On May 30, 1431, when the sun was shining, a pair of bare feet, bound by chains, walked out of the prison for the first time after half a year.

"Whoa......

With the sound of chains, a woman walked out of the cell.

Dizziness, a strong feeling of dizziness.

The moment she walked out of the prison, the sun outside was too dazzling, so that Jeanne, who had not seen the sun for a long time, couldn't help but squint her eyes and her mind was dizzy.

There were several clergy standing in front of him, one of whom was still holding a document in his hand, which Jeanne seemed to recognize.

But who is in front of her?

She didn't pay attention, because she didn't care about it, after all, she already knew the verdict, and it was just routine at the moment.

"Jenny Daak, you are accused of committing heretical beliefs, committing suicide, not following the Church...... A total of eleven charges will be sentenced to be burned at the stake. ”

The old voice said word for word.

Jeanne, who was in a trance, did not listen carefully to what the priest in front of her said, she just covered her head and tried to sober herself up, but her illness was not cured, and even the reason why the British wanted to judge her in such a hurry was because they were afraid that she would die before she was sentenced.

The state of weakness caused her to let out a weak moan from time to time.

The priest looked at the woman in front of him, a former commander in charge of the French army, but now fragile like a glass puppet, about to die, helpless and pathetic, and couldn't help but sneer.

"Poor woman, your King Charles doesn't seem to have tried to save you, you trust him so much, but what has he given you in return?"

At this moment, as if hearing the priest's words, Jeanna's groans of pain stopped.

She looked up, gasping for breath, her eyes wide open, blue eyes full of anger.

"You don't have the right to attack Charlie, Charlie is a good Christian, he's a good king. ”

Even at the end of her life, the stubborn voice was as always, as everyone commented on her, a maverick, stubborn and arrogant girl, no one can change what she believes.

She believed in Charlie, who was not a strong man, even a little mediocre, but he was not a bad person, and she believed that he would be a good king.

"Really?"

However, she was met with the priest's sneer, which was accompanied by contempt, as if it had a deep meaning. But before Jeanne could figure it out, and there was no more nonsense, the priest waved his hand, and the two jailers behind Jeanne escorted her forward.

......

"Buzz ......"

Along the way, many people on both sides of the road whispered, some of them even from Paris and its vicinity of France, just to be able to catch a glimpse of the Orleans Maiden, however, to their disappointment, the Orleans Maiden was not as bright as the legend, and she looked no different from an ordinary girl in her embarrassment at the moment.

"Is that the Holy Maiden of Orleans?"

Some people said in disappointment, too depressed, even embarrassed image, so that they could not feel that it was a religious saint, but just an ordinary woman.

As the young king of England said.

"I just want to show the French how downtrodden that national salvation saint is. ”

Jeanne was pushed by the soldiers, and walked step by step to the pyre in the city square, where there was a very high pile of wood and a wooden pillar, to which Jeanne would be tied to the pillar, and according to the Church, to be burned at the stake, burned to the body, and touched by the uncleanness of the witch.

The girl who was tied to the wooden pillar could easily see the expressions of the people below, see their whispers, and see their numbness......

It seemed to them that the Holy Maiden of Orleans, the man who had saved France, perhaps they were simply curious that a woman was about to be burned here, as they had seen many times at the stake, and that it made no difference whether she was a witch or a saint.

They don't know what France is, they don't know what England is, and although they were born on French soil, they never realize that they are French, after all, what difference does it make if they are from any country? It is the nobles who come and go, and the nobles of any country just want them to pay taxes, and what does it have to do with them.

Numb, dazed, this is France.

Jeanne knew a long time ago that this was the status quo in France, and that is why she tried to call on the French to revolt, which, in her opinion, was the reason why France had fallen to the point where it is today.

But even though she knew, looking at those blank and numb faces, Jeanna's heart couldn't help but feel a little gloomy.

She wanted to shout at them, "My compatriots! We are all of the same race here, why don't we rise up and resist!"

But she couldn't, because the burning was about to begin.

"Ignition!"

With the command, the torch fell on the oil-stained firewood, and the dry pyre immediately burned violently, the firewood crackled and burned, and the fire was accompanied by thick smoke, so that Jeanne could not help but cry and snot from her nose.

