"Just kidding."
Adam grinned down at the Jeanne d'Arc Alter in his arms, making it crystal clear she hadn't actually become his Servant.
Yet her first gut reaction was a sharp pang of disappointment.
She didn't even understand why.
In the next heartbeat, Jeanne d'Arc Alter realized what was happening. She turned her head and stared at him blankly. Their faces were so close that one tiny lean forward would have pressed their lips together.
She blinked once, twice. Then the full weight of her situation hit her, and a deep, embarrassed flush burned across her cheeks.
Forcing her body—already pushed far beyond its limits—to obey, she tore herself free from his hold and staggered back more than ten meters. But the sudden movement was too much. She crashed to the ground.
Face flaming red, she glared up at Adam with raw hatred, silently cursing him for pulling her into his arms in the first place.
At the same time, she finally registered her surroundings.
They stood in the middle of a massive crater, as if a huge slice of the earth had been carved away while the patch right around them remained untouched.
That could only mean one thing.
I was protected… by the enemy.
The realization hit hard. Her brows knitted tightly, confusion and disbelief written all over her face as she looked back at Adam and the others.
"Why did you save me?" she demanded. "I should be your enemy."
Adam let out a quiet sigh, the sound laced with something close to pity. He saw straight through the walls she was trying to hide behind. His expression turned serious.
Instead of answering her question, he spoke about her very existence.
"Jeanne d'Arc Alter, it seems you still refuse to accept the truth."
"You are not Jeanne d'Arc's dark side. You are nothing more than a living being Gilles de Rais (Caster) created using the Holy Grail."
"Do you understand what that means?"
"If you die here, you will not simply retire like other Heroic Spirits and wait to be resummoned. There is no seat for you on the Throne of Heroes, Jeanne d'Arc Alter."
"If you die here, you are gone. Truly gone."
"Even Chaldea could not bring you back."
The modified Chaldea summoning device had no way to capture her Spirit Origin after death. Unlike normal Servants, whose Saint Graphs returned to the Throne of Heroes in orderly fashion, hers would simply dissipate where she fell. The system had nothing to latch onto.
So if she died right now, there would be no second chance through Chaldea's summoning system.
Jeanne d'Arc Alter lowered her head, her expression darkening. Adam's words cut straight into the raw wound she had tried so hard to keep closed.
Every time she thought about it, her chest twisted with a bitter ache—like a knot that only tightened the harder she tried to pull it apart.
She knew he was right.
But admitting it meant accepting that her entire existence was nothing more than a substitute—an imitation of the ideal Jeanne d'Arc that lived only in someone else's mind.
The truth cut too deep. She had always refused to face it; the pain was more than her heart could bear. Her body had instinctively chosen to run from it.
Yet Adam had dragged the issue back into the open.
A storm of tangled emotions churned inside her—feelings she never wanted to relive. She clenched her teeth in fury, eyes sharp as daggers locked on Adam.
"Why are you bringing this up now?" she snarled, voice thick with agitation. "We're enemies, and I've already lost!"
"Why not just kill me instead of standing here lecturing?!"
"Are you trying to humiliate this fake all over again—in my mind, too?"
Her tone was explosive, like she had swallowed pure gunpowder. She forced herself up from a half-crouch into a fighting stance. But the endless battle had drained her completely. Just those few shouted words left her gasping, her body swaying on the edge of collapse.
Adam stood perfectly still across from her, watching in silence with no intention of moving.
Seeing him like that only made her angrier.
"What the hell are you waiting for? Do it already!!"
She spat the words with pure fury, showing zero will to fight back. She had already accepted her role as the defeated and the fate that came with it—ready for Adam to wipe her, an existence that should never have been born, completely off the map.
Everyone's attention was locked on the two of them. No one noticed the two extra figures who had quietly appeared among the group, listening silently to the entire exchange.
Adam seemed to reach a decision. He pointed forward and spoke softly to the self-destructive Jeanne d'Arc Alter before him.
"Jeanne d'Arc Alter, I didn't say any of that to humiliate you."
"It's because what comes next requires you to accept your true identity first."
"Huh?" She stared at him, utterly confused.
Adam walked slowly toward her as he continued.
"I want to give you a choice, Jeanne d'Arc Alter."
Her brows twisted even tighter. The implication felt like a slap.
"What do you mean? Are you seriously about to say you're letting me go?"
Her voice rose, hot with anger, but the outburst drained the last of her strength. She collapsed to the ground again.
"Pretty much. But more accurately… I'm offering you another path."
"Chaldea's summoning system can't call you, but I have a way to let you live on in Chaldea anyway."
"There, you won't be Jeanne d'Arc's dark side. You won't be anyone else's imitation."
"You'll simply be you."
"You can try living by your own rules—carving out a life that actually belongs to you."
Adam's calm, even voice struck straight at her heart, sending huge ripples through her soul.
Uncontrollably, her mind began turning his words over and over. They carried an almost hypnotic pull, tempting her.
But could she really do it?
Could she turn her back on everything she had done? Betray the Gilles de Rais (Caster) who had created her? Step into a brand-new life?
It felt like two tiny voices inside her head were locked in a vicious wrestling match, neither able to win.
While she wrestled with herself, Adam reached her side. He slowly extended a hand—the hand of salvation—offering it to pull her up, as if to drag her free from the painful vortex swallowing her whole.
