[Altair Miller]
My feet touched the ground as I held Ritsuka in my arms.
The sudden movement through the air made her skirt flutter slightly, revealing, for a brief moment, the panties under her tights. Ritsuka quickly moved her hand down to cover it.
From what I could tell, they were white, but there was no time to appreciate that work of art. After all, we were standing in front of the fort, and the scene unfolding before my eyes was anything but pleasant.
The fort was completely destroyed. Its walls had been reduced to rubble, with collapsed stones scattered everywhere. The watchtowers were leaning, with some of them partially collapsed. Large cracks split the stone walls, exposing charred wooden beams and debris piled inside.
The place was in such a pitiful state that it was hard to believe we were theoretically in a time of peace.
I sighed and carefully placed Ritsuka down. She seemed a bit annoyed, but as she turned to me, her annoyed expression melted away completely.
"This is horrible," Ritsuka said, clenching her fists. Her expression darkened even further as she noticed the dozens of wounded soldiers scattered across the ground. Some were propped against cracked walls, while others lay on makeshift stretchers made from pieces of wood and torn uniforms.
Now it made sense why their morale was so low. The soldiers here were in even worse shape than the garrison ahead of us.
"It's a complete ruin," Mash muttered, stopping beside her Master. Her gentle eyes scanned the scene; her expression was filled with sympathy for the soldiers.
"A completely normal sight," commented Nobunaga, sitting on top of an arquebus with a neutral expression. "You could say the living are more unlucky than the dead." She crossed her arms, resting her cheek on them.
Ritsuka dug her nails into her palm, clearly uncomfortable with Nobunaga's words. However, the groans of pain echoing around seemed to lend some truth to the servant's coldness.
There was nothing in this garrison besides wounded soldiers, many of whom barely had the strength to hold a sword.
"Yes, it's a normal sight… but it shouldn't be," I said, remembering that, in 1431, Charles VII of France had signed a peace treaty with the Duke of Burgundy, a former ally of England.
Silently, I walked toward the leader of the French patrol, who was visibly injured.
His eyes widened the moment he saw us, and he shouted in alarm:
"Attention! Ici, ils reviennent!" (Attention! They are coming back!)
His cry spread panic among the survivors. I raised my hands, trying to show we weren't there to attack. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Okita reaching for her katana.
"S'il vous plaît, attendez! Nous ne sommes pas ici pour nous battre avec vous! (Please, wait! We are not here to fight with you!)" My words made the soldiers hesitate for a few seconds, but they kept their weapons at the ready. "Nous ne sommes que des voyageurs. Nous n'avons aucune intention de vous faire du mal, veuillez déposer vos armes. (We are just travelers. We have no intention of harming you, please lower your weapons.)"
Hearing my words, they exchanged confused looks and slowly lowered their weapons.
"Vous ne travaillez pas avec l'ennemi? (You are not working with the enemy?)" the garrison captain asked, cautiously watching our group with suspicion.
I shook my head. "Non, je pensais que les Anglais n'attaquaient pas. Le roi n'a-t-il pas signé le traité de paix? (No, I thought the English were not attacking. Didn't the king sign the peace treaty?)"
"Le roi? Tu n'as pas entendu ce qui s'est passé? ("The king? Haven't you heard what happened?)" He frowned. "Le roi est mort. Il a été brûlé par la flamme d'une sorcière. (The king is dead. He was burned by the flame of a witch.)"
My eyebrows instantly knitted together. This complicated things.
I turned to the group and translated the information.
"He said the king is dead, burned by the flames of a witch."
"A witch!?" Ritsuka blinked, incredulous. "That doesn't make any sense." She raised her hand, resting her chin on it in a thoughtful gesture.
"I agree," I replied, turning back to the soldiers. "Qui est cette sorcière? (Who is this witch?)"
The leader fell silent for a few seconds before answering.
"Jeanne d'Arc. Elle est apparue comme la Sorcière Dragon. (Jeanne d'Arc. She appeared as the Dragon Witch)"
I blinked, surprised. Jeanne d'Arc… a witch? The same holy figure who fought for France had now killed the king? This was so unexpected it felt like a fever dream.
"Senpai, are you alright?" Mash asked, noticing my stunned expression.
"Yeah… I just wasn't expecting this revelation," I replied, massaging my temple.
"Who was it, Altair-kun?" Ritsuka tilted her head, curious.
"He said it was Jeanne d'Arc, the 'Dragon Witch.'"
"What!?" Ritsuka exclaimed. "That makes no sense! She should already be dead by this time."
