"Though I should clarify, I'm certainly not trying to defend that fool," Ratatos offered, explaining her earlier words. "Among the three ruling families, Arctosz represents the Paleroches clan, a group notorious for their hostile attitude toward outsiders. You'd best warn your friend to stay on her guard. When his people decide to act, thinking things through isn't exactly high on their priority list."
Under ordinary circumstances, Ratatos had zero desire to speak up for a brute like him. However, Jeanne's unique standing persuaded her to offer a word of caution.
While she hardly approved of the aggressive methods employed by House Silverash, that didn't mean she shared the Paleroches leader's rabid hatred of foreign visitors. Harboring such blind hostility yielded zero benefit.
"I gathered as much," Jeanne replied with a slight smile. "That big guy doesn't even bother hiding what he's thinking. His every emotion is written plainly across his face."
"That's one way to put it," Ratatos agreed with a faint chuckle. "He certainly isn't the type who knows how to mask his true nature."
Meanwhile, Arctosz seemed to have conferred with his companions during the brief rest. When he returned to the group, his posture toward Jeanne and Alina was visibly less guarded than before.
Before long, the party safely reached the Vine-Bear Court, situated high upon the Sacred Mountain. There, they stood directly before the grand sanctuary that countless pilgrims spent days trying to reach on foot.
The sanctuary rested upon a massive stone plateau near the summit. Local legend claimed that the peak was once the highest point in all of Kjerag, until the roaring gales of Kjeragandr sheared the top of the mountain flat, leaving the broad plain seen today.
The architecture was far from ostentatious. Built primarily from heavy mountain timber, it was draped in traditional Kjerag woven ornaments and banners that snapped loudly in the icy wind.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Excellency, and a true honor to welcome you to our snow-bound land," a voice greeted them.
Stepping down from the carriage, Jeanne was immediately met by an elderly Feline man. The moment his sharp eyes locked onto her, he began scrutinizing the Saintess of Sankta.
The elder appeared immensely aged. Every time he leaned heavily on his wooden staff to take a slow step forward, one couldn't help but worry he might lose his balance and fall.
Yet, despite his frail frame, his posture and the resonant gravity in his voice projected a quiet, commanding authority. He gave off the unmistakable impression of a veteran leader who was not to be underestimated.
When Jeanne met his gaze, she caught a razor-sharp glint hidden within his eyes, suggesting that the Grand Elder had been a formidable figure in his youth.
Still, compared to Pope Yvangelista, the impression this old man gave off was entirely different—almost the polar opposite at first glance.
"I am equally honored by the invitation," Jeanne replied politely, offering standard pleasantries. "Before arriving, I had only heard stories of your realm..."
After a brief exchange of diplomatic courtesies, Jeanne and Alina followed the elder through the heavy wooden gates into the temple-like sanctuary.
"So this is the main sanctuary..." Jeanne observed, watching a group of pilgrims bow respectfully before a massive, unworked monolith inside. "I half-expected to find a carved statue of Kjeragandr here."
"Though Lady Kjeragandr shelters our realm, she has never revealed her true physical form to her followers," the Grand Elder explained smoothly, assuming the role of host as he shared the ancient legends of the snow realm. He spoke at length about the deity's grand deeds, subtly dropping hints with every sentence.
Jeanne, however, had zero intention of parsing his hidden meanings. Recognizing them as mere political probes, she simply treated his speech as an entertaining local history lesson.
Seeing that neither Jeanne nor Alina showed signs of awe, behaving instead like ordinary tourists passing through, the Grand Elder quietly abandoned his attempt to impress them. He simply led them through the halls of the Vine-Bear Court, which he had overseen for decades.
He had assumed that the chaotic, profit-driven nature of the outside world would have eroded the conviction of foreign believers, turning them into pragmatic opportunists. Yet, the two women before him possessed a calm, unshakeable aura, remaining entirely indifferent to the grandeur of Kjeragandr—offering only polite, generic compliments.
Recognizing this, the Grand Elder lost his enthusiasm for the tour.
After all, he was an old man with one foot in the grave. Walking around with these youths for so long was taking a physical toll on his aging joints.
He decided to leave the rest of the hosting duties to their Saintess. The girl possessed a natural grace and was adept at handling guests; she wouldn't allow any diplomatic missteps to occur.
"What do you think the old gentleman was trying to accomplish by walking us around for so long?" Alina whispered into Jeanne's ear, her warm breath contrasting sharply with the freezing mountain air and tickling Jeanne's skin. "It feels like he didn't gain anything, and just tired himself out."
"Even if you ask me, I couldn't tell you his true motive," Jeanne scratched her ear, smiling softly. "Perhaps... he simply wanted to gauge whether believers from the outside world still hold genuine faith?"
Truthfully, neither of them quite grasped the old man's cryptic behavior. While the legendary feats of Kjeragandr he described were impressive, they weren't enough to leave them stunned.
Jeanne was, however, genuinely curious about the legends of a deity halting blizzards and cataclysms. She was interested in seeing what a true, ancient deity of this land looked like—a genuine, living entity, as opposed to corrupted immortals like Kashchey who played at being gods.
"Good afternoon, travelers. I am Enya—Enya Silverash," a soft, gentle voice called out. "I imagine you have already heard quite a bit about me from my younger sister."
The two turned to see a snow leopard woman who shared a striking resemblance to Ensia, though she appeared slightly older and possessed a more reserved demeanor.
If one were to ask Jeanne what caught her attention first about the Saintess, it was undoubtedly the grand, fluffy snow leopard tail swaying gently behind her.
An instinctual urge to reach out and pet the soft fur surged through Jeanne's mind, though her self-restraint won out for the moment. She decided to save that thought for when they became better acquainted.
"Ah, yes! I've heard plenty about you from Cliffheart," Jeanne said, stepping forward to shake her hand. "That girl misses you dearly. She mentioned that certain traditional rules have kept her from visiting you."
"Cliffheart?" Enya tilted her head in slight confusion before realizing Jeanne was referring to her sister's codename.
"That's Ensia's codename on Rhodes Island," Jeanne clarified with a warm smile. "Practically everyone on the landship uses codenames rather than their real names."
"I see... Ensia..." A bitter, wistful smile touched Enya's lips. "I miss her deeply as well. Come to think of it, it has been quite some time since I last held her in my arms."
Realizing she was keeping her guests standing in the drafty hall, Enya quickly gestured toward the corridor. "Please, follow me inside. The Vine-Bear Court sits right at the mountain peak, and the draft here can be quite biting."
She led Jeanne and Alina into her private quarters—a remarkably simple, sparse room.
Taking in the room, which was almost entirely devoid of personal belongings or warmth, Jeanne confirmed her earlier suspicions. Enya's living conditions here were far from comfortable.
It wasn't that the caretakers actively mistreated their Saintess; rather, they strictly enforced ascetic doctrines, requiring her to perform her sacred duties without worldly distractions while the Vine-Bear Court managed everything else.
Yet, it wasn't the barren room that truly caught Jeanne's attention. What drew her sharp gaze was a serene, smiling maid standing quietly near the corner of the room.
There was something undeniably unusual about her. Jeanne's intuition quietly signaled that the woman standing before them was anything but a simple servant.