Gritted teeth. A seething heart.
"Gilles—!!"
In the heart of Orleans' stronghold, Jeanne stormed in, her voice a thunderclap as she summoned her loyal ally.
"Here stands Gilles de Rais!" he answered, his massive frame materializing with a flourish.
"I'm furious, livid! My blood's boiling, my insides are scorching!" Jeanne raged, her voice trembling with barely contained wrath. "Do something, Gilles! Do something about this fire in me!"
Her fury was a tempest, untamed and wild. Gilles' enormous eyes glistened with tears as he gazed upon her.
"What a tragic sight…" he murmured. "To witness such resplendent gold defile the sublime black radiance of your glory…"
"That gilded wretch! That golden fool! How dare he mock my flag!" Jeanne's voice cracked with venom, her fists clenched.
"My dragon banner, forged with my pride, my soul—how dare he—!!"
Flames erupted around her, a swirling inferno that grew, writhing like a living beast.
"He said I've never known luxury—called me a coward who fled salvation—claimed he's greater than the white me—!!"
"Jeanne, please, calm yourself…" Gilles urged, his voice soft, pleading.
"Shut up!" she snapped.
Thud! Her boot slammed into Gilles' gut. He crumpled, collapsing with a groan.
"Oh… such a grievous blow, steeped in hatred and humiliation…" Gilles wheezed, clutching his stomach. "This Gilles de Rais… shall engrave it upon my soul…"
"Don't say such creepy things!" Jeanne shrieked, pacing the room in a frenzy. "Argh, enough—enough!"
"I didn't lose! I didn't flee! I don't need luxury! I am, I am, I am—!!"
"Oh, Jeanne," Gilles said, rising slowly. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, his voice soothing, like a parent to a wayward child.
"It's alright. Let cruel words flow past you like a willow in the wind. Take them to heart, and even the mightiest soul will shatter. In a storm, it's not the great oak that survives, but the humble grass that bends."
"But that doesn't satisfy me!" Jeanne cried, her voice raw with defiance.
"It's fine, Jeanne," Gilles continued. "You needn't forget your anger, nor quell it."
"Savor it slowly, let it seep into your core. The humiliations you've endured will fuel your fire, and the insults will stoke your wrath, exalting your brilliance. Understand, Jeanne—you are the Dragon Witch, ordained to hate and destroy. Act as you will. The injustices you've suffered are but fleeting dreams. Now, breathe deeply. One, two, three…"
"…Right," Jeanne murmured.
Following his words, she steadied her breath, her fury ebbing like a receding tide.
"I met no one," she said softly. "That insufferable golden pest, the other me—they're all just dreams. Right, Gilles?"
"Precisely so," he replied with a nod. "You must be weary from tonight's ordeal. Rest in your chambers. This Gilles will always be at your side."
"…Understood. I'll sleep. Goodnight, Gilles."
"Sweet dreams, Jeanne—"
"Did our witch fall asleep already?" a voice chimed, light and teasing.
Moments later, Berserk Rider appeared, her presence as sudden as a shadow's flicker.
"Jeanne, flushed with rage, has ventured to Salem to soothe her heart and soul," Gilles explained. "Now, what business brings you?"
"A message—and a proposal," Rider replied.
"Oh?"
"'Seek comfort from your guardian,' they said."
Gilles froze, every motion stilled, as if time itself had paused.
"…What's wrong?" Rider asked, tilting her head.
"Nothing," Gilles said, his voice tight. "A trivial matter. I'll relay the message."
"And your proposal?"
Rider's eyes gleamed. "Let me pursue them."
"You'd finish their Master yourself?" Gilles asked, intrigued.
"Berserk Lancer and Berserk Assassin's Spirit Origins were nearly destroyed," she said. "It'll take time for them to recover."
"And frankly," she added, "they're an eyesore. Especially that tacky golden one."
Gilles' abyss-like gaze fixed on her. "Indeed."
"Jeanne's spirit is in tatters," he continued. "Only you and Saber remain nimble among us. The wyverns need replenishing as well."
"Can you handle it, Berserk Rider?"
"Leave it to me," she said, her voice sharp with intent. "There's something I must say."
"Wow! What a sight! The sky so vast, the moon so close—it's like stepping into a picture book!"
Not long ago, a mysterious girl named Marie, accompanied by two men, had offered to join their journey.
"What a storm of a king! The miracle of Orleans, Jeanne d'Arc! And two charming little companions! Won't you hear me out?"
"Who are you?" Gilgamesh demanded.
"Greetings! I'm Marie! I want to talk with you all—so much to say! I'd love to do it in your secret hideout. Indulge my selfish whim, please?"
"I'm Amadeus," one of the men cut in. "We're not your enemies, I can promise that. Shady as we seem. This guy's a jerk, and she's a master at flattery, but that's about it."
"How rude, Amadeus!" Marie pouted. "Calling me a flatterer! I just love everyone, that's all!"
"More oddballs, Master," Gilgamesh said, glancing over. "Your call. Bring them along?"
"If they're not enemies, sure!" the Master replied.
"Settled, then," Gilgamesh declared.
"Thank you! You've got such an Amadeus vibe, stormy king!" Marie beamed. "I'm already your fan! So thrilled to join you!"
"My charisma is fearsome," Gilgamesh laughed. "Though I've a queen already. Hah! Let's move—time waits for no one!"
You know, Master, came a thought, it's called an Imaginary Something-or-Other.
"The household's getting crowded, and the iron steed's at capacity," Gilgamesh announced. "I'll keep my true power sealed for now and show you my other ride!"
High in the sky, where no wyverns soared, a golden vessel gleamed with futuristic elegance.
"The iron steed's upgrades aren't ready, so this is a sneak peek," Gilgamesh boasted. "Behold—the pinnacle of opulence, the golden ship Vimana!"
Vimana. A craft that darted at the speed of thought, propelled by ether, dancing freely through the heavens.
The Gilgil-Machine couldn't carry Gil, Mash, Jeanne, and the two newcomers, so this was the substitute.
"Vimana—what a splendid name!" Marie exclaimed. "But… Hero King, could it be… you have even grander treasures? Is this glittering ship just a fraction of your jewel box?"
"Of course!" Gilgamesh roared. "My wealth knows no bounds!"
"Oh my… I must see more of your treasures!" Marie squealed.
"Marie, stop," Amadeus groaned. "This guy's the limitless type."
"Limitless? How rude, Amadeus!" Marie scolded. "We must call him King—it's only proper!"
"No matter," Gilgamesh said, waving a hand. "Your voice is pleasing to my ears!"
"Guess I'm king-approved too," Amadeus smirked. "Big shots recognize big shots."
"We're flying!" the Master shouted.
"Yes, Senpai! The ground's so far below!" Mash added, awestruck.
"You all…" Jeanne began.
"Let's save the talk for when we land?" Marie suggested. "I'd love to be friends, Jeanne d'Arc!"
"Then we're off, Master!" Gilgamesh declared. "No black fighters in sight? None? Launch!"
The lively ship soared through the boundless night sky.
Deep breaths for your anger. May Salem's peace be yours.
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