The bitter wind and heavy snow continued their relentless assault until noon, when figures clad in iron armor—resembling the legendary Tschäggättä—finally appeared on the high ridges far beyond the settlement. At the sight of the approaching host, the combined loyalist forces immediately raised their weapons, bracing for combat.
Upon receiving the report, Saintess Enya, accompanied by Jeanne, the Doctor, and Arctosz, rushed to the forward barricades. Seeing the imposing Tschäggättä squad advancing in disciplined formation, their hearts sank in unison.
The scene made the outcome all too clear: Enciodes had ultimately chosen the path of blood and steel to bring this crisis to a bitter, far-from-perfect conclusion.
The defenders watched with heavy, conflicted feelings as Enciodes came to a halt on the snow-covered slope opposite them, gazing back across the divide. Neither side uttered a word; a suffocating silence settled over the frozen valley.
It was in that tense quiet that Sciurus spotted her sister, Ratatos, standing directly beside Enciodes. Sciurus opened her mouth to call out, but Ratatos caught her eye from afar and gave a subtle, warning shake of her head.
"What is it?" Enciodes remarked, glancing sideways at Ratatos with an unreadable tone. "Are you worried I might use you as a hostage to force the defenders into surrendering?"
Ratatos offered no answer. She tore her eyes away from her younger sister and fixed them instead upon the two Silverash sisters standing near the front lines.
"You would do better to look across the way," Ratatos said, a faint trace of mockery in her voice. "Both of your own sisters are standing against you. I am genuinely curious—how does it feel to see your own family turn their back on your grand ambition?"
Though she had been taken captive herself, at least her own household wasn't torn apart by internal rebellion. When she moved to act, she never had to face her own bloodline on the battlefield.
It was indeed a tragic reality. In his pursuit of Kjerag's future, not a single member of Enciodes's immediate family supported him; instead, they stood at the head of his opposition. The realization cast a darker shadow over his heart.
"They are standing remarkably close to the front," Ratatos added softly, almost as if trying to provoke him. "A pair of skilled marksmen could hit them from here without much trouble. Why not strike first and secure your triumph?"
She seemed to be coaxing him to draw his own sisters' blood, her mocking expression hinting at a bitter desire to see the Silverash house tear itself to pieces.
Yet Enciodes offered no reply. He merely cast a cold glance at the Zalak chief beside him, remaining silent as he stared across the snowfield.
"Are we... just going to stand here and stare at each other all day?" Arctosz grumbled in a low growl after a long while.
The old bear was no longer in his youth. After a long day of maneuvering and fighting, he could feel his physical strength rapidly ebbing. If this standoff dragged on much longer, he worried he wouldn't even have the energy left to swing his battleaxe.
The wound on his broad shoulder throbbed with a persistent ache. As the freezing mountain wind bit through his heavy cloak, the feeling of his vitality draining away eroded what little patience he possessed.
"Chief, perhaps you should rest for a moment," Ensia suggested softly, looking at the dark stain bleeding through his bandages. "Standing at the barricades with us like this won't help your body."
"Nonsense, little girl!" Arctosz scoffed with a rough chuckle, though his voice lacked its usual thunder. "In a crisis like this, as one of the primary leaders of this realm, there is zero chance I step down from the front lines. If I retreat to sit by a warm stove, the eyes of these warriors will change instantly!"
Had an adult spoken those words, he would have barked at them for questioning his resolve. But coming from Ensia, he merely took it as well-meaning concern.
"Her words may sound naive, but you really should find something to lean on," Sciurus chimed in, turning back toward him. "I'm worried that if this drags out another hour, you won't even have the strength left to charge... Wait, Sister?!"
Before Sciurus could finish her sentence, her eyes widened in shock as she spotted Ratatos walking calmly across the open snow toward the loyalist barricades.
Enciodes had simply released her!
"Sister! Are you alright?!" Sciurus rushed forward, reaching out to grab her.
"Hold yourself with some dignity!" Ratatos reprimanded swiftly, catching Sciurus by the shoulder. "Losing your composure in front of so many warriors brings shame upon the Browntail Clan!"
Though the sharp scolding was classic Ratatos, to Sciurus's ears, it had never sounded sweeter.
"That fellow just let you walk back?" Arctosz asked in disbelief, unable to tell whether Enciodes was supremely confident in his military overwhelming strength or harbored some ulterior motive.
"He wishes to hold a parley with the leadership," Ratatos explained, her expression serious. "Specifically with you, Arctosz, and Her Holiness the Saintess. He proposes a meeting in the open area between our two armies. He needs to confirm certain terms before deciding whether to order the final assault."
