Smack.

After the switch, the scene is a physical hell. The dimly lit stone room was filled with a foul smell. In the center is a large lavish bed, and the table next to it is lined with countless severed children's heads. And the ground was piled up with countless carcasses that originally belonged to them. While half is fresh, the other half has begun to rot. But it's the same to bleed and die with a look of despair.

Joan of Arc clenched her fists. Such a hell, Joan of Arc did not know. However, in terms of knowledge she is impressed. That's something you can't avoid when you're talking about yourself as a person.

“…… This is the city of Tifger, right?"

"That's right. It's the home of the hellboy Gilles de Les. ”

Gilles de Rice. It was Joan of Arc's retinue who stood up to save the Motherland, and one of the credits for the liberation of Orleans. A great hero who made many exploits in the Hundred Years' War and finally became a field marshal - and then.

At the same time, he is also a serial killer who indulges in juvenile love and black magic in his own territory, tortures hundreds of teenagers, and tortures them.

Joan of Arc didn't know. She doesn't know anything except Jill, who fights side by side on the battlefield as her own guardian. Of course, she was a follower after all, and she still knew something about Gilles de Les's cruel and tyrannical behavior.

But—

"Knowledge and reality are two different things, right?"

Joan of Arc looked at the pile of corpses that had once been teenagers with a stiff expression. It was a creepy sight. Exposing corpses to the wilderness on the battlefield is a fairly common thing. But the entities in Joan of Arc's eyes were small, with hands and feet as thin as dead branches—corpses rarely seen on the battlefield where adults fought each other.

Although it was a dizzying, blasphemy scene, it only made Joan of Arc's heart shake slightly. The past is the past after all, and that is a fact that must not be overturned.

Their deaths, even if they are the set of a stage play, must be remembered.

But at the same time, she has a negative attitude towards the practice of judging her life as regret based on this alone.

Joan of Arc's will is strong, and his honest heart will never waver.

"Even so, I will not waver. ”

"Probably. Even if you see the corpses of teenagers you don't know, the most you can do is sympathize, and there is no weakness that can make your heart succumb. ”

With a creaking sound, the wooden door was opened. Joan of Arc, who looked back reflexively, suddenly showed a look of astonishment. With thin cheeks and eyes that shimmered with brilliant madness, the bravery of the past was gone, replaced by a face full of despair and hatred.

That's not the Gilles de Les that Joan of Arc was familiar with—

Rather, it is a legendary monster known as "Bluebeard" and feared by people.

"Oh, isn't this Joan of Arc, what's the matter, why did you come to such a place?"

Jill greeted Joan of Arc unhurriedly and with a relaxed attitude. His hands were still holding tightly in a cloth stained with discolored blood.

Calm down, it's just an illusion - Joan of Arc convinces herself in her heart. I wanted to bite through the rusty iron, the cold like a cold mist wrapped around my body, something wrapped in cloth—no, I couldn't imagine what it was. That must have been the deadliest thing for Joan of Arc Dalke.

“…… Enough is enough. End the scene right away. It's a shame that my death caused him to behave badly. But, I-"

"Let me tell you a good thing. This Jill isn't a puppet like the troupe members who can only say my assigned lines. Gilles de Les is a hero who can think with his own will and corrupt into this world with his own will, and is a servant summoned by my red Caster. ”

A stunned Ruler said:

"Servant...... It's ridiculous! You yourself are a Servant, can you still summon a Servant?"

"As long as you're the owner of this garden, there's no problem at all. But having said that, he wasn't a being given a rank. You should understand that since you're Ruler, he's just a reproduction of Gilles de Les's soul, and the shell is just a fragile old man. ”

Joan of Arc stared fiercely at Shakespeare. Such a call is simply an insult to the hero of Gilles de Les.

"Red Caster, what is your purpose in doing this——!

"Then you just have to ask him personally. Baron, you must have something to say, right?"

Hearing Shakespeare say this, Jill smiled maniacally:

"Yes. Joan of Arc, there's something I'd like you to see. I've had countless heads cut off by the heads of countless children so far, and I've been thrilled every time......"

The cloth is slowly peeled off. Is the slow flow of time due to terror?Joan of Arc opened her mouth and whispered in a hoarse voice:

“…… Stop, stop, Jill!"

Jill didn't stop. Joan of Arc knew it intellectually, and Gil always cut off the head of the boy she loved, and loved it. Stop, Jill. He killed the boy and cut his flesh open, then dug out his intestines to enjoy the divine touch————

"Look at it, Joan of Arc! ”

Stripped cloth. Skull、You can see a head。 This head is - his familiar face, a young man named Shinji Makiri.

"And this, and these are—"

The constant switching of heads, sometimes into the appearance of Artoria, sometimes into little Jack, sometimes into the sixth guide Lingxia, each of them is someone Jeanne d'Arc feels close to.

"You know my nickname, the infamous Bluebeard. I have done almost all kinds of evil deeds of all the gods in order to blaspheme the god who betrayed the saints! Do you want to hear the sorrows of the children! The desperate grievances of the gods!"

“…… No way...... That's not going to work......!"

The saint finally let out a cry of sorrow, she did not want to see this miserable picture, she did not want to see the depravity of her once most trusted comrades and partners.

She instinctively tried to cover her eyes, but—another force was holding back her hand, the other half of what the owner of the first head had said before the battle.

