Enciodes's words provoked an immediate reaction from everyone present. Their first instinct was to question whether he was telling the truth—the man's habit of spinning deceptive webs was hardly news to any of them.
Isolated though Kjerag was from the outside world, the leaders in the chamber were not so ignorant as to be unaware of what Laterano was. They were far from stupid.
"Are you saying the Saintess of that distant nation came all the way to our land without any prior communication?" Arctosz demanded, his broad brow furrowed. "What could she possibly be after?"
Though they knew of Laterano, none of them truly understood its day-to-day reality. Hearing that the nation also worshipped a deity, they simply viewed it as another distant version of Kjerag.
And in their eyes, if a nation sent its Saintess to foreign lands, the goal could only be to preach the faith of Kjeragandr—or in Laterano's case, whatever deity they revered.
"She came in a personal capacity," Enciodes replied smoothly, though a warning tone laced his voice. "Her title simply requires a certain level of awareness on your part. And I suggest you refrain from guessing her motives with wild conspiracy theories. Doing so will only make you look utterly foolish."
While he wouldn't mind watching them blunder into trouble, knowing what he did about that particular Saintess, Enciodes felt it prudent to offer a gentle warning—if only to keep them from courting their own demise.
"In that case, let our family handle the primary hosting duties," Ratatos interjected smoothly, picking up on the hidden warning. She knew all too well how easily the heavy bear beside her could blunder into a disaster.
Thinking it over, such a misstep was far from impossible. The sheer recklessness of the Paleroches clan was something everyone in the room had witnessed over the years.
Meanwhile, oblivious to the high-level politics unfolding on the sacred mountain, Jeanne and her group continued their leisurely stroll down the bustling thoroughfare. Ensia walked beside them, happily pointing out local customs and sharing bits of Kjerag lore.
It was obvious the young girl was thrilled by their arrival. Always lively, she seemed even more energetic today, making for a splendid tour guide.
"That voice from earlier... what do you make of it?" the Doctor asked softly, her thoughts still tangled in the mystery of that soft, echoing speech. "I can't imagine any caster projecting their voice over such a massive distance."
The Doctor's curiosity had been thoroughly piqued ever since Jeanne mentioned the caster was observing them from far away. To communicate effortlessly across such a expanse defied conventional understanding of Originium Arts.
"Who can say?" Jeanne mused after a moment's thought. "Perhaps some mysterious entity that took an interest in us. Or... perhaps it was Kjeragandr herself. That wouldn't be entirely impossible."
"Are you serious?" The Doctor looked more worried than surprised. "The so-called Kjeragandr hasn't shown herself in hundreds of years. Why would she pop up the moment we step foot here?"
Her anxiety was well-founded. Experience taught her that whenever something truly extraordinary crossed their path, trouble was sure to follow.
"I wonder if one of these could turn my luck around?" Blaze chimed in, weaving through the crowded market stalls like a curious child. She held up a pile of quirky, useless trinkets she had picked up along the way, turning back to grin at the Doctor and Jeanne. "Every time I do something a little wild, Kal'tsit catches me red-handed. It's got to be bad luck... Hey, Doctor, want a protective talisman too?"
Though she appeared entirely relaxed, a closer look revealed that Blaze kept herself strictly within a set distance from the Doctor. She intentionally positioned herself where no obstacles blocked her path, ensuring she could spring to the Doctor's defense at a moment's notice.
Even during a leisurely outing, the fierce operator never lost sight of her duty, refusing to let playful distractions compromise her guard—a discipline that set her apart from less seasoned guards.
"Let go of me! I can walk on my own!" The Doctor squirmed, trying in vain to break free from the big Feline's firm grip. Unfortunately, her frail body offered zero leverage.
"Oh, come on! I don't know what you're so worried about, Doctor, but we're out here to enjoy ourselves!" Blaze laughed, dragging the Doctor forward. "Stop moping around—it ruins the fun!"
Watching Blaze haul the Doctor along, Jeanne turned her eyes toward Alina. A sudden, absurd thought crossed her mind: What if we switched places and I carried Alina instead?
Noticing the subtle shift in Jeanne's gaze, Alina instantly guessed her thoughts. Turning her head away, the gentle Elafia spoke with a touch of playful disapproval.
"If you're thinking of trying that on me, feel free to try," Alina said smoothly. "I'll just guarantee that I'll fight back with everything I've got—though how effective my resistance will be is another story."
She assumed Jeanne had been amused by the Doctor's struggling and wanted to try something similar with her. Though embarrassed, she was subtly yielding to Jeanne's whim.
"I think you misunderstood me," Jeanne murmured. Tempting as the prospect sounded, her instincts told her the quiet Elafia had misread her completely, leaving Jeanne at a loss for how to explain.
"Never mind, let me hurry up. If we slow down any further, those two will leave us in the dust!" Jeanne took Alina's hand, stepping forward into a quick march while casting a subtle glance toward an alley corner behind them.
Someone was tailing them.
Both Jeanne and Blaze had picked up on the presence early on. Yet it baffled them—they were merely newly arrived travelers, so why would anyone deploy stalkers to watch their movements?
Exchanging a quick look, the group picked up their pace, veering into a denser crowd to shake off their shadows.
"Is something wrong?" Ensia asked, noticing the sudden shift in their pace though she remained unaware of the threat.
"We have tails," the Doctor said, pointing casually toward their rear. "Do you recognize who they might be?"
Having realized they were spotted, the stalkers no longer bothered to hide. Instead, they trailed openly at a fixed distance, neither closing in nor falling back.
"This constant tailing is getting on my nerves!" The Doctor, usually so calm and low-key, flared up like a restless warrior. She turned to Blaze, ready to unleash her finest fighter. "Blaze, can you knock them out without drawing a crowd?"
"There are too many of them to do it quietly..." Blaze murmured, her hand drifting toward the long case on her back. "Doctor, if I pull out my chainsaw and ensure none of them live to see tomorrow's sun, does that count as completing the task cleanly?"
"Hey, I was just kidding!" The Doctor hastily grabbed Blaze's arm to stop her. If a fight broke out here, they would be the foreign instigators causing trouble in a peaceful town.
"Those aren't our family's guards," Ensia said, examining the stalkers' attire closely. "They look like operatives from one of the other two clans... the Browntail family, if I'm not mistaken."
Each clan's retainers wore distinct attire that signified their allegiance, making them easy to identify for anyone who had grown up in Kjerag. What Ensia couldn't grasp was their motive.
Were they targeting her as the third young lady of Silverash? The layout didn't look like an ambush meant for her. What scheme were they plotting by trailing her group so openly?
Rather than fleeing, Ensia marched right up to the covert operatives, demanding an explanation. "Why are you following me and my friends?"
"..."
The operatives remained dead silent. Their task was simply to track the location of the Silverash family's guests; the reasons behind the order were far above their pay grade.
So they chose silence. As long as no physical attack was initiated against them, they would stand as mute as wooden posts.
Frustrated by their stonewalling, Ensia stamped her foot in annoyance, knowing full well she couldn't squeeze a single word out of them.
"Don't make things difficult for these men. They are merely following orders," a smooth female voice echoed from up the street, trailing with an amused, drawn-out lilt.
At the sound of that voice, the silent operatives let out a collective sigh of relief, turning respectfully toward the approaching Zalak woman.
"Greetings to you all," the woman said, bowing with refined, flawless etiquette. "I am Sciurus Browntail. From this moment on, our family will be handling your reception in Kjerag."