The moment the woman known to the outside world as the Black Knight made her presence known, every hostile urge in the hall evaporated into thin air. Every person in the room understood a harsh truth: even if all of them rushed her at once, they weren't guaranteed to survive the encounter.
This former three-time champion of Kazimierz had reportedly been bought by the young man before them while fleeing for her life. In the years following her rescue, she had used sheer martial dominance to teach every faction in Kjerag just how laughable it was to draw a blade against her master.
"If you summoned me here merely to display how terrifying your military might is, then I see no reason to continue this meeting," Enciodes said softly, sweeping his eyes across the three ornate chairs placed at the center of the chamber.
Those seats represented the three ruling bloodlines of Kjerag. The representatives of the other two families had already taken their places.
The leader of the Paleroche family—a house that had long clashed with the Silverashes—was a burly Ursus man with brown hair, looking every bit like the heavily muscled warrior stereotypically associated with his kind.
"This is the sacred hall of the Tri-Clan Council!" Arctosz growled, leaning on his heavy battle-axe as if it were a walking stick. He didn't bother to spare a glance at the young noble sitting across from him, who held equal status in name. "No one draws weapons here unless your brazen arrogance crosses the line of what we can endure!"
Enciodes didn't care in the slightest about the big man's hostility. In fact, if the Ursus warrior had welcomed him with a warm, friendly smile today, Enciodes would have been far more suspicious of his motives.
"So you have no cause to worry that we'll attack you," chimed in the current head of the Browntail family, a young Zalak woman seated opposite Arctosz. She spoke with a playful, teasing cadence, famed for her neutral stance and political dexterity. "Besides, you came prepared anyway, didn't you? Why don't we all sit down? Standing around like this is hardly respectful to Kjeragandr."
Enciodes offered her a brief, silent glance, completely ignoring the subtle mockery in her tone, before unhurriedly taking his seat—the chair reserved for the head of the Silverash family.
"Now then," he began, resting his hands on his cane as he looked at his fellow leaders. "The two of you went to great lengths sending message after message to urge me here, claiming we needed to discuss a few minor issues. You didn't even grant me the time to welcome my honored guests. Perhaps you can explain the exact reason for this urgency to a fellow clan master?"
The two family heads exchanged a brief, quiet look, their eyes glinting with renewed focus at his choice of words.
"Honored guests?!" Arctosz spat, slamming the haft of his axe against the floorboards. "You mean those figures even more insatiable than wild beasts? The ones making shady trade deals with you behind closed doors to haul away ore that rightfully belongs to Kjeragandr?!"
The heavy thud of the axe wasn't the gentle start to a debate that Enciodes had described; it was the posture of a warrior ready to swing his weapon at the slightest provocation.
Seeing the Ursus man's aggressive stance, the Black Knight standing behind Enciodes tightened her grip on the hilt at her hip. Her sharp eyes swept the room, silently warning anyone who harbored thoughts of violence.
"Calm yourself, Arctosz," Enciodes said, entirely unbothered by the giant's fury. Such outbursts occurred during nearly every council meeting; like the perpetual snow outside, they had simply become a routine habit. "You are the oldest among the three of us. Try not to give me the impression that you are far younger than I am—young enough to lack even a shred of composure."
Turning his gaze away from the giant, Enciodes looked toward the Zalak woman. "And what brings you here, Ratatos?"
"Don't take that tone with me, as if I'm here purely to demand an accounting," the orange-furred Zalak replied, her tail swishing with casual indifference. "You know exactly why you're standing in this hall! The things you've done have blown far past the limits of what any of us can tolerate!"
Only Kjeragandr knew how much criticism she had faced within her own family after his recent actions were uncovered. She had occasionally supported his initiatives in the past, and had she not held a firm grip on the family's core power over the years, she would have been stripped of her position as clan master by now.
"And what might those things be?" Enciodes asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm genuinely curious as to which specific matter you're referring to."
"Don't play dumb!" Ratatos snapped. "Allowing your subordinates to mine deep within the sacred mountain? Training a specialized climbing team to open secret trails just to haul out massive quantities of tears-stone? And when your operations were discovered, your people actually had the audacity to resist our inspectors with force..."
