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ArabicArknights: Prime Minister of Kjerag — Chapter 14
Chapter 14: Preparation, Jailbreak!
The heavy wooden doors of the Elder Hall slammed open, the sudden draft scattering the scent of burning pine and aged parchment.
When Enya stormed into the grand office, her silver hair windswept and her breathing ragged from the climb, she found the Grand Elder sitting in a plush recliner, quietly sipping his morning tea. Seeing the Sacred Maiden’s furious expression, the old man calmly set his porcelain cup onto the saucer with a soft clink and looked up with mild curiosity.
“Sacred Maiden, what has happened to cause such a stir?”
Enya took a deep, trembling breath, forcing her anger down into her chest. “Something happened to Ernst. Why didn’t I receive any news about it?”
“I am afraid I do not quite follow your meaning, Sacred Maiden.” The Grand Elder blinked, the very picture of elderly confusion. “What exactly do you mean by Prime Minister Ernst having an incident?”
“He is going to be subjected to the Holy Stone Judgement in the plaza! If he fails, he will be exiled!” Enya stepped closer to the desk, her voice echoing off the high stone ceilings. “Why did no one inform me of such a massive undertaking beforehand?”
The Grand Elder slowly shook his head, his expression shifting to one of dawning realization. “Ah. So you were unaware of this?”
“No one told me! How else would I know?” Enya was exasperated by the man’s feigned surprise. “Did you not tell me that as the Sacred Maiden, I possess the absolute right to be informed of all matters concerning Kjeragandr? Does a Holy Stone Judgement suddenly not qualify as a matter involving our goddess?”
“Oh, it certainly does.” The Grand Elder nodded in slow affirmation, though his tone remained maddeningly level. “Please do not misunderstand. You absolutely have the right to know. Perhaps the temple maid responsible for delivering the daily reports to the Saintess Hall simply did not think it was a matter you strictly needed to be burdened with.”
“But I did need to know!” Enya gritted her teeth, her hands gripping the edge of his polished desk. “You are putting my brother on trial!”
“But before this unfortunate incident occurred, the servants were not aware that this specific matter required your immediate attention,” the Grand Elder replied smoothly. “After all, servants are simple creatures. They could not possibly have known in advance that the sinner to be judged would turn out to be the Sacred Maiden’s own flesh and blood.”
“Is that your excuse for keeping it from me?”
“No, Sacred Maiden. No one kept anything from you.” The Grand Elder sat up slightly, his voice taking on a righteous, lecturing edge. “It is merely that no one explicitly decided to tell you.”
Enya’s jaw tightened, swallowing back a very unholy curse. “Is there a difference?”
“Of course there is a difference. You are Kjeragandr’s mortal representative. Actively concealing matters of the goddess from you is a grave sin that no priest here could bear. However, omitting certain reports is merely a long-standing administrative custom. You are burdened with countless affairs of state and spirit. You do not necessarily need to attend to every single trivial detail.”
“I need to know everything!” Enya clenched her fists at her sides.
“Everything?” The Grand Elder repeated the word calmly. He met Enya’s gaze, seeing the raw, unhidden resentment burning in her eyes. Slowly, he propped up his frail body, rising from the recliner with the aid of his cane. He walked toward a nearby shelf, pulled down a small, leather-bound ledger, and opened it.
“Today, Karlan Temple purchased thirty sets of ceremonial incense and tallow candles…” he began to read aloud, his voice droning and dry.
Enya finally snapped, unable to tolerate the blatant mockery any longer. “Grand Elder, enough! You know exactly what I mean. I need to be informed of all important matters!”
The Grand Elder stopped reading. He slowly raised his eyelids, his gaze suddenly sharp and heavy as he looked at the young woman before him.
“I know,” he said indifferently. “But who defines what is important?”
He took a step closer, his hunched figure suddenly exuding the suffocating, intimidating pressure of a man who had ruled from the shadows for decades.
“Tell me, Sacred Maiden. Is it Kjeragandr’s divine oracle, the sacred land She created, and the millions of Kjeragan citizens living upon it that are important? Or is your rebellious brother—a man who took office mere days ago and is already attempting to sell off our national territory to foreigners—important?”
The fiery retort burning in Enya’s stomach hit a sudden wall, catching painfully in her throat.
The Grand Elder tossed the ledger onto the desk and leaned heavily on his cane. “Sacred Maiden, from the very moment the bell tolled and you were chosen to be Kjeragandr’s voice on this earth, the SilverAsh family name ceased to concern you. It would be best for you to internalize this reality sooner rather than later.”
He struck his cane against the stone floor. The sharp crack echoed through the hall like an executioner’s blade hitting the block.
“Let alone the treasonous Ernst. Even your eldest brother, Enciodes… if he dares to cross Kjerag’s bottom line, if he dares to disrespect Kjeragandr and insult Karlan Temple, he will suffer the exact same fate! God will punish them!”
Tears pricked at the corners of Enya’s eyes, born of frustration and a deep, aching helplessness.
Truthfully, even she struggled to understand why Ernst would mortgage Kjerag’s sacred land to Columbian businessmen, or why Enciodes had not only failed to stop him, but actively helped the madness. It was a blatant challenge to the traditional beliefs of every Kjeragan, a move entirely unacceptable to their isolated society.
Yet, even wrapped in confusion, she still supported Ernst.
Perhaps it was blind trust. Perhaps it was a sister’s doting love. Or perhaps it was guilt. After all, on Ernst’s very first day in office, it was Enya who had secretly handed over the vital Kjerag ledgers preserved by Karlan Temple, offering him her unwavering support.
She had given her word. And the Sacred Maiden did not go back on her word.
She had stormed into this office to accuse the temple of deception and to gauge their true stance. Now, seeing the Grand Elder’s absolute, unyielding hostility, she realized there was no room for negotiation. Wasting any more breath here was pointless.
