Arknights: Prime Minister of Kjerag — Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Karlan Temple’s Tit-for-Tat

The great goddess Kjeragandr would never display miracles for a single mortal.

This was an unspoken truth known to every cleric who walked the sacred halls. As the Saintess of Kjerag, Enya understood this harsh reality more deeply than anyone. From the moment she was forced to don the heavy ceremonial robes until this very day, it did not matter how piously she chanted the ancient scriptures, nor how diligently she knelt in the freezing winds to pray. Kjeragandr had never once answered her. Perhaps, in the infinite gaze of the divine, only the collective survival of Kjerag held any meaning. A single human life was merely a drop of melting snow in a vast ocean, destined to leave no trace across Her eternal lifespan.

Therefore, the Holy Stone Trial was a theatrical deception from the very beginning.

When the ten minutes elapsed, the Holy Stone would not change. Its grayish-white surface would remain dull and weathered, its freezing shell completely inert. It would not radiate Kjeragandr’s power, nor would it echo with Her divine will.

But Enya knew that for the Grand Elder, silence was its own kind of verdict.

The experienced old cleric possessed a hundred different ways to interpret a non-existent divine oracle, easily twisting the goddess’s silence into a condemnation of Ernst. Once those words were spoken, Ernst would face the absolute worst the temple had to offer.

He would be scourged in the public square, exiled to the highest peaks to freeze to death, or chained to a jagged crag to be slowly pecked apart by wild Beastbirds. Kjerag possessed no rigid criminal code; the punishment for a ‘sinner’relied entirely upon the cruel imagination of the presiding judge.’Only I can save him!’

Enya’s hands trembled beneath her sleeves. She had never been so terrified, nor had she ever truly loved her exalted position. The title of Saintess was a suffocating shackle, a permanent reminder of Enciodes’s cold pragmatism. But in this fleeting moment, she felt a surge of immense gratitude for the robes she wore. The Saintess of Kjerag undoubtedly held the ultimate, unquestionable authority to interpret any matter concerning Kjeragandr.

The Grand Elder could certainly use his political weight to prevaricate, mislead the masses, or outright block her from exercising that authority—but only if she remained isolated in her chambers, unaware of the proceedings.

Now, she was standing right here on the plaza.

As long as she was physically present, the right to interpret the Holy Stone’s silence belonged solely to her. If she stepped forward and declared the ‘divine oracle’ first, not even the Grand Elder could silence her without committing heresy.

“Come on.”

A faint, almost imperceptible voice seemed to brush against her ear. Enya flinched, snapping her head around, but the freezing wind revealed no one standing close enough to whisper.

‘Perhaps I’m just too nervous.’

Enya forced a steady breath into her lungs, burying her fear beneath a mask of serene devotion as she waited for the final seconds to bleed away.

Below the elevated platform of the Holy Stone, Enciodes was equally prepared.

He lowered his gaze, his icy eyes flicking to the mechanical watch strapped to his wrist. The hour hand was creeping steadily toward nine o’clock. The ten-minute grace period was practically over.

Barring any impossible miracles, the Holy Stone would remain a lifeless rock. The Grand Elder would then eagerly step to the edge of the stage, project his voice to the gathered masses, and declare that he had received Kjeragandr’s inspiration—subsequently pronouncing Ernst guilty of treason against the faith.

The moment that verdict fell, the Holy Stone Plaza would erupt into a frenzy.

And frenzy meant chaos.

Enciodes had already positioned the elite Snowcap Patrol along the surrounding mountain slopes and cliffs, their armor completely buried beneath layers of natural snow. The second the crowd broke into an uproar, his hidden forces would surge forward to violently suppress the Paleroche Family’s guards. Degenbrecher, the Black Knight currently standing at his side as a bodyguard, would launch herself onto the stage, rip Ernst from the temple’s grasp, and drag him to a waiting messenger at the foot of the mountain. From there, Ernst would be smuggled out of Kjerag entirely.

It was a blunt, simple contingency, leaving little room for error. The only unpredictable variable was Ernst himself.

But Degenbrecher was hardly a gentle caretaker. If Ernst stubbornly refused to flee, there was a very high probability she would simply knock him unconscious and carry him out like a sack of grain. Enciodes had explicitly authorized her to temporarily incapacitate his brother if the situation demanded it.

