57 Chapter 57
As the light gradually diminished, a normal scenario settled in. However, this normalcy provided the commander with a sharper view of the battlefield. He observed attentively as the golden barrier moved away from Orleans, keeping it protected but at a greater distance. The commander was beginning to sense Jeanne's sinister intentions, although his suspicions were mere conjecture.
"Soldiers, prepare for close combat!" the commander shouted solemnly. His grave expression displayed the gravity of the situation. He walked determinedly to his imposing horse, mounted it swiftly, and adjusted the metal helmet on his head. He was ready to face the imminent battle. Uncertainty hung in the air as the commander was unsure if he would have to confront Jeanne, but his hope remained alive.
"Fight! For your families! For your land! And for God!" proclaimed Jeanne, now brimming with intense energy. She no longer seemed like the exhausted woman from before. In her thoughts, she fervently thanked God for assisting her, feeling compelled to make every moment count. Her presence on the wall was imposing, inspiring those around her.
"Advance, soldiers!" exclaimed Gilles, raising his sword firmly before mounting his steed and galloping swiftly toward the city gate. The sight of his courage and determination infected the other soldiers, who, on horseback or on foot, grasped their weapons and followed in the same direction.
"Are you going to stand there?" Griffin questioned, climbing onto his horse and confronting François, who was gazing at Jeanne with a pensive expression. "I can't. Someone needs to stay here to protect her," François replied, gripping his bow firmly.
"What are you talking about? She doesn't need help, you fool! Besides, others are willing to support her in the same way. We should be by her side, giving her as much support as possible," argued Griffin, lightly kicking François' arm. François glared at him with a hostile look, ready to return the blow with his bow. However, Griffin smiled and extended his hand to François, showing understanding and camaraderie. François sighed, accepted the extended hand, and mounted the horse.
"Sir, should we use the catapults?" asked the soldier, his hands anxiously agitated. He could barely contain his excitement at the thought of the enemy soldiers being decimated by the powerful siege machines.
"Use the catapults? Have you gone mad? What would they be for? They are too close to be effective. We will have to face them in close combat," reprimanded the commander, slapping the soldier's head for his suggestion. A look of discontent formed on the soldier's face, aware that this was the second slap he had received, predicting a lump on his head.
The commander attentively observed the army of Orleans advancing toward him, but surprisingly, they stopped upon reaching the limit of the golden barrier. They stared fixedly at the commander, just like the other soldiers who had followed different roads and also halted at the same line of protection. Outside the barrier, the English soldiers merely stared back at them.
"Fall back!" ordered the commander, already anticipating what was about to happen. The French soldiers sheltered by the golden barrier raised their bows and began to shoot arrows at the enemies. With dexterity, the commander made his horse retreat, and the other soldiers mimicked his movements, strategically withdrawing.
The soldiers who were following different routes also noticed the situation, but their reaction was too late to escape. However, the greater danger lay in François' presence on the battlefield. With impressive agility, he released two arrows in quick succession, hitting the soldiers' heads directly before they could even react. Despite François' accurate shots, the enemy soldiers didn't stop retreating; they were already far enough away to avoid direct confrontation.
Before the soldier could finish his sentence, his voice was interrupted by an arrow piercing his head. Terror spread among the nearby soldiers who witnessed another one of their comrades being struck down by a deadly arrow. Panic quickly spread through the group as they searched for an escape route. However, François continued to shoot his arrows with relentless precision, claiming the lives of soldiers attempting to flee. Some managed to run far enough, but others fell to the ground, victims of François' lethal arrows.
"What an impressive aim," commented Griffin, mounted on his horse beside François, as he admired the archer's skill. François, still on his horse, took the opportunity to tease Griffin playfully, "I would be even happier if someone important recognized my prowess." In response, Griffin gave François a friendly nudge with his elbow, both sharing a moment of camaraderie as they advanced together in the battle.
As the English soldiers retreated, those within the golden barrier, following Gilles' orders, decided to return to the city of Orleans. The clamor of victory echoed in their hearts, even though they hadn't managed to completely defeat the English. They knew it was only a matter of time until they achieved the desired victory.
Gilles approached Jeanne, concerned about the impact those events could have had on their plans. "I hope this hasn't affected the plan you devised," he expressed with apprehension. Jeanne, satisfied with the results achieved, offered a reassuring smile before losing consciousness.
"Jeanne!" exclaimed Gilles, rushing to catch her before her face hit the ground. Carefully, he carried her to receive the necessary medical treatment. The joy that enveloped the soldiers due to their recent achievements was momentarily overshadowed by concern for the health of the one who had aided them so much.
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Jeanne found herself in a place completely immersed in darkness, unable to discern her location. Everything around her seemed blurred and unfocused, hindering any form of interaction. However, suddenly, she found herself immersed in someone else's perspective, as if she were inside their body. That person, in turn, seemed to be trapped.
"Sir?" a familiar voice echoed in her mind, prompting Jeanne to attempt to establish some form of communication. Although she could hear and see what was happening, her ability to interact was limited. The person seemed confused and tried to understand what was happening. Unfamiliar words and hesitation permeated their expression.