Even Ratatos found herself struggling to comprehend why Enciodes had chosen this path at the eleventh hour. Yet her sharp instincts told her that this meeting would be paramount to the nation's survival.
Silence fell over the small group of leaders. They weighed the invitation with deep skepticism—should they accept the parley, or was it a trap meant to break their resolve before a brutal clash?
After a long period of tense deliberation, they placed the ultimate decision in the hands of Saintess Enya. After a moment of quiet reflection, Enya nodded her assent.
Before stepping out, however, they designated temporary commanders to hold the barricades in their stead. Should anything go awry during the talks, those commanders were ordered to disregard the leaders' personal safety and focus entirely on preserving the forces of Kjerag.
Moments later, Enya, Arctosz, and Ratatos walked out into the middle of the snowy field, accompanied by a small contingent of personal guards.
Enciodes was already waiting there. His setup was even more sparse than theirs; he stood in the snow with only Courier at his side, who had brought along a few wooden chairs. There were no heavy shield-walls or archers guarding their flank.
"So you came," Enciodes said quietly as they approached.
"Hmph. You certainly carry yourself with immense confidence," Arctosz snorted, glaring at him with heavy disdain. "Are you not afraid we might simply seize you right here and force your troops to surrender? You have no declared heir waiting in the wings."
The old chief found Enciodes's calm demeanor deeply irritating given the blood that had almost spilled, but out of respect for Enya's decision, he refrained from picking a fight, swallowing his anger as he took a seat.
"We are here, Enciodes," Enya said smoothly, her posture calm and dignified as she sat down across from her brother. "If you have terms to speak, say them now."
"I spent the past hour reconsidering your earlier proposal," Enciodes replied, looking his sister in the eye. "I found a degree of merit in your words, so I decided it was worth sitting down to discuss a resolution properly. I am not a man who hungers for war for its own sake."
"Hmph!" Arctosz spat into the snow, clearly not buying a single word of his peaceful claims.
"What reason would I have to deceive you at this stage?" Enciodes countered, turning his sharp gaze onto the Paleroches chief. "If my sole intention were not the preservation and advancement of this realm, I would never have pushed matters to this brink. The responsibility for this crisis rests on my shoulders, yes—but a portion of the blame lies squarely on your stubborn refusal to adapt, Arctosz. You had best compose yourself, or this dialogue will serve no purpose."
His stern rebuttal forced Arctosz into a sulky silence. Though the old bear still glared at him as if he wanted to tear him apart, he kept his mouth shut.
"Speak your mind," Enya said evenly, completely unbothered by the tension between the two men.
"I require a definitive framework that satisfies all parties—not another round of endless squabbling and finger-pointing like our old council meetings," Enciodes stated firmly. "We must establish a concrete plan for how Kjerag will develop its lands and interact with the outside world."
He leaned forward, his tone ironclad. "One way or another, I will see Kjerag step out onto the continental stage. That is the only path forward for our survival. Even if this attempt fails today, I will simply leave Kjerag and wait for the next opportunity."
"And as I have stated, the Paleroches Clan can accept the broad strokes of your reform!" Arctosz barked back, leaning into the table. "However, you cannot trample over Kjerag's sacred traditions! They are the very foundation of our identity, and they are non-negotiable!"
"The Browntail Clan holds the same stance," Ratatos added smoothly, entering the negotiation. "We can open our borders to foreign trade and interaction, but the core faith of our people must be preserved. Advanced industry and spiritual faith are not mutually exclusive. Look at Lady Jeanne's homeland—is it not a prosperous realm that retains its deep faith?"
The debate quickly turned fierce as the leaders hammered out their red lines. Yet throughout the heated exchange, Enya sat quietly at the center of the table, her expression serene.
To the thousands of soldiers watching from both sides of the snowfield, it appeared as though their leaders were engaged in an intense argument. The troops exchanged baffled glances, unable to comprehend what strange game was being played in the middle of the field.
None of the warriors realized that the outcome of this loud, sharp debate would dictate whether Kjerag enjoyed peaceful stability for the coming years—or burned in civil strife.
"We can agree to allow the tears of the goddess to be exported as commercial goods," Arctosz growled, coming to the most sensitive topic of all. "However, I will never permit you to use heavy industrial machinery to strip-mine the sacred peaks! They must be gathered strictly according to traditional methods! At most... I will allow small teams to gather them together."
Having reached the absolute core of his traditionalist values, the old chief held his ground with uncompromising resolve.
Enciodes didn't hesitate for a single second. "Agreed."
Such a minor procedural compromise was negligible in the grand scope of his economic vision.
Seeing that a firm consensus had been reached, Enya let a soft, genuine smile touch her lips.
"In that case... it is time we discuss how to bring this entire affair to a proper end."