Chapter 6: The First Night
The night hung thick over the forest, broken only by the whisper of wind and the crackle of firewood.
Near the ruined workshop, two figures sat in silence—one forged of flesh and regret, the other of steel and spirit.
Muramasa quietly ran a whetstone down his blade, slow and methodical. Sparks danced in rhythm with the flames. Across from him, Riya sat cross-legged, staring into the fire like it might reveal something he hadn't yet found.
Eventually, Riya spoke.
"I never wanted to be here," he said, voice flat but honest. "I Don't care about the Grail. The war. Any of it."
Muramasa's sharpening didn't stop, but he listened.
"I took this path because it was the only one left. The only one that might… let me see them again."
Muramasa looked up, eyes calm and unreadable. "Family?"
Riya nodded. "Yeah."
The swordsman was quiet for a moment, then said, "That's a better reason than most."
Riya gave a tired smirk. "Doesn't mean I know what I'm doing."
"You don't need to. Just keep walking."
There was no oath, no pact. Just an understanding—silent, ironclad. They would stand together until the end, or fall together before it.
Later, after a quick meal and a sweep for magical traps, Riya lay down beside the dying fire.
He didn't expect rest. But something deeper pulled him under.
The stars above didn't shimmer—they watched. Cold, clear, endless.
Riya stood barefoot on a field of silver mist. And she was there.
Jeanne d'Arc.
Her presence didn't thunder like a goddess, nor shimmer like a fairy queen.
She was firm, grounded, and beautiful in her simplicity. Her armor was polished but worn, her posture straight despite the nervous shift in her stance.
"I… wasn't sure how this would go," she said quietly, eyes downcast.
Riya raised a brow. "What is this place?"
"A reflection. A space formed by our potential bond," Jeanne said, then hesitated. "To unlock my full strength, you must fully connect with me. That means more than mana. It means soul. It means spirit. It means...body"
Her hands trembled at her sides. She tried to hide it.
"I'm not… used to this," she admitted, her face a deep shade of red. "But I know what's at stake. I was born to save people. I died for them, too. If this is what it takes to ensure humanity's survival, then—"
She took a breath.
"Then I will do this. Not for myself. But for the world. And for you, who bears its weight."
Her voice didn't carry seduction. It carried purpose. Shame, perhaps. But no hesitation.
Riya stepped closer. "I won't force you."
"You don't have to," Jeanne said, her voice soft. "I choose this."
What followed wasn't passion—it was union. Soul-deep. Awkward, painful, shy—but honest.
The merging of two burdens, woven into one moment of shared purpose.
When Riya opened his eyes, he felt it immediately: her presence in his chest, steady and glowing like a third heartbeat along side his and Merlin's.
Jeanne's full strength was now his to call upon. Her will reinforced his. Her power would answer him—but only for ten minutes at a time once per day.
Muramasa sat where he had been all night, watching the moon begin to slip behind the trees.
"You're a wake, did you have a nice sleep?" he said without turning.
Riya stood, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Yeah."
"You look like hell," Muramasa added. "But somehow stronger."
Riya chuckled once. "That's about right."
The fire had died to embers.
Tomorrow, the world would start trying to kill them.
But tonight, tonight was nice.
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RIYA RIOT STATS:
Jeanne d'Arc:
Skills:
Magic Resistance:(EX)
True Name Discernment:(A)
God's Resolution:(A)
Revelation:(EX)
Charisma:(C)
Saint:(B)
Noble Phantasms:
Luminosité Eternelle:(A-)
La Pucelle:(A++)
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