- If you don't have time to kill him and make him activate the Noble Phantasm, then you will face a torture, a torture of your life. It will manifest the weakest part of your subconscious that has happened in your life, what has not happened, and then tear it apart.

There is only one way to fight it - to believe that you are right, to believe in us partners, and not to waver in whatever you see. Because of your faith, your partners will never fail you.

That being said, if it were me, I guess I wouldn't be able to survive. But I believe that you will be able to persevere, no matter how much you suffer, because you are such a person, not a saint, but the nature of a girl named Jeanne Darch.

How unfair fate is for you to carry such a burden and experience so much pain. What's even more sad is that you don't complain and sigh. But that's why you're so beautiful and admired by so many people, even though you never thought you were a saint.

Be brave and say what you really think. So that even if you see hell, as long as you don't change your faith, it will become heaven.

His face was pale, the Holy Flag fell on the "stage", and his hands were trembling......

A closed world surrounded by the most frightening scenes.

I see, at first I didn't understand what he was talking about, but after seeing it with my own eyes, I realized that it was unimaginable hell.

Targeting the weakest point of the human heart, inflicting the most cruel blow, if I were alone, maybe I would really be defeated.

But, Red Caster, you're mistaken, I'm not alone.

My buddies are here, always there, they are supporting me, they are waiting for me, and the same is true of "him" in front of me.

So, so—

His hands were still shaking, and his face was still ugly, but his shaky eyes were clear again.

"Stop, Jill. ”

Not a wail, not a begging, not an escape, but an unquestionable voice, just as she had when she commanded the entire French army and gave orders. Although she never puts on a condescending show, she has a spirit that cannot be violated.

"Joan of Arc......" Gilles de Les shuddered and subconsciously lowered his head.

"I am saddened by your fall, and admittedly, there are reasons for this. But Jill, I want to tell you that I've wanted to tell you from the moment I know you've become 'Bluebeard' – you're wrong. It has nothing to do with the gods, nothing to do with the saints, nothing to do with anything else, just to be your friend, as a human being, to tell you that you are wrong and have made irreparable mistakes. If I had been around, I would have stopped you, but-"

"But you're gone, the country you saved, the people you saved, the damned king. Even by the god you believe in, who leads you on such a path, but gives you such an end. God is not merciful at all, He is just playing with your life, He is only playing with humanity. ”

Gilles de Les' eyes seemed to burn, but there was no expression on his face. This is similar to the excitement he had shown before.

"You look around, look at these corpses, look at these heads, I've done the most vicious, the worst blasphemy the world can do. But no matter how much I killed or blasphemed, I was not punished by God, and by the time I noticed, I had been on the path of pursuing evil for eight years. The wails and screams of thousands of young children have all disappeared into the darkness of nothingness! It was not God who destroyed me, but human beings with boundless desires like me. The Church and the King have found me guilty and have arrested and executed me, but they have only set up a ploy to take a fancy to my wealth and territory and to take it for themselves. Their actions were not so much to punish me for my wickedness as for naked plunder! It was at this time that I realized how evil God is, and that He does not punish mankind, but only plays with it. ”

Joan of Arc shook her head slowly: "No, you're wrong, Jill, God is not what you think?"

"And what about what happened to you? Slandered as a heretic, witch, burned at the stake? See the reality, Joan of Arc. ”

"It's you who should see the reality, Jill, I've never been a saint, I'm a sinner, a sinner who has taken countless lives, a sinner like you!"

From the first time she went to war, from the first killing, Joan of Arc knew that she was a sinner, so she never lamented her fate.

"That's my sin, something that belongs only to me. Jill, you are the same. Your sins are your own. Even if you can't atone for your sins, this despair is still yours alone. ”

Joan of Arc grabbed him by the chest and leaned her face in. Gilton froze.

It's so beautiful, he thought to himself. The girl who stares at her with anger is so beautiful that it sends chills down your spine.

At the same time, he also realized his mistake.

For this saint who does not regard herself as a saint, whether she is in purgatory or hell, or even in heaven, she will probably not change anything. As if there was no time left to ago, she was always running around, giving her life for something—

"It's not right to be angry with God and to put the blame on others. You and I are both sinners, and there is no way to atone for the sins of those who have become victims! The only thing we can do is lend our shoulders to the living, and that is the meaning of our Heroic Spirits. ”

Gil fell to his knees with tears in his eyes, and he held Joan of Arc's hand tightly and begged:

"—I, will we never be forgiven?"

"God will forgive everything, but the children you killed and the soldiers I killed will not forgive us. This sin, this guilt, that is the punishment that must be endured forever...... It doesn't matter, I'll lend you my shoulder. ”

Sin will never be wiped out.

Despite hating themselves as sinners, they still save the world as heroic spirits—the punishment they are given, and at the same time salvation.

"I see, Joan of Arc. It's only for a short time, but it's a blessing to be able to talk to you again. ”

Evil deeds will not be forgiven.

The Day of Atonement never comes to an end.

Apparently all this was announced by the saint herself, but Jill's voice seemed quite calm.

Actually, this is a very simple fact.

He loved this girl deeply. is neither a saint nor a girl who saves the country, but she likes Jeanne Darch. His love for this young girl, who was like a warm sunshine, was so deep that he immediately went crazy because she was killed.