Now, they merely had to wait for the clock to strike.

Far below, at the foot of the holy mountain.

Luther Magnus and Cliff, the CEO of Blacksteel Worldwide, sat in a quiet pavilion. Lacking the religious authority to ascend the mountain and watch the trial in person, they were forced to wait for the verdict from afar.

Just before the hour hand locked onto nine, Cliff’s secure phone vibrated against the table. The Sankta elder shot Luther a mild, apologetic smile before picking up the device. “Yes?”

“Boss, this is Liskarm. We’ve encountered a specific complication.” The capable, highly disciplined voice of the Vouivre operator filtered through the speaker.

Cliff raised a brow, casually tapping the speakerphone button and setting the device back down. “Speak.”

“Our scouts have identified a massive presence of armed personnel lying in ambush along the cliffs surrounding the Karlan Temple,” Liskarm reported smoothly. “Rough estimates put them at nearly a hundred combatants. They have the Holy Stone Plaza entirely surrounded. Your orders?”

“Armed personnel?” Luther Magnus clicked his tongue, shooting Cliff a sidelong glance. “It seems we aren’t the only ones looking to make a move during this little trial.”

Cliff merely smiled, his posture entirely relaxed. “Ignore them. focus on the safety of the primary target above all else. As long as the target is not directly threatened, the rest of the mountain can burn for all we care.”

“Understood.” Liskarm cut the connection with military efficiency.

Cliff steepled his fingers, looking back toward Luther with absolute calm. “Rest assured, my friend. You can place your complete faith in the professionalism of my operators.”

“Prime Minister Ernst will not suffer a single scratch. He will remain securely in his seat of power. You need not harbor any anxiety over this matter, precisely because you chose Blacksteel Worldwide.”

“Naturally.” Luther nodded, a satisfied gleam in his eye as he watched the second hand tick toward nine.

High above, on the freezing expanse of the Holy Stone Plaza, the Grand Elder finished silently counting out six hundred seconds. His wrinkled eyelids snapped open.

He turned his head slowly, his gaze locking onto the sacred rock. Exactly as he had anticipated, the pale stone sat motionless upon its pedestal. It did not glow. It did not radiate heat. It did not float, nor did it shatter.

No miracle graced the mountain.

The Grand Elder shifted his gaze toward Ernst, who stood proudly near the center of the stage. The old cleric’s eyes dripped with mocking triumph. ‘Ha. Look at you. Everything falls perfectly into my palm.”Since you paraded around claiming innocence, swearing you acted only for the future of Kjerag, then why does the great goddess Kjeragandr care nothing for your life? Why does She offer no revelation to save you?’He eagerly searched Ernst’s face, desperate to savor a flicker of regret, panic, or despair. But infuriatingly, Ernst did not even spare the Grand Elder a passing glance. Instead, the young man kept his eyes fixed firmly on the inert Holy Stone, a mysterious, almost shameless smile playing at the corners of his lips.’You still dare to smile?’

A vicious spike of anger ignited in the Grand Elder’s chest. He let out a cold snort, tearing his gaze away from the boy. He took a heavy step forward, preparing to address the breathless crowd and deliver his fabricated divine oracle.

But before his boot could fully touch the stone tiles, a flash of silver-gray fabric swept past him, smoothly intercepting his path and claiming the exact spot he had meant to stand.

“Saintess?” The Grand Elder stared in utter bewilderment at the young girl blocking the Holy Stone. A terrifying, impossible conjecture suddenly seized his mind.

‘Wait, she wouldn’t dare—’

He lunged forward, desperate to clamp a hand over Enya’s mouth, but he was too late. The girl’s voice, usually so soft and compliant, rang out across the plaza with absolute, unshakable authority.

“Ten minutes have passed! The benevolent goddess Kjeragandr has delivered Her ruling!”

“The Holy Stone, as pure and flawless as the mountain itself, has reflected the inner soul of Ernst SilverAsh. Its surface bears no darkness, no cracks, and no defilement! This is absolute proof of his innocence! Kjeragandr has shielded this child of God, recognizing his pure devotion to our land!”

