Five Servants mounted on a dragon—it wasn't just a winged lizard this time, but a true dragon... a colossal black dragon.
Even in front of this massive creature and the four Servants riding on its back, my eyes inevitably fell upon the Black Saint.
Her skin was ashen, with yellow eyes that glowed beneath her short, platinum-blonde hair adorned with a rebellious ahoge. Her armor bore dark tones that contrasted sharply with her pale skin, yet it was identical to that of her counterpart, Jeanne d'Arc.
This is definitely going to be a problem. I thought, shifting my gaze between the two Jeannes.
My Servant, Jeanne, stepped forward, staring intensely at her corrupted counterpart. The anger in her eyes was evident. She never once averted her furious gaze from her other "self," clenching her fists and biting her lips as if refusing to accept that her other self could be responsible for so many atrocities.
Even though her rational mind knew the truth, a part of her heart still wished—desperately—that this was just a farce, that someone else was framing her.
Unfortunately, the scene before us left no room for doubt.
Meanwhile, the Black Jeanne, atop the dragon, gazed down at her counterpart with an initially neutral expression—until her eyes widened. She brought a hand to her face, and then a crooked grin spread across her lips.
"Hahaha! Who would've thought..." she said, her voice dripping with mockery. "Who would've thought something like this would happen?"
Her grin widened, distorting her beautiful features as if she were about to burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"Could someone please throw some water on me? This is so bad... so awful! I think I'm going to lose it. It's so hilarious I might die from laughing!"
Then, she surrendered to hysterical laughter, throwing her head back as her Servants remained still, watching her in silence. Her laugh was sharp, filled with sheer contempt for her original self.
She raised her hand, running her fingers through her hair as she tried to stifle her laughter.
"Look at her, Gilles! Look at that pathetic little girl! What is she? A rat? A worm?" Her expression twisted into a grimace, and a glint of pure hatred flickered in her eyes as she glared at us. "In the end, they're all the same! It's so damn funny that I can't even feel a shred of pity. This shitty country only ever knows how to depend on me, no matter the reason... isn't that right, Gilles...? Hahaha! Oh, wait—we didn't bring Gilles this time. My mistake."
Jeanne gripped her flag so tightly that her fingers turned white from the tension. Without hesitation, she took another step forward toward her dark counterpart.
It seemed Jeanne had reached her limit. "You..." She swallowed hard before continuing, her voice heavy with restrained emotion. "Who... are you?" she demanded, even though she already knew the answer perfectly well.
It was almost as if she needed to hear that confession from her own lips.
"Who am I?!" The false Jeanne let out a harsh laugh. "I should be the one asking you that! But since you insist..." Her lips curled into a disdainful smile. "I am Jeanne d'Arc, the true holy saint of France."
"You are no saint. Just as I am not." The real Jeanne clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug deep into her own flesh. "What I really want to know is..." A drop of blood trickled from her clenched hand. "Why did you attack this city, not why did you attack France?"
"HAHAHAHA! It's so obvious it's pathetic!" The impostor's voice dripped with contempt. "Let me spell it out for that hollow little head of yours. I want to destroy France! Crush it, stomp on it, make every miserable citizen of this shitty nation scream in agony! Political methods? Economic strategies? Too soft. I want to crush them physically, with my own hands!" Her screams echoed, marked by undeniable madness.
"Unhinged," Artoria muttered beside me. I found it quite ironic hearing that word come from the mouth of a tyrant king.
Still... I couldn't help but agree with the Black Saber.
"Hah?! You want me to rip those eyes out, you pretentious cow?" Jeanne Alter snarled, shooting Saber a chilling glare.
"Hey! Shut your damn mouth, you spoiled brat," Artoria snapped back, returning her murderous glare.
Normally, pissing off enemies is my specialty, but I have to admit—you're doing an exceptionally good job of it.
Completely ignoring the brewing argument between the Servants, Jeanne parted her rosy lips to speak. "This is insanity. These people are innocent."
"Innocent?!" Jeanne Alter's voice was dripping with pure hatred, each word sharper than the last. "We were innocent! Why did you insist on saving this shitty country? Why did you try to bring salvation to these worms, knowing full well they spat on us and stabbed us in the back?" Her eyes burned with uncontrollable fury, her pupils dilated with rage.
For the first time... her words actually felt brutally honest. And truth be told... I could understand her.
"But..."