"Ahem...... Ahem......"

Coughing violently, her smoky eyes couldn't help but cry, forcing Jeanne to close her eyes.

In my ears, there was only the noisy human voice, not the voice of God......

"Well, girl from Orleans, listen, this is the world, this is the human race, this is the French people you are trying to save......"

Jeanne closed her eyes and couldn't see, only a low laugh rang out in her ears.

Jeanne didn't pay attention to her, she just gritted her teeth, she didn't want to speak, she didn't want to make a weak and painful sound, the guy liked to hear it the most, but for Jeanne, she would never give in to that guy.

"You are trying to save France, but who will save you? No one! You are just a tool, no matter who it is, God or Charlie, everyone just uses you as a tool and discards ...... when they are finished"

The closed eyes were still crying, and in a hazy way, the girl seemed to see a black shadow walking slowly towards her.

Fair skin that doesn't look like a man, a naked body with distinct muscles, a cold and calm posture, and ...... There was no light, not even reflections, as if it was a pupil that swallowed up all the light, like a black hole.

Greed, darkness, darkness that even light will be swallowed up by it.

That posture is too beautiful, and the beauty is suffocating.

"See, no one will come to save you. ”

In the dizzy vision, I could only feel the dark purple lips opening and closing, and the voice full of magical charm came out of my mouth.

Wild hairs filled the field of vision, tens of thousands, billions, twisted like poisonous snakes, and in a trance, those hairs seemed to grow out of their eyes, and the hundreds of millions of erect snake pupils were staring at her.

With that sound, it reached out to itself......

The hand is carved like marble, sturdy and full of delicate texture.

Obviously, when you look at that body, you will feel inexplicable fear and trembling, and your heart seems to be clenched by a big hand, which makes people breathless, but at the same time, you will sincerely feel a sense of closeness, eager to be touched by that hand.

It's too powerful, and it's too beautiful.

Because of fear, I try to get close, because only by trying to get close to it can I make myself feel that I am meaningful, and my meaningful self will not be erased by it.

"Jeanne, are you angry?"

The low, magnetic voice rang in Jeanne's ears.

Wrath?

Is there really nothing?

Naturally, no, how much did he pay for France to save France from the brink of destruction with his own strength, but who in France would save him? Those French nobles, those French generals, who tried to save themselves?

It may be subtle, but isn't that sense of grievance and anger real?

"Jeanne, are you angry with these French?"

And at this moment, the muffled, magnetic voice sounded again.

In front of Jeanne, the picture that I didn't see when I closed my eyes reappeared, those citizens of Rouen, those citizens of Paris, people from all over the world, were now looking at themselves burned by the flames, exclaiming from time to time, sometimes screaming, but no one showed unbearable expressions.

They were just there to see the "Holy Maiden" burned at the stake.

Even Jeanne, who has always been firm, is at a loss in her heart.

"Is this the French people I want to save......

"Is this the French people you want to save......"

The demon's low laughter gradually became wanton, and Jeanne, whose throat was choked by smoke, and Jeanne, whose skin was burned by the fire, accompanied by the demon's wanton laughter.

"Poor Jeanne, the French people don't care about you, and the king of France doesn't care about you, so what's the point of what you're doing. ”

"You are not allowed to ...... Insult Charlie ......"

But, amid the demon's unbridled laughter, a weak but stubborn voice struggled.

Her cheeks were scorched from the flames, and her hair was already a sea of fire, and there were marks of fire everywhere, but the girl still stubbornly raised her head and looked at the beautiful suffocating life in front of her.

Charlie...... He's a nice guy......"

She was a little delirious, but instinctively said that Charlie was a good king, and Jeanne always believed so.

The long hair in the sky was like a poisonous snake, and the hundreds of millions of erect snake pupils were looking at her, ruthless and indifferent. And looking at the woman in front of him, who was still stubborn even at the end of her life, her dark purple lips hooked up, revealing a mocking and pitying smile.

That smile Jeanne had seen before, the same smile of mockery and pity that the priest had seen before, as if he were looking at a fool.

"Poor woman, you still don't understand why you're in this situation. ”