Mash nodded in agreement, her face confused. Nobunaga remained silent, arms crossed, brow furrowed.
"She was burned at the stake just a few weeks ago," I said, crossing my arms. "Looks like we've found who's tampering with the timeline."
"Seems like it," Artoria murmured.
Before I could say anything else, a scream interrupted our conversation.
"Ennemis détectés! Ennemis détectés! (Enemies detected! Enemies detected!)"
I turned my head, feeling a surge of magical energy. At the same moment, the commlink activated, and Dr. Roman's hologram appeared.
"I'm detecting magical energy signatures heading your way! They don't appear to be Servants… they're skeletal soldiers."
As he said that, I saw a few skeletal soldiers marching toward us just a few meters away.
"At least this time we don't have to hold back," I said, stretching.
"I'll take your word for it, monkey," Artoria replied coldly, raising Excalibur, now stained with corruption.
I turned to the soldiers, who were barely able to keep their swords raised.
"Peux-tu défendre ces hommes pour nous ? (Can you defend these men for us?)" I bent my knees, ready to advance, but Okita moved first. Her black scarf fluttered as she disappeared in a blur of motion, crossing several meters in the blink of an eye. Her katana flashed in a perfect arc, slicing the air with a sharp whistle before cleaving the skeletons in half.
Smiling, I followed her lead, propelling myself into the air. Nobunaga summoned three arquebuses with a fluid gesture. The guns fired in sequence, each shot like thunder echoing across the field. The crimson projectiles pierced the skeletons, reducing five of them to dust in a single searing blast.
In midair, I spun my body and landed with an impact that cracked the ground, crushing two skeletons beneath my feet. I twisted my torso, delivering a punch that struck another skeleton's head with enough force to pulverize it into an explosion of bone fragments.
Meanwhile, Okita's blade danced between them, slicing the skeletons around her as if they were butter. Artoria charged forward with brutal strikes, her sword destroying everything in her path. Skeletons were sent flying, shattered before they could even hit the ground.
Within seconds, the skeletons were annihilated.
When Artoria smashed the last skeleton with Excalibur, the French commander approached, amazed.
"Merci beaucoup, voyageurs. (Thank you very much, travelers.)" The captain sincerely thanked us, unable to hide the admiration in his gaze.
"Tu n'as pas besoin de dire merci, (You don't need to say thank you,)" I replied, bored. "Excusez-moi de demander, mais êtes-vous sûr que cette sorcière était Jeanne d'Arc? (Excuse me for asking, but are you sure that witch was Jeanne d'Arc?)"
He nodded affirmatively.
"Oui. J'ai combattu sous sa bannière lors du siège d'Orléans. Ses cheveux et sa couleur de peau sont différents, mais c'est bien elle. Lorsque nous avons appris qu'elle avait été capturée par les Anglais et brûlée vive, nous avons été saisis d'une immense colère ! Cependant, elle a conclu un pacte avec le diable et est revenue d'entre les morts. (Yes. I fought under her banner during the siege of Orléans. Her hair and skin color are different, but it is indeed her. When we learned that she had been captured by the English and burned alive, we were filled with immense anger! However, she made a pact with the devil and came back from the dead.)" The captain explained with solemn eyes but with a hint of sadness in them.
Jeanne d'Arc had returned from the dead. Although the story about a pact with the devil sounded exaggerated—even in this universe—the worst part was that there was a real chance it could be true.
Before I could think more about it, a piercing roar echoed. The commander screamed in terror:
"Dragons!"
I turned my head and spotted half a dozen winged, green creatures.
They had green scales that shimmered under the sunlight, reflecting shades of emerald and jade. Their membranous wings, thin like ship sails, beat with a deep and rhythmic sound, like drums echoing in the air. Their bodies were slender but muscular, with long tails ending in sharp tips, like natural spears. Curved claws, black as obsidian, looked capable of tearing through even the sturdiest armor.
"Wyverns!" Ritsuka and I shouted in unison.
The wyverns opened their grotesque mouths, revealing rows of dagger-sharp teeth. From deep within their throats, an orange-red glow began to pulse, like lava about to erupt.
The soldiers, upon seeing those monsters, practically dropped their weapons. Meanwhile, my muscles tensed instantly, preparing to summon the Monkey King's armor, when a voice echoed across the battlefield:
"Soldats, restez fermes! (Soldiers, stand firm!)"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a young woman with golden hair holding a flag rolled around its shaft, running toward us, her long ponytail swaying.
The soldiers gasped, dropping their weapons entirely, staring at the newcomer as if they had just seen a ghost.
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