"Enough!" Jeanne Alter declared, her voice now cold and flat. "I won't be deceived anymore. I won't be betrayed anymore." Her hollow eyes reflected a grim determination. "The voice of the Lord has fallen silent for me. If He no longer speaks, it means He has withdrawn His blessing from this land. Therefore, in the name of His pain... I will rip out the evil by its roots."
She slowly spread her arms open, as if in some macabre form of ecstasy, continuing: "As long as humanity exists, my hatred will persist. I will turn this France into a kingdom of dragons and the undead. This... this will be my salvation." Her smile was almost beatific, as if she were sharing her plans directly with heaven. "By the hands of the new Jeanne d'Arc—reborn from the ashes of death."
Then, her gaze locked onto Jeanne again, her eyes narrowing with disdain. "But you could never understand, could you? Just a little girl pretending to be a saint." Her lips twisted into a venomous smile. "A naive little virgin who pretends not to see the hatred and lust in the world. A pathetic fool incapable of even the most basic human growth." The final insult was delivered with a tone of cruel pity, as if mocking the eternal innocence of her counterpart.
Jeanne instinctively stepped back. "I..." she murmured, but I stepped forward, sliding my hand through her long golden hair in a gentle gesture.
"Jeanne," I said softly, "no words of yours will ever reach her." My fingers stroked her strands as I offered her a reassuring smile.
"M-Master?!" Her wide eyes blinked at me, her hands clutching my sleeve with desperate strength.
"Don't use words. Show her your truth through actions—not words." My hand slid gently down her hair.
"Hey! Do you really think that just because you found a master to play pet and owner with, you stupid little virgin, you can just ignore me?!" Jeanne Alter snarled, her golden eyes burning with seething hatred.
Before Jeanne could answer, I spoke up, keeping my hand in her hair as I turned my face toward the corrupted version.
"Enough with the monologues. But allow me to say one last thing." I withdrew my hand and stepped toward the dragon, which roared barely ten meters away.
"Ohhh! Look at the little rat pretending to be a lion," she spat, though a twisted grin danced on her lips.
Ignoring the insult, I raised my voice:
"Before you're defeated... I want something to be perfectly clear: in some ways... I agree with you."
A heavy silence fell upon the battlefield.
"Altair-senpai?!"
"Master..."
Mash and Jeanne's confused voices echoed as Artoria and my other two Servants remained silent. Ritsuka simply watched me, her gaze unreadable. Even Black Jeanne seemed momentarily surprised, blinking rapidly.
"Well... that was unexpected. But I—"
I cut her off before she could continue. "If I were betrayed like you were, I would absolutely seek revenge. And not for a single second would I hesitate to be merciless." I lowered my gaze to my hands, trying not to think about certain unpleasant memories.
Jeanne stayed silent, her golden eyes piercing into mine. What was she thinking? Honestly... I didn't want to know.
"That said, I can only agree with you to a point. If you limited your revenge to those who actually betrayed you, I wouldn't object. In fact, I wouldn't even mind if you slaughtered every single one who called you a witch and burned you. But killing innocents?" My gaze hardened. "Children who know nothing, defenseless elders, and women just trying to live their lives... That's not revenge. That's petty, miserable resentment."
I raised my hand, summoning my staff as the Monkey King's robe wrapped around my body. Jeanne remained still, her eyes fixed on me, not blinking even once.
"So I'm going to beat you down—it seems to be the only way to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours." My lips curved into a feral grin.
Her eyes blinked slowly before locking fully onto me, cold and unflinching. Her pale lips parted to speak:
"You... even as the master of that idiot, you're not entirely stupid. But in the end, you'll never understand the depth of my hatred. There isn't a single innocent soul in this rotten France. Every single one betrayed me."
She raised her arm, pointing directly at our group.
"Berserker Lancer! Berserker Assassin! Eliminate that idiotic peasant girl and that pretentious woman in black. Berserker Saber and Berserker Rider, deal with the other two Servants. As for that worm..."
With astonishing agility, she leapt from the back of the black dragon, landing gracefully on the ground.
The four Berserkers charged forward, their murderous eyes locked onto their targets. But my eyes ignored them entirely, focusing only on the pale figure standing before me.
"Alright," I muttered, flexing my legs and flashing a predatory grin. "Be careful."
Without a second of hesitation, I launched myself toward the Dragon Witch, spinning my staff as she raised her black flag to meet me.
••• ••• •••
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(Jeanne d'Arc Alter (Jalter) - Character Image)