Arctosz laid out the list of transgressions line by line. In the eyes of traditionalists, these were unforgivable crimes—crimes that demanded blood as restitution.
Whether it was extracting mineral wealth from the sacred mountain or obtaining tears-stone through unapproved methods, such acts were strictly forbidden in Kjerag.
"If you are referring to the brief skirmish," Enciodes replied in a measured, deliberate voice, a faint hint of apology in his tone that felt entirely superficial, "that was indeed an unexpected outcome. However, as one of the three ruling houses, my family retains the right to send teams to climb that legendary peak."
He paused, resting his hands back on his cane. "As for the mining operations, that was merely the result of an overly aggressive employee acting on his own initiative. I have already stripped him of his position and exiled him from my house. I would think..."
"Save your childish excuses!" Ratatos interrupted impatiently, cutting his explanation short. She had no desire to sit through meaningless misdirection. "Just because we overlooked your minor infractions in the past doesn't mean we'll continue to play the fool when it matters most!"
The clever, calculating Zalak woman suddenly projected a cold, unyielding authority. It was startling to see a non-combatant exude such a sharp aura.
As her presence flared, the retainers scattered throughout the chamber subtly shifted their stances, projecting open hostility toward the Silverash clan. They, too, refused to tolerate this blasphemy any longer.
"Then what is it you intend to do?" Enciodes countered, a trace of mockery bleeding into his voice. "Execute me right here in this hall based on unproven accusations? Or perhaps you intend to blow up the railway and shut down the factories, forcing our people to return to a life of backward poverty?"
His tone dripped with contempt. They seemed to forget that they, too, were reaping the benefits of those sacrifices, sitting comfortably in their chairs while accusing him of destroying sacred traditions. And then, as naturally as breathing, they enjoyed every luxury and advantage brought about by the breaking of those very traditions.
"If you were to agree to step down, that would be ideal," Arctosz grunted. "I'll personally send men to tear down those modern monstrosities..."
"The High Elder and the Saintess have arrived!"
Before the hot-tempered Ursus could finish his threat, the voice of an acolyte stationed outside echoed into the chamber. The tense, suffocating atmosphere in the room paused for a fraction of a second as every gaze shifted toward the entrance.
Accompanied by measured footsteps and the soft, crisp chiming of ceremonial bells, the vital third power of Kjerag entered the hall—the representatives of the Vine-Bear Court, speaking with the divine authority of Kjeragandr.
Everyone in the room stood straight, placing their hands together in a posture of prayer as a unified murmur echoed through the hall: "Praise be to Kjeragandr."
Leading the way was an elderly Feline whose features bore a striking resemblance to a bird. Standing tall and imposing, he looked very much like a massive owl.
Stepping in behind him was a young woman who maintained a quiet, aloof silence, her eyes carrying a faint, ethereal air. Her facial features shared a clear resemblance with Enciodes; she was his second younger sister, Enya Silverash.
Yet she no longer bore the Silverash name in official matters. Enya now represented the Vine-Bear Court, serving as the living Saintess of Kjeragandr.
A Saintess, is it?
Enciodes hadn't intended to dwell on the comparison, but seeing her now, he couldn't help but mentally contrast Enya with Jeanne, whom he had met previously.
Compared to that bright, unpredictable Saintess, Enya appeared far more reserved and quiet, keeping her distance from those around her.
"Now then, we shall address the matters concerning the Silverash family," the High Elder stated, taking his place at the center of the hall. He bypassed all pleasantries and cut straight to the point.
Meanwhile, in a side room adjacent to the council chamber, a young woman dressed as a simple maid suddenly pushed open a window, gazing out toward the distant mountain passes.
That was the primary trade route connecting Kjerag to the outside world—the very track along which the old train was currently making its way.
"It seems... I ought to go take a look," she murmured, a mysterious smile touching her lips.
A gentle breeze stirred around her, swirling through the quiet room before sweeping out the open window, gliding gracefully toward the mountain passes.