"What the #$& are you talking about?" the person questioned, displaying their perplexity. Jeanne sensed the confusion and fear emanating from the person's voice, even though she didn't understand all the words spoken.
"They're getting closer! We need to eliminate him. For the good of everyone," a commanding voice echoed again in the person's mind. Jeanne struggled to identify the source of that voice, as it was unknown to her, but she noted its undeniable authority.
"@+( you are being judged by &#+#. Do you admit it?" a male voice was present, accusing the person and demanding a confession. Jeanne didn't recognize that voice; it was completely new to her.
The person looked around, observing the crowd that surrounded them. Although Jeanne couldn't see their face clearly, she knew that the person was trapped, seemingly satisfied with their actions. However, an indeterminate desire echoed within them, arousing restlessness in Jeanne. She couldn't define the nature of this desire, but she felt that something was yearned for deep within that person.
"Huh? $#+#? What is this?" the man suddenly panicked. Despite the blurry vision, Jeanne could partially discern the surroundings. The ground seemed to tremble, dirty mud emerged from the soil, and heavy footsteps were audible. The atmosphere became oppressive, as if the whole world was begging for help. People tried to escape, but the mud seemed to voraciously swallow them.
"You must pay! For everything!" A dark and piercing voice echoed through the environment, causing Jeanne to shudder. A familiar sensation ran down her spine, as if she had heard that voice before. She was certain of it. However, something prevented her from recognizing who it was or even forming a coherent thought.
"I came to save you, my dear. I said I would come. Even if I had to abandon everything, I would come. And here I am," proclaimed the mysterious figure with a voice filled with ominous promises. Jeanne struggled to see the person speaking clearly. However, she noticed that their short hair was as white as snow. In their hands, they held a lance that looked terrifying. The weapon was covered in mud, stained with red inscriptions and indecipherable lines. Jeanne couldn't decipher their meaning.
"$+&#+, you're alive," exclaimed Jeanne, sensing the contained joy in the person's voice, seemingly oblivious to the horrors happening around them.
"It's good to see you," Jeanne wanted to plead for the person to help others around them. However, a piercing pain ran through her being, a pain that was not physical but rather a torment in the soul. The person began to cry, tears flowing from their eyes like an unrestrained waterfall.
"Why are you crying? I'm here, don't cry," whispered Jeanne, feeling the man's touch within her being. It was a strangely familiar sensation, as if they had shared a common past. However, the person's tears continued to flow. "You are evil... It's you. To save the people of this world, I must eliminate you," the person uttered amidst their crying, slowly running their hands over the man's arms, covered in mud. The man didn't understand the meaning of the words spoken by the one who loved him. Why would he be called evil?
"What are you saying?" questioned the man, bewildered. However, as the person's hands reached his neck and suddenly tightened, he felt the impending suffocation. He tried to remove the hands that imprisoned him, but his strength, despite being immense, seemed futile against that power.
"Forgive me, the world must move on. But I will be the only one to suffer in this new world. No one else will suffer. All the evils of this world will be annihilated," muttered the person as the man began to lose consciousness. The mud that enveloped him started to be drawn out by the woman's hands, as if life itself were abandoning his body. The devouring mud around them also dissipated, absorbed by that enigmatic figure.
The man finally succumbed, not to asphyxiation, but because the mud that kept him alive left his body. Jeanne, who watched the entire scene, was paralyzed by shock. She felt all the emotions that afflicted the person. Pain, fear, anger, hatred, laziness. Every kind of emotion invaded that figure, transforming it into an incomprehensible entity. Jeanne couldn't articulate words, for she herself felt all those emotions, except one: happiness.
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"Jeanne! Jeanne!" Jeanne, who was unconscious, awakened at the sound of her name being called. Opening her eyes, she found Gilles, who showed great concern.
"I'm glad you woke up," sighed Gilles, relieved. He let out a moment of relaxation, although she was still lying down.
"Thank you, Gilles," Jeanne thanked as she rose from the bed.
"What are you doing? You need to rest," Gilles panicked, seeing her determination to get up so quickly after waking up.
"I'm fine. I've recovered. Don't worry," Jeanne replied, rising without apparent difficulty. However, the images of what she had dreamt or witnessed remained vivid in her mind.
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Chaldea, in an organization hallway.
"My knight, I'm on my way... I'll bring your gift," a childlike and angelic voice resounded through the corridors. It was the voice of a small girl wearing a silver armor adorned with Christmas decorations. Jeanne d'Arc Alter Santa Lily, as she was known. Suddenly, she stopped as if something had been transmitted directly to her mind. And then she fainted in the hallway.
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On a bustling beach, a golden-haired woman in a swimsuit called out excitedly, "Hey, King Arthur! Let's go!" However, shortly after, she collapsed.
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"Finally! My Jeanne! You have returned to life!" exclaimed a hunchbacked man to a magical circle on the ground. His eyes seemed displaced, resembling those of an owl. His appearance was peculiar, especially because of the garments he wore.
The magical circle activated, and from it emerged a woman with long pale blonde hair, unconscious. The sight left the summoner both confused and amazed.
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