nobles on the high platform exchanged glances. One of them even had a smirk of triumph on his lips, seemingly thinking this young leader was far too easy to handle.
However, Gunnhildr was not finished speaking.
"However," her tone shifted abruptly, her gaze fixed on the noble who had spoken, "before that, I need to personally confirm the authenticity of this 'divine oracle.' Could I trouble you to summon the 'Master of Time,' so that I, and all the people behind me who await divine guidance, may hear Their will with our own ears?"
The noble's face changed slightly, and he snapped sharply, "Absurd! The deity is supreme. How could outsiders like you be granted an audience just because you wish it?"
"Without an audience to personally present our piety, how can we prove the sincerity with which we have traveled a thousand li to seek refuge with you?" Gunnhildr pressed forward instead of retreating. "I imagine that any benevolent god would not refuse a group of pious followers a humble wish for an audience, would they?" She gave him no chance to rebut, her pace quickening and her voice suddenly turning sharp. "Unless... they are a tyrant like Decarabian, who isolates the inside from the outside and shows indifference to his people!"
___
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