The following morning, Gnosis was awakened after barely a night's sleep. He was greeted by guards whose polite, soft-spoken words were accompanied by an unmistakable firmness: he was to prepare immediately to march alongside the clan search party.
In the end, he found no opportunity to send word out to the mountain ridges. But it no longer mattered—so long as he was moving with them, he could manage.
By sunrise, news of the expedition had swept through the valley town. As the townsfolk watched the combined search force gather, their reactions were deeply conflicted.
Some worried about the grim fate awaiting the escapees if they were dragged back in chains. Far more, however, believed bringing them back was a mercy—no one could survive for long out in those open, frozen crags.
Still, the sight of two clan chiefs leading the march in person struck many as strange. For a handful of runaway factory workers, was it truly necessary for two rulers to venture out into the wild together?
"And off they go, just like that? I was expecting at least a grand speech to explain their grand mission to the public," the Doctor mused from her window, watching the armored figures vanish down the snow-covered street. The lack of fanfare felt oddly abrupt.
Back in the wider world, an operation like this would never begin without hours of grandstanding speeches and public posturing. An action devoid of political theater was a rare sight indeed.
Just as the vanguard reached the edge of town, Ratatos paused and glanced up at the inn's upper window. Catching the Doctor's eye, she offered a subtle nod before turning back toward the snowy path.
"You're still pinning your hopes on those foreign outsiders? In times like these, I hardly think leaning on strangers is a wise path," Arctosz grunted, casting a cold, dismissive glare toward the inn.
"That is none of your concern, you stubborn ox," Ratatos snapped back, refusing to waste her breath arguing the point. If she let herself get dragged into another shouting match with him today, she would end up coughing blood from pure frustration.
"Do you see that Liberi over there?" she added, pointing a gloved finger toward Gnosis, who maintained an utterly blank expression as if the cold mountain air around him were none of his business. "He claims Enciodes cast him out. Have your men keep a tight watch on him. If necessary, feel free to use a bit of rough handling—just don't break him."
Arctosz cast a vicious glare at Gnosis. "Cast out by Enciodes? Ha! More like sent out as a planted mole."
Ratatos sighed internally. The fact that the old brute could piece that together in seconds proved he wasn't entirely devoid of wits. Why, then, did he act like a mindless, muscle-brained fool the moment civil management was required?
If his brain functioned like this when dealing with the populace, the riots in the valley would never have erupted in the first place.
Thump, thump, thump, thump—!
As the expedition plodded forward through the deep drifts, a heavy cadence of approaching footsteps echoed from the narrow pass ahead. Someone was marching directly toward them at high speed, prompting several guards to grip their weapon hilts in sudden tension.
Who would be charging out of the frozen wilderness toward them at a time like this? A dozen dark possibilities flashed through their minds, all pointing toward a single conclusion: trouble was coming.
Yet as the figures broke through the blowing snow, the guards let out a collective sigh of relief.
Leading the approaching squad was a white-furred Caprinae woman—the missing brain of the Paleroches Clan, the very woman Ratatos had described as the only person in Arctosz's entire lineage who possessed a working intellect.
"Chief. Lady Ratatos," Valais greeted them smoothly, stepping forward without a hint of fatigue to offer a crisp salute. "I am relieved to report that my team has returned in time to rendezvous with your force."
"I was wondering where you'd run off to," Ratatos remarked, eyeing Valais and the battle-hardened soldiers behind her. "I must say, your timing left much to be desired. You should have forced Arctosz to lead the scouting party instead—it would have saved us a mountain of headaches back in town."
"Our Chief's temperament is... undeniably fiery," Valais replied with a faint, apologetic smile. "When left to his own devices, he tends to act without forethought. I heard whispers of the unrest in the settlement, and I deeply regret not being there to handle it. Yet if I had to choose again, I would still take to the field personally."