“You want me to think clearly? To abandon him and return to the safety of the temple’s shore?” Enya wiped her eyes, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. “If I were that kind of coward, I never would have climbed this mountain and endured that trial in the first place!”
She glared at the ashen-faced Grand Elder one last time, turned on her heel, and ran out the heavy doors.
Just because the Grand Elder refused to support her did not mean she was entirely alone in Karlan Temple. At the very least, Kjera—the maid who had secretly warned her of Ernst’s impending doom—was still trustworthy.
Bursting through the doors of the Saintess Hall, Enya found Kjera standing quietly by the frosted window, gazing out at the snow-capped peaks as if lost in deep contemplation.
“The Grand Elder wants to destroy Ernst too!” Enya called out, her tone ringing with a newfound, desperate resolution.
Kjera blinked, pulling herself from her thoughts. She turned to look at the panting girl. “And what about you? What do you intend to do?”
“I am the Sacred Maiden, am I not? I speak for Kjeragandr on this earth, do I not?”
Kjera paused, a strange flicker crossing her eyes, before she gave a slow nod.
A determined, almost reckless smile broke across Enya’s face. “Then at the Holy Stone ceremony, I will stand before the crowds and declare Ernst innocent on behalf of Kjeragandr!”
Kjera stared at her, utterly stunned. ‘…That is a massive blasphemy!’
“Dispatching the Snowcap Patrol to assault a Holy Stone ceremony? Is this truly the best strategy you could formulate, Enciodes? Get a grip on yourself!”
Gnosis Edelweiss leaned over the polished conference table, his sharp eyes narrowed in disbelief. “The Snowcap Patrol’s training is not even complete. We still rely on Karlan Trade acting as a neutral intermediary to continue our development in Kjerag, to expand Turicum’s infrastructure, and to attract foreign immigrants. Is it truly worth exposing our greatest military trump card for the sake of one Ernst, risking total expulsion from Kjerag?”
Gnosis’s analysis was, as always, flawlessly rational. In the past, such cold logic would have been immediately accepted and applied by Enciodes. But today, the head of the SilverAsh family merely gave his chief technology officer a freezing sideways glance.
“Gnosis, you would do well to consider your next words carefully,” Enciodes warned, his voice dangerously soft. “If the situation is exactly as you describe, then I will have to seriously reconsider whether it is ‘worthwhile’ to keep you employed at Karlan Trade.”
The room fell dead silent.
As a descendant of the very family suspected of assassinating the former SilverAsh patriarch and his wife—Enciodes and Ernst’s parents—Gnosis was accustomed to receiving venomous glares wherever he walked. It was a burden he bore, compounded by his abrasive habit of speaking pure logic without the slightest regard for social grace or emotional sensitivity.
If the world operated purely on his absolute rationality, the man sitting beside Enciodes right now would certainly not be named Gnosis Edelweiss. Overruling the fierce objections of his own allies to keep Gnosis by his side was the greatest concession Enciodes had ever made for him.
But today, the target of that cold rationality was Enciodes’s own blood.
“Security,” Enciodes commanded, waving a dismissive hand. “Please escort Mr. Gnosis to his residence. He is officially suspended pending review, and no longer possesses the authority to participate in confidential company meetings.”
Ignoring Gnosis’s immediate attempt to protest, two towering Forte guards stepped forward. Catching the frail scientist by his arms, they effortlessly hoisted him off his feet and hauled him out the boardroom doors.
Having cleanly excised the unexpected disruption, Enciodes redirected his piercing gaze to the remaining loyalists gathered around the table.
To his left sat Matterhorn, a quintessential Forte warrior with broad shoulders, bronze skin, and a stoic, square jaw. Beside him was Courier, a swift and agile messenger whose healthy, wheat-colored skin and relaxed smile made him look more like a friendly postman than a lethal operative. And finally, leaning against the far wall, was Enciodes’s ultimate trump card: the three-time consecutive champion knight hired from Kazimierz at an astronomical price. Degenbrecher, the Black Knight.
Aside from Gnosis, who had just been ejected for his impudence, the absolute core of Enciodes’s power was assembled in this room.
Their objective was dangerously simple.
“We will deploy the Snowcap Patrol, despite their incomplete training, to encircle Holy Stone Plaza and extract Ernst,” Enciodes stated, his gaze sweeping over the three elite operators. “If I were to use a more colloquial term for this operation… it is a jailbreak. Who among you has the confidence to execute this?”
“I can handle scouting the perimeter defenses and securing a clean evacuation route,” Courier volunteered immediately, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced by sharp professionalism.
“I will take command of the Snowcap Patrol and intercept the Paleroche Family’s forces,” Matterhorn promised, his deep voice steady as a mountain. “I will not allow a single one of their reinforcements to set foot inside Holy Stone Plaza.”
Enciodes nodded, his gaze finally shifting to the tall woman in the black suit.
Degenbrecher offered a faint, thrilling smile. “I must admit, I didn’t expect my first official mission under your employ to be something quite this dramatic.”
She pushed off the wall, her expression shifting into one of absolute, solemn lethality. “I will handle the breach. I will enter Holy Stone Plaza and extract Ernst. You have my word, Enciodes—he will be returned to you without a single scratch. I swear it on my name.”
Enciodes closed his eyes for a brief second, giving a firm nod.
The timing was far earlier than he had originally anticipated, and their preparations were woefully insufficient. But the arrow was already drawn back on the bowstring; it had to be loosed.
‘Ernst,’Enciodes thought, looking out the window toward the distant peaks.’I only hope that after I burn such a massive amount of capital and political goodwill to save your life, you do not disappoint me.”Consider this my initial investment in your future.’