A few days later, the Grand Elder's funeral took place inside the partially rebuilt main hall of the Vine-Bear Court. Workers from all three noble houses had pulled emergency night shifts to erect the temporary structure so the citizens could send the old man off with proper dignity.
Although the hall appeared somewhat austere compared to past grand ceremonies, lacking the polished grandeur accorded to previous Grand Elders, it nevertheless demonstrated the genuine respect the nation harbored for the departed leader.
Jeanne and her companions attended the service by invitation. The old man's remains lay peacefully inside a carved wooden casket, surrounded by solemn mourners from every corner of the valley.
The funeral traditions of Kjerag were simple and dignified: after the assembly offered their final respects, the body would be cremated, and the Saintess would personally scatter his ashes from the peak of the sacred mountain into the howling wind, symbolizing the soul's return to Kjeragandr's side.
"Our deepest condolences," Jeanne said softly as the crowds gradually dispersed. She and her companions lingered behind, walking up to Enya to greet her. "How have things been holding up on your end?"
Seeing Jeanne and the others approach, Enya managed a gentle, welcoming smile. Yet the faint fatigue etched between her brows betrayed just how much exhausting administrative work she had shouldered over the past few days.
"Reasonably well," Enya replied smoothly. "Once everyone sat down at the negotiating table, each leader had clear responsibilities assigned to them. Everyone has been working around the clock. It's just Arctosz who..." She trailed off with a helpless, wry chuckle.
"What about him? Did the old bear try to back out of his word?" Jeanne asked, her eyes lighting up with playful curiosity.
"Oh, nothing like that," Enya sighed, shaking her head. "It's just that his method of persuading stubborn traditionalists is... entirely too crude. He simply walks up to their front doors, slams his battleaxe onto their tables, and asks if they're ready to listen to reason."
Enya recalled the stream of conservative nobles who had rushed to her complaining about the chief's heavy-handed tactics. While she harbored little sympathy for those obstructionists, Arctosz's methods were certainly unrefined.
"Unconventional problems require forceful solutions," the Doctor chimed in with an amused grin. "Knowing Arctosz, he probably figured it was the fastest way to make those stubborn old heads see sense. Rough, but undeniably effective."
"And what about you?" Jeanne turned to Enya. "It looks like the Vine-Bear Court is entirely under your direction now. How does it feel holding the reins of power?"
It was no longer a secret that authority over the Vine-Bear Court had transitioned to the Saintess. The Grand Elder had explicitly drafted a last testament prior to his passing, settling the administrative transfer without any political friction.
Jeanne had read the document herself; it was surprisingly moving. The old man wrote candidly of his late-life realization that his past paranoia had led him to over-police the Saintess, expressing deep regret for mistrusting her vision.
"No one actively opposes me," Enya admitted with a soft sigh. "But stepping into this role made me realize one thing—taking up this mantle is far heavier than it looks from the outside."
She offered a faint, tired smile as she recalled the mountain of paperwork that had buried her desk over the past seventy-two hours. Carrying the weight of the old leader's legacy made her appreciate just how much strain he had endured over the decades.
"Thankfully, I have good people supporting me now," Enya continued, her voice brightening. "I am confident we can guide Kjerag toward a brighter future. Though... we will certainly rely on your assistance down the road."
Enya offered a subtle wink. Since Kjerag's step onto the continental stage was now inevitable, choosing where to establish their initial diplomatic and commercial footholds was the next crucial step.
"Which nation do you plan to reach out to first?" the Doctor asked, instantly intrigued.
"Primarily Victoria," Enya explained. "My brother... Enciodes built an extensive network of commercial connections over there during his youth, and he has generously placed those resources at the nation's disposal."
She paused, looking directly at Jeanne and the Doctor. "Beyond that... I wonder if your nomadic city, and that medical company called Rhodes Island, would be interested in forming a partnership? I believe we have vast potential for mutual cooperation."
"Commercial negotiations are outside my direct domain," Jeanne replied with a cheerful wave of her hand. "If you wish to discuss trade frameworks, you're welcome to send a delegation directly to Chernobog. Besides, it's not as though your people have zero familiarity with our city's exports."
Jeanne was thinking of those portable Originium hand-warmers she had seen in the local market. Since Chernobog-manufactured goods were already lining local shop shelves, a foundational trade connection clearly existed.
"We cannot rely solely on Enciodes's private network," Enya added, her tone turning practical. "If we do, we'll find ourselves in the same passive position whenever another crisis arises. Even if he handed over his Tschäggättä squad today, his nature is such that he'd simply raise a second force in secret tomorrow."