Enya’s voice echoed fiercely against the surrounding peaks. The moment the words left her lips, the entire plaza plunged into a suffocating, eerie silence.

The massive crowd was completely paralyzed by shock. They could not comprehend how Ernst, a man the Grand Elder had spent weeks painting as a treacherous sinner, had suddenly earned the goddess’s ultimate forgiveness. Yet, not a single soul dared to voice an objection. Enya SilverAsh might be the accused’s sister, but she was first and foremost the Saintess of Kjerag. She spoke for Kjeragandr. She could not—she dared not—lie to them. To falsify a divine oracle was the gravest taboo in their religion, an act that would surely invite immediate divine smiting!

Down in the crowd, Enciodes’s stoic facade finally cracked.

He stared at the stage in genuine shock. He had never calculated that Enya would step into the crossfire. To stand in the center of the temple’s power, hijack the trial, and brazenly fabricate a divine oracle to declare Ernst innocent—it was madness!

Enciodes knew perfectly well she was lying. The stone hadn’t done a single thing. Both his sister and the Grand Elder were simply preparing to lie through their teeth beneath the goddess’s gaze, but Enya had drawn her blade first.

‘But how did she find the nerve? Since when did my sister harbor such reckless courage?’Beside him, Degenbrecher tilted her head slightly, her sharp eyes dropping to the seated Enciodes. Her silent, questioning gaze was clear:’The board just flipped. Do I still extract him?’

Enciodes’s mind raced, his expression shifting rapidly as he weighed the collapsing variables. Finally, he ground his teeth together, uncurling his right fist and pressing his open palm downward in a sharp, definitive motion.

The signal was absolute: Pause the extraction, but hold all positions.

His political instincts screamed that the Grand Elder would never swallow this defeat peacefully.

Up on the stage, the Grand Elder stood frozen, his blood boiling with a mixture of deep shock and lethal rage. He was trapped.

His previous speeches had practically nailed Ernst to a cross of treason. He had spent months laying the groundwork for this exact moment, intending to use Ernst’s execution to terrify the reformists and permanently cement his own absolute authority over Karlan Temple.

Now, with a few breathless sentences from a puppet Saintess, his entire grand design was crumbling into ash!

He was completely cornered. If Ernst was officially declared innocent by the Saintess, how could the temple ever justify executing him later?

Worse, if he simply backed down and accepted her ruling, his passionate, fiery condemnations from just moments ago would look like the ravings of a bitter old fool. His prestige would evaporate. The masses would realize he held no true connection to the divine.

This was no longer a petty political squabble. Enya’s reckless intervention had just put a knife to his political and physical survival!

‘How can I just roll over and wait for death?’

A feral, vicious glint ignited in the Grand Elder’s eyes. Enya had worn the robes for barely a decade; he had ruled the temple’s shadows for most of his life. He had broken stronger wills than hers.

The hierarchy of Karlan Temple was a mountain of its own. Ask anyone in Kjerag who truly held the reins of power. Was it the cloistered Saintess? Or was it the Grand Elder?

‘If you dare to stab me in the back, little girl, then prepare to bleed. I will drag you down with me!’

Before the stunned masses below could even process the Saintess’s decree, the Grand Elder closed the distance. He slammed his heavy, weathered hand down onto Enya’s shoulder, his fingers digging into her collarbone with enough brutal force to make her face twist in sudden pain.

Enya gasped, turning her head only to meet the Grand Elder’s contorted, furious snarl. He drew in a massive breath and roared over the plaza, his voice dripping with venomous accusation:

“Saintess! How dare you distort the sacred oracle of the great goddess Kjeragandr!”

The accusation struck the crowd like a physical blow. Two absolute authorities of Karlan Temple were now openly tearing each other apart on the sacred stage. No matter who survived this clash, the temple’s untouchable prestige would be permanently scarred.

But to the Grand Elder, burning the temple’s reputation was infinitely preferable to watching his power be stolen by a treacherous little girl and her reformist brothers.

Triggered by his explosive, violent shout, the paralyzed crowd finally snapped. The Holy Stone Plaza instantly erupted into total, deafening chaos.