Jeanne d'Arc Alter stared blankly at that hand.
If she took it, she could start a life that was truly hers.
Not one built on the hatred Gilles de Rais had forced into her.
Not as someone else's substitute.
Not as anyone's dark reflection.
A life where she could choose for herself.
The temptation was almost impossible to resist. A flicker of raw longing flashed across her face. Her own hand began to rise toward his, reaching for that promise of redemption.
But in that exact moment, memories crashed over her.
Collapsing buildings.
Screams of the people.
Blood spraying everywhere.
The sickening sounds of bodies being devoured by dragons.
Flames swallowing the entire city.
All of it was her doing.
Recalling her sins, she looked up at Adam. From her angle the sun sat directly behind his head, bathing him in radiant light that made him look almost divine—as if even the sun itself stood on his side.
Compared to that, she felt filthy, stained by her crimes.
Jeanne d'Arc Alter let out a heavy sigh. Guilt twisted in her chest as she averted her gaze and shook her head helplessly.
Under Adam's steady eyes she ignored the helping hand he offered. Struggling on her own, she clutched the wounds from the earlier fight and pushed herself up on unsteady legs to face him.
Her expression twisted, like something inside her had finally shattered.
"What I've done… there's no going back."
"I am the Dragon Witch who burned France to the ground."
"A destroyer!"
As she spoke, she clenched her fists. A black cross-shaped sword and a long spear bearing a flag materialized in her hands. The banner—the symbol of the Dragon Witch who had brought ruin to France—fluttered wildly in the wind.
"Redemption? I don't deserve it! I don't need it!"
She forced a fierce scowl onto her face, ready to clash with Adam and the others once more.
Yet Adam seemed completely unmoved by her angry declaration. He simply distilled everything she had said and replied softly:
"So… you don't deny that you long to walk your own path, right?"
Jeanne d'Arc Alter stared at him, momentarily stunned.
"I—!"
"I am France's destroyer! I burned countless people alive! I razed cities to the ground! I don't deserve any redemption!"
Adam refined her words again. The only conclusion he reached was the same.
"So… you still don't deny that you crave that path, right?"
Jeanne d'Arc Alter was getting frantic.
"You! Can you even hear me?! I said I don't deserve it!!!"
She thought she had made herself painfully clear.
Why couldn't he understand?
"So… you still desire it, right?"
Adam kept repeating the same line, as if he hadn't heard a single word.
"..."
Jeanne d'Arc Alter fell completely silent. A hint of helpless exasperation crept into her eyes as she looked at him.
Their conversation had become two people talking straight past each other.
More than confusion, her tone now carried pure frustration at how stubborn he was being.
All she wanted was for them to finish her off. Was that really so hard?
Since standing still wasn't enough to make them strike…
Then she would force the issue herself!
Jeanne d'Arc Alter raised her black cross-shaped sword high and aimed it straight at Adam.
The rest of the group instantly reacted to the threat, ready to rush forward and cut her down.
Strangely, though, the three strongest—Mash, Ciel, and Draco—didn't move at all. They simply watched from a distance, as if they already knew exactly what was coming.
Jeanne d'Arc Alter swung her cross-shaped holy sword down at Adam with everything she had left. At the last second she planned to pull her strike so he would only take a light wound.
Once they see him hurt, they'll tear me apart, she thought.
Clang!
Instead of the wet sound of steel cutting flesh, there was a crisp metallic ring—like the blade had struck something impossibly hard.
Everyone froze.
Jeanne d'Arc Alter stared in confusion at her sword tip. Where it should have met Adam's body, a pure golden shield now glowed, blocking the blow completely.
Where had the shield come from?
The others noticed the barrier around Adam and instinctively turned their eyes toward Jeanne d'Arc.
That holy golden light looked exactly like one of her own abilities.
"Huh?"
The sudden attention made Jeanne d'Arc blink in surprise. She glanced around at everyone.
Realizing they thought she had cast the shield, she shook her head quickly.
"N-No… It wasn't me…"
That only deepened the confusion.
"If it wasn't Jeanne d'Arc, then who?"
Could it have been Mash? She could project shields too, after all.
Just as they were wondering whether Mash had protected him, a very familiar voice suddenly rang out from behind the group.
"My Lord is here~"
Everyone spun around.
There, unnoticed until now, stood another Jeanne d'Arc.
She held her banner high. At that exact moment golden light broke through the clouds and poured down on her, bathing the scene in an overwhelmingly sacred glow that left everyone momentarily speechless.
"Huh?"
"Is… is that me?"
Jeanne d'Arc herself had the strongest reaction, staring in disbelief at the exact copy of herself. Even though she already knew Adam could summon her, seeing another version appear right in front of her still felt incredibly unsettling.
Jeanne d'Arc Alter was also frozen in place by the sight. But her gaze wasn't on the new Jeanne d'Arc.
It was fixed on the figure standing right beside her—
Another Jeanne d'Arc Alter, identical to her in every detail.
Not the one in revealing clothes from before, but dressed exactly like her current self.
It was the version of herself who had already lived out a different life in another Chaldea.
[Jeanne d'Arc (Ruler)]
[Jeanne d'Arc Alter (Avenger)]
Have arrived.
***
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