Her exasperated tone made her deep familiarity with her brother's relentless, scheming nature abundantly clear.
"Then here's to a fruitful partnership!" Jeanne and Alina nodded in agreement. "When your trade envoys reach Chernobog, we'll personally welcome them."
Though Kjerag lay a considerable distance from Chernobog, establishing trade with the snowbound realm was a highly lucrative prospect—especially given the nation's untapped mineral wealth.
Kjerag's mountain ranges harbored rich, high-grade mineral deposits, concentrated primarily within the Silverash Clan territories. However, past exploitation had been severely hindered by a lack of manpower; the Silverash lands accounted for only twenty percent of Kjerag's total population, leaving them critically short-staffed to run mines, factories, and transport hubs simultaneously.
Even so, those mineral deposits were the lifeblood of the Silverash family's industrial dominance, supplying the raw materials for their manufacturing plants and advanced weaponry.
"Now that Arctosz has opened up his borders and relaxed worker movement, laborers will flood into the mining districts," the Doctor noted chucklingly. "I suspect Chief Arctosz might blow his top again when he realizes how many of his people move over to become factory workers."
"Is everything truly settled, though?" Jeanne asked curiously, watching Enya's calm demeanor. "It feels as though you've completely forgiven the whole coup incident. Are you really not going to hold Enciodes accountable for what happened?"
Jeanne found the snowland people's forgiving nature remarkable. To move past a near-civil war so quickly, and even grant him approval for expanded mineral extraction, seemed almost overly generous.
"The mining district no longer belongs exclusively to the Silverash family," Enya clarified with a clever smile. "Ownership and administrative oversight of the primary mineral reserves have been officially transferred to the Vine-Bear Court. Consider that his formal penalty."
Jeanne blinked in surprise. It turned out that while they had been casually touring the town over the past few days, the leaders had quietly executed a massive redistribution of national assets. Their administrative efficiency was astonishing.
"I suspect that the next time we visit this land, we will behold a completely transformed Kjerag," the Doctor remarked as they bade farewell to Enya and stepped out into the crisp mountain air, watching snow dust the stone courtyard.
"Rather than worrying about Kjerag's future, you ought to start preparing your defense for Kal'tsit," Jeanne teased, giving the Doctor a side-eye. "If she finds out about your reckless antics during this trip, your schedule next week is going to be exceptionally painful."
Jeanne thoroughly enjoyed watching the chaotic dynamic between the two, though she knew they were far too accustomed to each other's antics for her to intervene.
"Yikes, Kal'tsit!" the Doctor gasped, clutching her head as reality crashed down. "Blaze definitely filed a full report on the combat situation! When we get back to the landship, that old hag is going to tear me apart!"
"Old hag?"
Catching the key phrase, Jeanne's eyes glinted with mischievous delight. She quietly slipped her Terminal out of her pocket, tapping the screen.
"Well, isn't she?!" the Doctor ranted, oblivious to Jeanne's subtle movements. "She's lived for goodness knows how many centuries—if that's not an old hag, what is? Always picking on a young, fragile mind like mine... Proof that the older people get, the meaner they become..."
"—Proof that the older people get, the meaner they become..."
The Doctor's own voice echoed crisply from Jeanne's Terminal speaker.
The Doctor froze mid-sentence, staring in utter horror as Jeanne offered her a utterly innocent, angelic smile.
"What in the pre-civilization blazes?!" the Doctor shrieked, lunging forward. "Why on earth did you record that?! Delete it right now! If Kal'tsit hears that audio clip, I won't just get a lecture—she'll dissect me!"
She scrambled wildly to snatch the Terminal from Jeanne's grasp. If that recording reached Kal'tsit's desk, the consequences would be catastrophic.
In the Doctor's opinion, Kal'tsit's patience was about as short as her tail—nonexistent unless you looked really, really hard.
"Those were your own words! I'm just eager to see Kal'tsit's reaction," Jeanne laughed, holding the Terminal high out of reach as the two tumbled down the stone steps like bickering children.
"Jeanne, stop teasing her. We have company," Alina said gently, tapping Jeanne's shoulder and pointing ahead.
Degenbrecher stood at the base of the mountain path, wrapped in a heavy coat, clearly having waited for them for some time.
"It has been a while," Degenbrecher said neutrally, bowing slightly. "Master Enciodes requests the pleasure of your company for a game of chess and a quiet chat."