Jeanne's calm warning gave the soldiers serious pause. While they felt comfortable dismissing a handful of foreign visitors, they could not afford to openly defy the Saintess—nor did they want news of their horrific camp conditions leaking up the mountain.
Whether Jeanne actually possessed the standing to haul the Saintess down here was something these low-level guards couldn't verify on the spot, but looking at her unwavering confidence, they believed her.
Without another word of pushback, the soldiers stood their ground in tense vigilance, staring down the group as the standoff dragged on.
"So long as you follow the guidelines I laid out earlier, we won't need to trouble Her Holiness with these embarrassing details," the Doctor cut in, her voice even. "What do you say?"
To the onlookers watching from a distance, it seemed the confrontation might finally pass without violence. Relieved, the guards swallowed their pride and accepted the deal.
From their perspective, keeping the Saintess—and by extension, Kjeragandr—ignorant of their severe mismanagement was a compromise they were willing to make.
"What are you all staring at?! Move along!" the guards barked, taking their frustration out on the gathered workers as they grudgingly began organizing the quarantine quarters.
If only they could manage a shred of gentleness in the process, the Doctor thought with a weary sigh as she watched their rough handling of the sick.
Even so, for the infected laborers, it was a long-overdue reprieve. At the very least, someone was forcing the authorities to treat their condition rather than leaving them in cramped quarters to await death.
The workers cast glances of profound gratitude toward the Doctor's group before shrinking back under the sharp shouts of their handlers. They couldn't help but wonder why foreigners showed them more humanity than their own countrymen.
That unspoken question lingered in the cold air long after the guards dispersed, leaving only a heavy cloud of uncertainty over the valley.
Yet, despite slight improvements in their living arrangements, surviving a harsh winter in temporary shelters remained a grueling ordeal. Resentment among the displaced laborers continued to simmer day by day.
Several days later, the boiling point arrived.
Unable to endure the guards' relentless brutality any longer, the infected workers rose up. Led by a few bold individuals, the mob realized the armed soldiers weren't invincible—they were merely men who bled like anyone else.
Distracted by mounting political pressure from every side, the Paleroches Clan failed to respond in time. The rioting workers broke through the perimeter guards and vanished into the snow-capped peaks.
"Those people are... remarkably resourceful," Jeanne commented bleary-eyed when news of the breakout reached her the following morning. Alina had nudged her awake, knocking on the sleeping girl's forehead to rouse her.
"I'm terrified for those miners," Alina said softly, her brow furrowed with deep concern. "In temperatures this brutal, how long can they possibly survive out on the open mountain?"
"They wouldn't have fled into the blizzard without a solid plan," Jeanne replied, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Someone behind the scenes orchestrated this entire escape to guide them safely out."
"You mean..." Alina gasped, realizing the implications.
"Enciodes's influence is growing by the day," Jeanne sighed, leaning back against her pillows. "If this keeps up, rallying the populace for a full coup won't be difficult at all. Public sentiment is shifting to his side fast."
Despite their efforts to ease the workers' burden, Jeanne and her companions were outsiders who had no intention of directly meddling in Kjerag's sovereign affairs.
While the riot was unexpected, it followed the logical chain of events set in motion by the regional collapse.
"I can only imagine how Arctosz is reacting right now," the Doctor chuckled, leaning against the doorframe without a care in the world. "Ratatos is probably rubbing his nose in it as we speak. I wouldn't be surprised if they end up drawing weapons on each other."
The Doctor was content to watch the spectacle unfold. She had already done everything within her power as an advisor; whether this nation found a peaceful resolution or drowned in chaos was entirely out of her hands.
At that very moment, inside the grand hall of the Paleroches Clan estate, Ratatos and Saintess Enya had arrived to demand answers.
The encounter was anything but harmonious. Enya rubbed her temples in frustration as the atmosphere in the room rapidly deteriorated into a shouting match.
The sudden prison break had caught everyone off guard, and seeing Ratatos arrive with a smug, mocking glare made the Paleroches leadership bristle with defensive rage.
"You already knew what Enciodes was planning, yet you somehow managed to hand hundreds of able-bodied men right over to him!" Ratatos spat, her eyes flashing with pure contempt as she glared across the table at the Ursus chief. "You truly are a rare breed of incompetent, Arctosz!"
"We already laid out the guidelines for you, and we secured the vast majority of the labor force! After all that, you still managed to gift him a grand prize! Did Enciodes pay you off under the table?!"
She slammed both palms onto the table, leaning forward to dress down the older clan head without a shred of restraint.
"This was an oversight on our part!" Arctosz bellowed back, his chest heaving. "The sheer force those commoners exerted caught us unprepared! But does this not prove that soft measures are a mistake?! We should have—"
"Should have what?! Massacred them sooner just because they chose a path you can't comprehend? Or because they failed to bow before you and your robed monks?!"
"Enough!" Arctosz roared, slamming his fist onto the wooden armrest. "This is an internal matter for the Paleroches Clan to resolve! It's merely a few hundred workers—we will hunt down this minor issue and crush it in no time!"
"This isn't about whether you can hunt them down, it's about your fundamentally broken approach!" Ratatos retorted furiously. "The Doctor laid out the exact management steps for you multiple times! Why did you refuse to listen?!"
"Enough! Kjerag has no need for outside interference! Especially from a foreign strategist whose true motives remain completely unverified!"
"You aren't just stubborn—your brain is made of solid stone!" Ratatos shouted, her tail lashing the air like a whip. "Without someone doing your thinking for you, are you completely incapable of basic logic?! You are beyond saving!"
It was the first time the leaders of two high clans had engaged in such a public, mud-slinging shouting match. Never before had anyone seen the usually composed Zalak chief lose her temper so spectacularly.
The verbal war showed no signs of stopping—until a crisp, melodious sound echoed through the hall.
Ring-a-ling~ Ring-a-ling~
The sacred chime of the silver handbell cut through the heated noise, its clear tone commanding immediate stillness. Both leaders froze, a sliver of composure returning to their minds as they turned toward the source.
Enya sat calmly at the head of the long table, the holy bell held lightly in her hand. By ancient tradition, when the sacred bells of the Saintess rang, all civil strife was bound to cease, and every citizen was required to listen to her words.
"Please, both of you, calm yourselves," Enya said softly. Though her voice was gentle, the quiet dignity of her office commanded absolute quiet. "Engaging in petty squabbling here is utterly beneath us. By Kjeragandr's grace, our time would be far better spent on matters of real urgency."
Even the frail Grand Elder, resting nearby, opened his eyes in astonishment at Enya's poise. During his brief period of bedrest, the once-timid girl had undergone a staggering transformation.
"What has happened cannot be undone," Enya continued, her gaze sweeping over the silent room. "Deflecting blame and pointing fingers is not how faithful followers of the goddess conduct themselves. Our immediate focus must be discovering where those workers fled, and taking concrete measures to ensure such a breach never happens again."