Chapter 79: Jeanne's Light
The flickering warmth of a small fire cast long shadows against the stone walls of the secluded cabin.
Outside, the storm raged with relentless fury, wind howling through the trees as rain poured in torrents. Yet inside, the air was calm, save for the occasional sound of soft footsteps on the wooden floor.
Jeanne d'Arc moved with quiet grace, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of danger.
The Dhampir girl she had taken in—her name was Seraphine—sat huddled against the wall, her large, silvery eyes wide with fear, yet a flicker of hope danced within them as she watched Jeanne.
The Church's hunters had been closing in on the girl for days. An innocent caught between the crosshairs of two worlds—humanity and the supernatural.
Seraphine's father had been a vampire, and though she had inherited none of the monstrous traits, the hunters still considered her a dangerous creature, an abomination that needed to be purged.
Jeanne had heard the rumors, seen the way the Church had begun to turn its gaze on innocent half-breeds, and something deep inside her had snapped. This was not the faith she had sworn to. It was no longer the cause she had once believed in.
Jeanne moved to the table where a small bundle of herbs lay. She began to prepare a quick remedy for Seraphine, knowing that any misstep could cost them both their lives.
The girl's condition had worsened, her strength sapped by a few close encounters with the Church's hunters. She needed healing—desperately.
Jeanne carefully ground the herbs into a paste, her movements steady despite the chaos of the storm outside.
She was no longer the naive young exorcist she had once been. The reality of the world outside the Church's walls had begun to shape her, and she had seen enough bloodshed to understand what was truly at stake.
Her mind drifted for a moment—back to her training, back to the ideals she had once held so dearly. She had fought for the Church, for the idea of cleansing the world of evil. But now? Now, she questioned everything.
The door creaked open, a soft gust of wind blowing through the room. Jeanne's hand shot to the sword at her side, but she relaxed as she saw the figure standing in the doorway.
"Jeanne," a soft voice said from the shadows. "Are you certain of this?"
Jeanne glanced over, her gaze softening as she saw the familiar face of her closest companion in this venture—an older, more experienced exorcist named Xavier.
He had been a mentor of sorts, though his allegiance to the Church had always been tempered with a quiet disillusionment that mirrored her own.
"I'm certain," Jeanne replied firmly.
"She is innocent. The Church has lost its way, and I refuse to stand by while they destroy children like her."
Xavier stepped forward, his face unreadable in the dim light.
"And what of the Church? What of your vows?"
Jeanne didn't answer right away, her gaze drifting to the girl on the floor. Seraphine was sleeping, her breath shallow and unsteady. Jeanne's chest tightened at the sight. She had promised to protect her, no matter the cost.
"I swore an oath to protect the innocent," she said finally, her voice steady but tinged with sorrow.
"I will keep that vow, even if the Church no longer understands what that means."
Xavier's expression softened, but his eyes were full of concern.
"And what happens when they come for you? For both of you?"
Jeanne paused, feeling the weight of his question settle over her. She didn't know. She could only hope that, by the time the Church discovered her actions, it would be too late for them to stop her.
Meanwhile, in a distant chamber, Volundr sat at his desk, flipping through his War Journal. His fingers paused on a particular page, his eyes narrowing slightly.
A new report had come in. This one wasn't from a spy embedded in the Church's ranks, but rather from a trusted informant watching the actions of Jeanne d'Arc.
The information was brief, but it carried a weight that intrigued Volundr. Jeanne had sheltered a Dhampir girl from the Church's hunters.
He had not expected this, not from someone so firmly tied to the Church's doctrines. It was a rare act of mercy from someone who had once been bound by rigid ideals.
He leaned forward in his chair, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Loyal to good, not institutions. He added the line to her file, pleased with this new insight into her character.
Volundr's fingers hovered over the quill, but before he could write more, a soft chuckle interrupted his thoughts. Kuroka, who had been quietly observing from the doorway, stepped forward, a mischievous grin on her face.
"So, you're falling for the holy girl?" she teased, her voice light but knowing.
Volundr glanced up at her, a smirk forming on his own lips. "I fall for talent, Kuroka. And she's lethal."
Kuroka raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.
"Lethal, huh? A holy knight who's a softie for a Dhampir. I'm sure that'll turn out well."
Volundr chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"You don't understand. It's not about her softness—it's about her strength. She's a knight who fights for something greater than herself. That's rare. And it's what makes her dangerous."
Kuroka's smirk widened.
"So, you're thinking about recruiting her, then? A holy knight as part of your collection of misfits?"
Volundr's expression grew more serious, his gaze falling to the file once again.
"Not yet. But I'm watching. There's more to Jeanne than what the Church sees. She's a weapon... and, perhaps, an ally in a war that's coming."
Kuroka hummed thoughtfully, eyes narrowing as she considered Jeanne's potential.
"Just don't fall too hard, Volundr. You might get burned."
Volundr met her gaze, his own smile never wavering.
"The best weapons are forged in fire, Kuroka. And she's one of the finest blades I've ever seen."
As the night continued, Jeanne sat by the fire, her fingers gently brushing against Seraphine's forehead, her mind far from the sanctity of the Church's halls.
She was unsure of what lay ahead, of what would become of her and the girl she had taken under her protection.
But there was one thing she was sure of: she would not allow the world to break the innocent. Not while she still had breath in her lungs.
And somewhere, in the shadows, Volundr watched—ever the strategist, ever the observer. And he knew, without a doubt, that Jeanne's light would one day shine in his world.
End of Chapter 79.