Clergy, huh? Well, even the Bible has angels getting punched out, so it's fine, right?
"—To wake and find Berserk Rider took her own life," Jeanne murmured. "I thought her will was stronger. To think we'd fall behind."
Her words carried the weight of sensing Rider's demise.
"Her reason clashed with madness, leaving her half-formed," Olga-Marie said over the comms. "Too much self-restraint can be a flaw. Still, she fought with all she had. That golden one… we can't underestimate him."
"Oh, Jeanne…" Marie sighed. "Weren't you supposed to forget that golden pest?"
"Forget him?!" Jeanne snapped, her voice flaring. "No way! This time, I'll crush him! I'll bring him along—and the newly summoned Servants too!"
Swish! She donned her flag and fur cloak with a flourish.
"Contact Berserk Assassin too! And Berserk—ugh, too complicated!"
Stomp! Jeanne's boot hit the ground, her seething anger far from cooled.
"Knight of the Lake, Lancelot! Executioner, Charles-Henri Sanson!"
A knight clad in black armor and a young man in a long coat stepped forward.
"—Urrrr…"
"Here," Sanson replied curtly.
"Prepare the wyverns," Jeanne commanded. "Follow me. Rampage as you please—slaughter them all."
"Leave it to me," Sanson said. "Beheading a queen is a task fit for an executioner."
"Lancelot, I'm counting on you especially," Jeanne added, her eyes blazing. "Kill that golden fool—absolutely, definitely, no matter what!"
"—"
"Jeanne, act as your heart desires!" Gilles urged, his voice fervent. "To France that betrayed you, to the world, to God—repay their mockery with vengeance! Burn and destroy in your righteous fury!"
"Of course," Jeanne said, her tone resolute. Then, softly, "Hey, Gilles."
He paused, meeting her gaze.
"Which is the real one—her or me?"
"It's obvious!" Gilles declared, his voice blazing. "You, who rose in righteous anger against betrayal, who wields hatred against scorn, who stands against God's mockery—you are Jeanne! Jeanne d'Arc, none other!"
His impassioned words echoed through the hall.
"You rose with natural emotions, exercising your rightful justice. You were destroyed, so you destroy—there's no impurity in that. You are the true Jeanne d'Arc!"
"…Right," Jeanne said, a faint smile crossing her lips. "Gilles, you've always supported me."
"Of course—"
"—'Seek comfort from your guardian,'" she quoted.
"—"
Gilles froze, as did Jeanne, like machines locked in a glitch.
"…Did I say something?" Jeanne asked, blinking. "For some reason, that gaudy golden pest flashed through my mind."
"No, no," Gilles said quickly. "Just idle words meant to sway you—nothing more."
"Good," Jeanne said. "Then I'm off."
"Be as you are, Jeanne…" Gilles murmured.
The Dragon Witch, Jeanne d'Arc, took flight.
"—You noticed, King of Heroes…" Gilles whispered, his voice strained, echoing in the castle's halls. "My wish… the core of Jeanne d'Arc—!"
Sniff… sob… sniff…
On the morning of departure, as Vimana's ether reserves were refilled, Jeanne's voice crackled through the comms.
"What's with the racket?" Gilgamesh said, annoyed. "Begging's for elsewhere."
"Saint Martha… Saint Martha…" Jeanne sobbed.
Martha—the Berserk Rider from yesterday.
Following her advice, the group had set their sights on Lyon, seeking a dragon-slayer.
"She told you to move on," Gilgamesh said. "Even saints can't always fulfill their duties. That's what Servants are."
"I know…" Jeanne replied, her voice heavy. "But it's sad… I thought if I spoke with her—fist to fist—we could understand each other. Reality's harsh, unlike stories…"
Stories?
"What are you reading?" Gilgamesh asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Some modern novels and… manga, they call it!" Jeanne said. "Shonen Jump! Light novels! I thought we could reconcile perfectly, but… I was naive…"
"—Dabbling in modern culture, huh?" Gilgamesh said. "Keep it in check, or your soul'll rot."
"I'm fine!" Jeanne insisted. "I've got self-control! Alright, I'll carry on Saint Martha's will!"
"Oh?" Gilgamesh smirked. "How'll you inherit that iron fist?"
"When we return, can you set up a boxing gym?" Jeanne asked. "I'll train my strength! Her fight opened my eyes—prayer is a fist!"
She's serious about mastering prayer?
"Hm, interesting," Gilgamesh said, suppressing a laugh. "I'll consider it if I'm in the mood. Oh, and modern clergy apparently practice Bajiquan as a rule."
Really? I stifled a chuckle.
"Is that true?!" Jeanne gasped. "I didn't learn that when summoned…"
"I say it, so it's true," Gilgamesh replied. "Also, for endurance training, they eat blazing-hot mapo tofu morning, noon, and night."
"I had no idea…" Jeanne said. "You're so knowledgeable, King of Heroes! I'll ask Emiya-san to make some right away!"
Click. The comms cut off.
"That'll shut her up for a while," Gilgamesh muttered.
What even are modern clergy?
"Gil!" Rikka's voice rang out. "Everyone's aboard Vimana!"
Time to depart.
"Right—activate the anti-gravity drive! Raise the throne!"
At his command, Vimana soared, its wings unfurling like a golden eagle, majestic and grand.
"We'll gather intel, then head to Lyon!" Gilgamesh declared. "No forgotten items? Good! The skies are my domain—crossing them is a trivial feat!"
Saint Martha, the fist-wielding saint who clashed with Jeanne.
We carry your guidance in our hearts as we press forward.
May we meet again, in a kinder form.
"King of Heroes," Jeanne called out as they took off.
"What? Everyone's got the same mopey face today," Gilgamesh said, glancing at her.
"It's nothing big," Jeanne said, her voice soft. "I…"
"Hm?"
"If I get the chance, I want to fall in love," she said. "A love so profound it sears into my being."
Her face was bright, her doubts from the battle with Martha seemingly gone.
"No more calling me a loveless flag-bearer!" she added.
She was hung up on that? My bad.
"No idea if any man could keep up with a fortress like you," Gilgamesh teased. "Start with reading and writing. A love letter like a worm's scrawl will only disappoint."
"I know, I know!" Jeanne huffed. "What's with your endless insults?!"
"It's the art of pleasure—striking the heart precisely!" Gilgamesh laughed. "Enough talk—let's go! Take off, Vimana!"
Love, huh?
She'll find it, I'm sure. Jeanne's tough, but she's still a girl.
I hope she meets someone wonderful, someone to match her resilient soul.
Even a Servant deserves that much, I believe.
"Shonen Jump, light novels… modern culture's wild!"
"Right?" Rikka grinned. "Okita-san's my top pick! When it comes to entertainment, Japan's unmatched!"
"Okita-san! I want to know more—about culture!"
"You got it! How about we watch some anime next?"
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