Jeanne was well aware that although these Sarkaz were often called the "Demon Race," simply categorizing them as biological demons was not entirely appropriate.
Reflecting on the traits that appeared on Mostima after her "fall"—features that were unique to the Sarkaz—who could say for sure what the true relationship between the Sarkaz and the Sankta actually was? Regardless, while she had never personally managed a group of Sarkaz mercenaries before, Jeanne believed her leadership and ability to command subordinates were more than up to the task.
"Then I shall look forward to your management," Talulah said. Her strength had mostly recovered by now, and she patted Jeanne on the shoulder with an expression of complete confidence.
In truth, if Jeanne hadn't been there, Talulah would have hesitated much longer before deciding whether to contact the Sarkaz so early. Because they were Sarkaz, they faced a level of discrimination that mirrored the plight of the Infected. Even a non-Infected member of the Sarkaz race often held a social status lower than that of an Infected from another race.
Talulah wouldn't have felt comfortable entrusting such a marginalized group to just anyone; she feared that a biased commander would only spark more conflict and that a leader might fail to treat everyone with absolute fairness.
"Alright, there's no need to keep saying such pleasant things. If you could just let me worry about you a little less every day, that would be better than anything else."
Jeanne let out a long sigh and gave Talulah a mock-glaring look. Who else but a "normal" person would run off to a deserted area alone to practice Originium Arts until they were physically incapacitated?
The two walked side-by-side back into the village. Currently, the settlement was overflowing with a festive and joyful atmosphere. Before the onset of this year's winter, they had experienced a truly magnificent harvest. Many of the villagers hadn't seen a harvest of this magnitude in years—the sight of grain piled high as far as the eye could see was something they had long forgotten.
In stark contrast to the village's jubilant celebration, the atmosphere at the Sarkaz camp could only be described as desolate.
Most of the team members were huddled deep inside their tents, unwilling to come out for fear that the Ursus winter would freeze away what little body heat they had managed to preserve. They hadn't wanted to come to this land. After escaping from Kazdel, they had stumbled through a long journey, taking on various commissions along the way just to keep moving.
The only reason they had ended up in Ursus was because their previous employer's destination was within its borders. Unexpectedly, a series of accidents occurred within the empire, eventually forcing them to take refuge in this wilderness.
"Captain, are we really going to choose this path? Or is it simply that we have no better options left?"
Unlike the celebration in the village, the Sarkaz camp was silent and cold. The Sarkaz leader was a peculiar individual; even inside their own tent, they remained encased in heavy, thick armor, speaking in a tiny, low, and muffled voice. From their appearance, one couldn't see the Captain's face or even a single strand of hair. However, the Caster speaking to them had long since grown accustomed to their leader's attire.
"What else can we do? Our food is nearly gone, and our medicine is exhausted. We need a place to stay, even if it is only temporary, to provide us with supplies."
"The brothers are mostly worried that these people will be like the Regent—using us up and then discarding us. You haven't forgotten how he treated us after we returned from Laterano, have you?"
At the mention of Laterano, the Caster became visibly agitated. He could never forget those nightmare-like days where they were trapped on Sankta soil like ants in a glass jar. What made him even more unable to remain calm was Theresis's attitude toward them; the way the Regent had simply pushed the mercenaries aside and given them the cold shoulder was truly disheartening.
It was said that many people had already followed the refugees and fled to Her Highness Theresa's side. No one understood why the Regent would do something so thankless and alienating.
"I indeed do not fully trust them, but I trust Patriot's eyes. Do not forget who he is. A person who can earn his recognition will not be a bad person."
Inside the tent, the Sarkaz Captain voiced their thoughts. Hearing this, the Caster stopped arguing. Indeed, everyone was currently only willing to tentatively trust the other side because of that legendary Wendigo.
"You should go rest as well. Everything will be decided after we meet them tomorrow."
The Caster said nothing more and simply left the room. The armored Sarkaz remained sitting there, motionless, lost in thought.
The next day, Jeanne, Talulah, and Patriot followed the prior arrangement and set out for the meeting with the mercenary squad.
Originally, there was no need for Patriot to be involved, but he had unexpectedly requested to come along this morning, saying he had certain matters he wished to discuss with them personally.
"Is this their camp?"
Talulah looked at the desolate village before her, her eyes filled with doubt. From a single glance, it was obvious the village had been abandoned long ago; some of the houses had already collapsed into ruins.
Even though people were living here, there wasn't a single breath of human life visible in the village. It was impossible to tell that living souls were residing here at all. If it weren't for the few blood-stained tents standing there, Talulah would have suspected they had been given the wrong address.
"They have fled all the way here; their vigilance is naturally much higher than that of ordinary people."
Patriot looked at the dilapidated tents. He could tell that their journey had been arduous; they didn't even have the energy left to clean the blood from their tents. From the worn state of the fabric, he could see their life in Kazdel hadn't been any better; he even noticed numerous patches and mended holes.
"Halt. State your purpose... You are... Buldrokas'tee?"
The Sarkaz on sentry duty saw the towering figure and the terrifying appearance. Even for a Sarkaz, the sight of that face caused a visible shudder of shock.
Despite this, he regained his composure almost instantly. That massive frame and ferocious exterior—was this not the very Wendigo who remained a living legend in Kazdel even now? In that moment, the veteran warrior, who had survived countless battles, couldn't help but adjust his stance, standing at full attention to face Patriot with the utmost respect.
"We are the representatives from Reunion. This is our leader, Talulah, and our officer, Jeanne."
Patriot spoke to the Sarkaz warrior in pure, guttural Sarkaz. Talulah stood by, listening intently, though she couldn't understand a single word.
"These... two little girls?"
Although the Sarkaz was wearing a mask, his body visibly leaned back in surprise when he looked at Jeanne and Talulah. He had never imagined that the "leader" Patriot spoke of would be a young girl no older than himself! He immediately began to doubt whether this organization was truly reliable.
Despite his internal hesitation, he didn't leave them standing outside. He turned and led them into the heart of the camp.
"Boss, they are here."
He stopped in front of a tent and spoke to the interior, but did not enter. He simply waited for his leader's command.
"The guests have arrived. Let them in."
After a short while, a low, muffled voice drifted out from inside. It was spoken in somewhat broken Ursus—likely learned during their time as refugees in the empire, just enough to handle basic communication.
"You two go in. I will wait out here for you," Patriot said to Jeanne and Talulah. They both nodded slightly in acknowledgement and stepped inside the tent.
The layout inside was extremely simple. The largest decoration was a map pinned up; the rest were just daily necessities. A wooden table sat in the center of the room, facing the entrance, and behind it sat a figure clad in strange, heavy armor.
The person appeared to be a massive individual, filling the armor out completely. They looked like the type of powerhouse who could kill a Tumor-beast with a single punch.
The Sarkaz was also momentarily stunned upon seeing the newcomers. They hadn't expected Buldrokas'tee's so-called leader to be such a young girl.
"Welcome. I am the Captain of this mercenary squad. You may call me Mudrock."