Still the familiar white robe and white hair, compared to this dark and damp dungeon, he was so out of place in this pure world, as if he was in a parallel but not intersecting world.

At first, Joan of Arc thought she was seeing a hallucination, but soon, as the being in front of her called her name again, she was sure that everything in front of her was not a hallucination.

Only then did she remember that there seemed to be two other beings in this world who knew her true name.

"Your Excellency." Joan of Arc responded.

Char stared at her silently, and after a moment, he asked softly.

"Do you want to leave? I can take you out of here whenever you want. ”

Joan of Arc fell silent, and then, she replied, "I still have some things to do."

"But it's risky."

"I'm still the same, my lord." Joan of Arc muttered softly, "If this war can be resolved with minimal casualties, it will be the best choice for everyone."

Char stared at her for a long time, and then said, "Are you because of the mission I gave you, or because of your own will?"

"It's because of your mission, because of my will, and even more, because of the hope of the millions who died in this war!"

Joan of Arc's words were firm and unhesitating, and her eyes were as bright as sparks in the dark, damp dungeon.

Char's eyes also rippled a little the moment her words fell

He slowly raised his hand, put it on her forehead, and whispered.

"This garment will bless you"

As she heard the last words in her ears, she slowly fell unconscious.

"You admire her."

A voice came from Char's side.

Although in Joan of Arc's eyes, Char was talking to her in prison.

But in reality, Char's real location was in the courtyard behind the castle.

The castle is anchored at Lake Selim in the northwest of Beichen.

This is Char's favorite place, which combines the vastness and blue of the sea with the tranquility and depth of the lake.

Every year, he comes to this one.

In front of him was the image of a cloud of mist.

In the video, Joan of Arc, covered in wounds, is lying on an iron bed.

The place where he had just spoken to Joan of Arc was in her dream, which was also his ability.

"Her soul is pure." Char muttered, "It's really similar to Arthur." ”

He looked at Alicia to the side, "Are you afraid of death?" ”

"Death?" Alicia thought for a moment, then nodded, "Afraid."

"I didn't really have a concept of death in the past, until my mother died, and I began to fear the unknown." Alicia muttered softly.

She turned her head to look at Joan of Arc, "But I know that there are people in this world who are not afraid of death. ”

"She's actually afraid of death, too." Char said quietly, "Forever separated from everything you were familiar with in life, entering a completely unknown place, or even completely disappearing from this world." How many people in this world are not afraid of this kind of nothingness? ”

He looked at Joan of Arc.

"Many people ignore that she is really just a teenager, how can she not be afraid of death."

"But there are more important things for this child than death." Char's eyes were shining, "She faced her fears and made her choice firmly. ”

Alicia nodded, "She struggled for a long time over where Katyusha should be released, I thought this kid was an indecisive character, but now it seems that as long as it is something she has decided on, she will be more determined than anyone else."

"She might actually die in this country." Alicia looked at Char, "Will you interfere?" ”

"I rarely interfere with fate." Char said.

Alicia stared at Char's side face, her talking eyes swirling, and the corners of her mouth raised in an arc that seemed to see through everything.

"Really."

Joan of Arc slowly opened her eyes, and the existence was gone, as if everything that had just happened was just her hallucination.

It was then that she noticed a large bag of stuff in the dark corner on the other side of the cell.

She slowly approached, finally seeing that it was a dirty canvas bag.

That's when she began to feel the biting cold, even if the foul-smelling, stained bag didn't look like a good sign.

But Joan of Arc still wondered if there might be a blanket in the bag.

She knelt in front of the sack, which was tied at both ends, and she untied the knot at one end.

She lifted the canvas bag, and in the faint light of the flickering candles in the aisle, she could faintly see the face of a doll in her hand, a model of a fake puppet in a clothing store.

Then, a foul stench and nausea made her realize that it wasn't a doll at all.

She then covered her mouth and nose and dropped the canvas bag.

The deceased appears to be an adult of unknown age, between forty and seventy-five years old, who should have weighed less than fifty kilograms. He had long hair and a gray beard that covered most of his emaciated face.

His hands were scrawny and his nails were long and curved, like bird's claws.

One eye is open, and the wrinkles at the corners of the eyes seem to be overripe fruit. The mouth is slightly open, the tongue is swollen and black, stuck between the teeth, and it has rotted and pus.

"Don't be afraid, this poor fellow is powerless to hurt anyone." Voices were heard from the cell opposite.

Joan of Arc peered in the shadows, and then she spotted the shining eyes looking at her from the iron bed in the opposite cell.

Joan of Arc was speechless, and although he was indeed frightened just now, she was not afraid, for it was already common for her to eat and live with corpses on the battlefield.

Compared to the corpses of the soldiers, she felt that the imperialists who wantonly took people's lives were more terrible.

She whispered, "May you rest in the glory of God." ”

"He's an atheist." The cell on the other side spoke again.

"Even so, I still hope that his soul can rest in peace." Joan of Arc said.

The man narrowed his eyes slightly, "It's really rare to have a beautiful girl like you in a cell of this level. ”

"What's your name?" Joan of Arc asked.

"Fermin Saunders."

"My name is Joan of Arc." Joan of Arc said.

Fermin's face showed a hint of surprise, "This is really a familiar name, did I travel back hundreds of years?" ”

"It's just a duplicate name." Joan of Arc said.

"I've heard from the people who came in that there was a very powerful person on the battlefield of West France, and she was also called Joan of Arc, so are you the one I thought?"

Joan of Arc nodded, "I think so." ”

"Is West Farland defeated?"

"No, the war is coming to an end."

"What about you."

"This starts with the more complicated situation, but the most important reason."

Joan of Arc slowly got up, the panic in her eyes vanished, replaced by a glimmer of knowing that everything was under control.

"I'm here to see you."

(End of chapter)