sntlla

These will suffice.

Branches, both old and new, are woven together, and crushed tender leaves are scattered on the ground.

Through Santalla’s ritual, they have become the symbols of her intent.

Arbora, Soknarferd.

May the past tie to the present, whilst the tree erects tall.

May the eyes ever keep vigil, be they standing or fallen.

All-Father, spirits of ancestors, souls who roam upon the earth.

Bear witness.... Bear witness to me!

Heed and answer the plea of Simone, daughter of the Santalla tree.

Cleanse the land of its filth, and bring back Sami's purity!

Twigs entwine into 'Arbora,' and leaves patrol on 'Soknarferd.'

The proclamations that answer only the beckons of Foldartals now manifest at the call of the shaman's call.

The collapse ceases in an instant, and nature begins to regain its former vitality.

However, at the edge of the forest, a dense dark fog refuses to disperse.

This pestilence and the source of most of Sami's corruption.

The Black Mark...!

(Heavy breathing sounds)

Within an instant, the snow and ice around Santalla coagulate into a sharp blade darting at the figure.

An Emperor's Blade can finish off any unprepared challenger in a blink of eye.

And in the face of a Demon-taken Blade, her chance is even grimmer.

*Pant*... *pant*...

She can choose to press on her attack, which would only send more Demon escaping from the enemy before her.

But if nothing is done, it would butcher all life around them, corrupt the earth, and trample over every inch of Sami land.

Even though the blessings summoned by the Foldartal are still in effect, Santalla still had to consider the calamity each attack would bring.

This isn't a battle.

And she is relieved for the fact.

The Black Mark staggers forward, stepping out and taking an offensive stand.

However, with its next step it disappears into thin air right before her eyes.

Under nature's purification, the collapsal had vanished without a trace.

It ran away?

But that's...

Is there anything I can do to help?

Not yet, we just spoke to the Rhodes Island operators in Skarphaket. They coordinated with members of an expedition team that had just set off, and sent them sufficient support.

Where is the last expedition team set off now?

They should have made their way across the forest as we're talking. It's just some mountain paths they will have to walk before they enter the icefield.

They were near the location of the expedition team, and though calamities appear unpredictably, there are always omens...

For example...

If there is more life, more beings returning to nothingness.

I'm going to have to let Typhon know at once.

O noble Sami, please forgive me my transgression.

Santalla lifts her staff and plunges it into the earth.

The frost on the ground forms shapes as she wills.

Enginna... Enginna...

O Sami, I know you watch over their fate.

Please take this omen, and send it to my friend.

Following her request, the pattern of ice rapidly disperses, and the ground is once again as dry as ever.

Everyone's safety depends on you, Typhon.

I... still have more I was entrusted with.

Santalla had hunted a hornbeast and picked some fruit.

These were to be presented as sacrificial offerings to the ancestors.

It wasn't much, but it would suffice to comfort the Colddeath ancestors.

Father, Mother, Snowpriest Eras, and all the ancestors.

By the will of the clan leader, I come here to offer up these sacrificial offerings to you.

May the ancestors protect our people, care for their restless hearts, and guide their way in their dreams.

I also hope...

That people will remember you. That you will be spared the worry of being forgotten.

I look forward to it.

With a burst of flame, the sacrificial offerings disappear into the fire and enter the food basket of the ancestors.

All throughout the night, Santalla stares at the flames. Once they've burnt out, she slowly falls asleep.

Huh?

This order is being sent to all search teams. An area believed to be damaged by Obsidian was discovered. Nearby teams are requested to act immediately. Confirm the reports at the specified coordinates and withdraw. Do NOT enter the damaged area.

Repeat, do NOT—

Obsidian?

That's the direction the Black Mark came from.

The Ursus are still hiding something!

Santalla glances at the sacrificial site and where the Foldartals had appeared.

The offerings had been reduced to ash, the living and dead branches were still entwined.

She thinks for a moment, then scatters a handful of ash over the roots of the branches.

Then, she leaves the woodlands towards the direction indicated by the Ursus.

She would never return.

These are the coordinates.

It's already deep in the icefields. What could the Ursus be planning?

I can feel the corruption in this place...

Is it... here?

Fierce snowstorms shroud the area, as if trying to hide something.

But before Santalla's will, the snowstorm seems to dissipate.

It finally unveils the truth within:

Three Royal Guards, wrapped in Dominion.

Fear grips her soul for a moment, and something seems to come back from the void, ready to turn its sights on her location.

However, the snowstorm blows in just in time, shrouding her in its winds.

(Corrupted or not, they could have killed me then and there.)

(What happened here?)

She composes herself and waits until her mood has steadied before stepping out of the snowstorm. Then she walks towards the edge of the Dominion.

At its center, the three Royal Guards remain motionless.

This time, she can see them clearly.

Each of them had pierced their own hearts with an Ursine sabre.

Maybe it was Originium Arts, maybe some kind of spell.

Their bodies hadn't been blown over by the winds, nor were they used by demons.

They maintained the posture of their final moments, before being engulfed by their own Dominion.

Santalla then notices that they are positioned as if there were four of them, standing back-to-back before they were killed.

In the empty space, there is only an Ursine saber stuck in the snow.

Is this where you came from, Black Mark?

The great deeds of the Ursus were far outweighed by their evil ones.

But here, at least, what these heroes had done with their lives was more than enough to move the Samifjod.

(Sami had no other intentions. The snowstorms protect this place to guard these people in their sleep.)

(I salute you, warriors.)

(The Ursus aren't far from here.)

(I'll remove the snowstorms, so you can safely return home.)

At the same time, however, there is something on her mind.

(So even the collective acts of the entire Ursus war machine can only end like this...)