Facts have once again proven that Jalter is a lovely woman.
After hearing Arthur's words, she became like a little girl receiving a confession—shy and immature, yet unwilling to let the other party notice. She tried to feign indifference, even disgust, but couldn't act the part convincingly. In the end, she could only blush and speak venomously, though she signed the contract without hesitation.
A shy JK girl?
No, at this moment, Jeanne d'Arc Alter was more like a little girl trying her best to hide her inner joy, only to have her clumsiness give her away.
"You really are very cute, Miss Jeanne."
Arthur's offhand praise only deepened Jeanne Alter's blush. She murmured something like a flustered puppy, then gradually fell silent.
Seeing this, Arthur felt even happier.
Staying among the enemy for so long had proven worthwhile. He'd acquired a toy as interesting as Black Jeanne—though calling her a "toy" was far too easy to misunderstand. Let's put it another way: he had found Black Jeanne, a woman who made people want to tease her endlessly. That made him very happy.
The contract signing proceeded smoothly.
Once Jeanne Alter scrawled her crooked signature on the parchment, the binding took effect immediately. An invisible link was forged between them. Because the contract had been written by Merlin, even though neither party truly understood magic, they could now sense each other's emotional fluctuations, as though connected by spiritual resonance.
There was no doubt: Jeanne d'Arc Alter was very happy at that moment.
And Arthur—he was just as pleased.
They exchanged glances. In that instant, Arthur understood everything. He no longer tried to hide his emotions, and his smile grew even more sincere.
Jeanne Alter glared fiercely at him. "What are you smiling at?! Do you think you can do whatever you want just because I'm your Servant now?!"
But no matter how hard she tried to sound angry, it was no use.
Thanks to the contract's power, Jeanne Alter's emotions were transmitted directly and vividly into Arthur's mind.
Yes—joy.
On the surface, she looked indignant and humiliated. But deep inside, she was thrilled. Such a twisted personality... just like me.
I have to hand it to you, Merlin—you finally did something useful.
Fortunately, after spending a few days with her, Arthur had grown familiar with Jeanne Alter's temperament. No matter how she acted, as long as he played along and made her feel respected, she would calm down quickly.
"All right, let's get going. I'd rather not run into a certain emperor. You feel the same way, don't you?" Arthur said. "Need to grab anything before we leave? Let's move fast. Don't worry—I won't give you a reason to regret this."
Though really, there wouldn't be time for regrets anyway.
If you don't give yourself the chance to regret, there's nothing to regret. (Solid logic.)
Once the decision was made, Arthur simply disguised himself. He had nothing to pack and headed straight out of the camp.
In truth, it wouldn't have been difficult for Arthur to stay.
His disguised identity was that of a Roman advance force magician. The other magi who had come with Lucius were all his allies. If he could prove his identity to them, he could remain with the Roman army. Magicians were an eccentric bunch anyway—nobody would be alarmed if they wore masks.
If he demonstrated enough talent, he might even be promoted to a military adviser and gain control over the Roman forces, potentially bringing the war to a swift end.
But after weighing it all calmly, staying didn't seem worth it.
Once Lucius possessed the Holy Grail, a special field would form around him, isolating him from clairvoyant detection. Even if Arthur used a communication crystal, the magic signals would be disrupted by the Holy Grail's interference.
Without Arthur overseeing things, and without tactical communication, Britain's forces would suffer.
With that in mind, Arthur slowed his pace, much to Jeanne Alter's irritation.
"Hey! Hurry up."
"Relax. It's times like this when we need to act normal. Just play it cool. You're taking me out—ordinary soldiers won't dare to question you. They might not even say anything," Arthur said, tugging his hood over his head.
But could such a thing really work?
After all, Jeanne d'Arc was famous for being reckless.
In ordinary human history, Jeanne led the French army to defeat the English. She was hailed as a saint who saved her country. Before her arrival, France was reeling under English assault, its homeland lost, its monarchy powerless. No one believed they could win even a single battle.
All of that changed with her arrival.
Yet she didn't use any revolutionary strategies. She relied on one thing—recklessness.
That's right. Jeanne d'Arc simply charged forward.
With the morale of the French forces in tatters, every battle became a desperate, frontal clash—and somehow, she won.
Tactics? Strategy?
Forget it. The best tactic is to kill the enemy before they kill you. The best strategy is to crush the enemy before you fall.
And so, Jeanne d'Arc Alter—reborn from those records—was no less unruly.
Subtlety was never her strong suit.
As if proving the point, the moment they approached the gate, they were stopped by soldiers.
"...Didn't you say this would go smoothly?" Jeanne Alter whispered to Arthur.
Arthur's lips twitched. "Honestly, did you think your behavior just now was normal?"
With a sigh, the two turned to face the Roman soldiers, both feeling a headache coming on.
"What's the meaning of this? Are you blocking my way?" Jeanne Alter demanded.
"N-no, Lady Jeanne. It's just… since His Majesty is present, we thought you might wish to see him."
"Huh? See him? You want me to visit that bastard emperor?" Jeanne Alter snapped, as if gravely insulted. She twisted her face in disgust. "What a joke. Why would I ever want to see him?"
Indeed, while Jeanne Alter was still in Rome, she had made no effort to hide her dislike for Lucius.
There wasn't the faintest trace of respect in her.
Given the chaos she'd caused recently, the soldiers should've been more than happy to let her go.
No one in their right mind would seek trouble.
Except, of course, those with a death wish.
Unfortunately, the soldiers now blocking their path seemed to be precisely that sort.
This is bad.
Arthur sighed internally and turned a wary eye toward the corner of the makeshift city wall.
-End Chapter-
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