The two women conversed as though Arctosz weren't even present. The Ursus chief, far from taking offense, looked downright relieved that he no longer had to handle complex diplomatic banter.
"Never mind that now—it's your family's affair anyway," Ratatos dismissed the topic with a wave. "More importantly: what did your search turn up out in the ice?"
Ratatos knew precisely why Valais had avoided returning to town. The entire clergy of the Vine-Bear Court was currently stationed in the settlement—and Valais harbored a deep, personal history of friction with the Grand Elder and his monks. Staying out in the deep snow was her way of keeping those old grievances buried.
"We gathered a great deal," Valais reported, her tone turning grave. "We identified the primary hideout where Enciodes and his elite guards are stationed, along with several secondary encampments they previously occupied. To avoid alerting them, my team refrained from taking direct action."
It was astonishing news. While the attention of the high clans had been tied up by the clergy and the striking laborers, Valais had quietly mapped out the enemy's core base.
"How stand their numbers?" Arctosz cut in, his eyes lighting up with sudden, ferocious excitement. "If we strike now, can we take Enciodes alive?!"
After days of suffocating political games, the prospect of a straightforward battle made the old warrior's blood surge. He felt as though his limbs were rusting away from inaction, and he could hardly contain his itch for a fight.
"Pray let reason govern your actions, Chief," Valais scolded softly, keeping her voice low to preserve his standing before the soldiers. "Do not allow bloodlust to blind you. If we charge in blindly, the only outcome will be my immediate succession as Clan Chief!"
Though she understood her leader's hot-headed nature, Valais did not approve of his reckless habits, and her reprimand carried a sharp edge.
"The intelligence aligns with earlier reports," Valais continued, addressing both clan heads. "Enciodes commands roughly two thousand well-drilled soldiers. However, they are currently spread across several fortified encampments, maintaining coordination via specialized communication devices. Their weaponry is noticeably superior to our own—in a head-on clash, we hold no advantage. Furthermore, the escaped workers have now bolstered his ranks..."
"That is grim news indeed," Ratatos's expression darkened. "It seems the Black Knight wasn't exaggerating when she warned that Enciodes was prepared for total war. That man truly intends to bury us all."
The stark reality was bitter. The Browntail Clan remained the weakest of the three houses in raw military strength; if total war erupted, her people wouldn't survive a single week of heavy fighting.
Under normal circumstances, the logical choice would be submitting to Enciodes's new order. Yet that was the one path Ratatos refused to walk—her pride as a clan chief would never allow her to surrender without a fight.
"However, we still have options," Valais analyzed calmly. "The fact that his forces are dispersed gives us an opening—though it could just as easily be a trap. He undoubtedly knows our joint force is marching into the mountains. Our next move requires extreme caution."
A heavy silence fell over the leaders. Yet despite the danger, stopping the march was not an option; halting in open terrain would only leave them vulnerable to an ambush.
Facing such overwhelming odds, even a sharp strategist like Ratatos felt at a loss. How should they maneuver?
"What is there to debate?!" Arctosz's booming voice shattered the quiet, his raw, unyielding style cutting straight through their hesitation. "Since the odds are stacked against us, we march straight for his main stronghold! A direct thrust is our only shot at turning the tables!"
Arctosz's call to arms instantly ignited the spirits of the younger warriors. Spurred on by their chief's fierce confidence, the soldiers raised their weapons with roaring approval, eager for battle.
Ratatos opened her mouth to condemn the sheer stupidity of charging blindly ahead, but surrounding them were mostly Paleroches warriors. In the face of their surging momentum, her objections carried no weight.
As the hot-blooded force surged forward under Arctosz's banner, marching directly toward Enciodes's hidden base, Ratatos fell into step beside Valais, her brows knit tight in frustration.
"You're just going to let these idiots march to their doom?" Ratatos whispered sharply.
Valais looked out over the advancing column, her eyes cool and resolved. "Given our current position... it is, strangely enough, our best remaining option."