"Ophis, do you have any preferences when it comes to clothes?" Jeanne asked gently, her fingers lacing through the smaller girl's hand as they walked. "Last time, I only picked things that I liked."
Ophis turned her head slightly, her expression as blank as ever, yet her words carried an unexpected weight.
"…I want what Jeanne wants."
Jeanne paused, then smiled warmly at her.
"That's adorable. But if you just choose whatever I like, we won't get very far." She tilted her head with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Do you like clothes similar to the… rather unique outfit you wore when we first met?"
Ophis gave a small hum, thoughtful.
"…Did Jeanne like it?"
That question made Jeanne stop in her tracks.
Her mind flashed back to their first encounter. That outfit—barely legal in most jurisdictions and bold enough to make bystanders look away in confusion or awe—was certainly unforgettable. Still… Jeanne had to admit, begrudgingly, that there was a certain charm to it.
A Gothic Lolita aesthetic, elaborate and unapologetically stylized. The kind of fashion that turned heads not because it sought approval, but because it demanded presence. Jeanne had always appreciated that kind of detail, from afar at least. Layers of frills, corseted waists, parasols, lace. It carried the romantic flair of medieval fashion reimagined for the modern eccentric.
But for her? Jeanne couldn't see herself pulling it off. The color scheme alone clashed too harshly with her own motif. Maybe if she were Jeanne Alter—it would suit her other self far better. Gothic was Alter's entire existence.
She recalled that some Servants actually wore such outfits. Abigail Williams came to mind immediately.
"I suppose… I'll give you that. I did find it cute," Jeanne finally admitted. "But don't wear exactly what you wore back then."
"…Why?"
Ophis blinked, her voice quiet but tinged with innocent confusion.
Jeanne's expression turned grave. She knelt slightly to meet Ophis at eye level and spoke as if delivering an ironclad law.
"Ophis-chan, there's a rule you must follow when dressing as a child."
"…A rule?"
"Yes." Jeanne nodded with solemn conviction. "For adults, some misguided people say more skin is better. But for children—it's the opposite. The less skin you show, the cuter and more charming you appear. Anyone who tells you otherwise is likely a villain you're allowed to destroy."
Ophis nodded earnestly.
"…Okay."
But then, her gaze lifted to Jeanne's with an unmistakable gleam of hope.
"…Will you wear it with me?"
Jeanne recoiled as if struck by lightning.
"Kggh…!"
A hand shot to her chest.
Too strong…!
Her mental defenses wavered beneath the sheer destructive force of Ophis's innocent request.
"M-Maybe if we match…" Jeanne muttered, barely managing a reply as she staggered back a step. If things spiraled out of control, she could always transform into Jeanne Alter. That version of her had the Goth thing down to an art.
Ophis nodded once.
"…Okay then."
Jeanne steadied herself and smiled.
"Then let's find some outfits!"
She took out her phone, her fingers dancing across the screen. The mall they were in was massive—so large it housed even the most obscure boutiques.
Gothic Lolita might have been a niche subculture in Japan, but it was well-known, and a few specialized shops still thrived for devoted enthusiasts.
Perfect.
Arriving at the nearest boutique tucked within the maze-like corridors of the mall, Jeanne and Ophis stepped into a space filled with elegance and pastel lighting.
Rows of frilly dresses lined the racks, and soft classical music trickled through the air. But amidst the layers of lace and ribbon, Jeanne's eyes caught sight of something far more unexpected.
'…Is that Mittelt?'
Her thoughts sharpened, gaze narrowing slightly as she observed the short blonde girl skimming through a catalog by the display mirror.
Mittelt's signature twin tails and tiny frame were unmistakable. She stood precariously on a small stool, just high enough to peek across the racks—an image that struck Jeanne as oddly cute, considering the girl's status.
'A Fallen Angel… in a dress store?'
Jeanne couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. The contrast was amusing.
'I thought the Fallen were too proud to mingle with humans like this… yet here she is, flipping through a frilly catalogue as if she belonged here.'
But then again, Asia hadn't arrived in Kuoh yet. Jeanne recalled the timeline.
With no urgent missions or incidents, it wasn't far-fetched that the Fallen would have some idle time on their hands.
Mittelt, sensing the gaze, slowly raised her head over the rack. Her eyes locked onto Jeanne's from above the frills. The small stepstool she stood on explained it—Jeanne remembered that Mittelt was the shortest among the four Fallen Angels in Kuoh.
"What are you staring at?"
Mittelt's voice was sharp, but restrained. She sounded more annoyed than aggressive, and unlike Dohnaseek—who made a habit of belittling others—Mittelt seemed to be consciously avoiding unnecessary conflict.
"Sorry. Just browsing," Jeanne replied casually, her tone smooth.
Despite her celestial arsenal, Jeanne had no interest in provoking anything here.
She wasn't eager to spam Metatron's ability either. Memory manipulation was tricky. Even if Metatron herself had no issues overwriting inconsistencies, it was risky and annoying.
People exposed to repeated hypnosis sometimes built resistance. And Jeanne wasn't in the mood to roll the dice.
Mittelt, contrary to her bratty persona in the anime, seemed a little more grounded here. Perhaps it was the presence of other shoppers, or simply a moment of rare discretion. Either way, she gave a soft "hmph" and returned to flipping through the clothes without another word.
'Now that I think about it… where do the Fallen Angels even get their clothes from?'
Jeanne mused as she glanced at Mittelt again.
'Do they have some hidden celestial tailor or underground designer?'
Apparently not.
'So Raynare wore that ridiculous outfit by choice?'
She stifled a snort. Bold taste, if nothing else.
Jeanne's eyes shifted downward. Ophis was wandering beside her, quiet as usual, her gaze drifting between the rows of dresses. Jeanne knelt slightly.
"Ophis-chan, do you see anything you like?"
The girl turned to her, her expression blank but her voice soft.
"…Jeanne."
She simply pointed at her.
Jeanne let out a sigh and gently cradled her forehead.
'This kid's been saying stuff like this nonstop lately… Is this what they mean by kids being corrupted by the internet? Wait, no—stop. I sound like a boomer.'
She gave a wry smile.
"I meant clothes, Ophis."
Ophis turned her head again, scanning the options.
"…I don't know."
"That's fine." Jeanne's voice softened. "Let's just walk around until you spot something that catches your eye, okay?"
Ophis gave a small nod, then tugged at Jeanne's sleeve.
"Hm?"
The girl hesitated for a few seconds. Her brows knitted faintly, as if deep in thought.
"…I can't see from down here."
"Oh, I see." Jeanne chuckled. "Then let me carry you."
With practiced ease, she scooped Ophis into her arms. The girl nestled herself against Jeanne, releasing a small contented breath as she buried her face into the nape of her neck.
"…Ophis-chan," Jeanne said flatly. "I don't think you can see anything if you're shoving your face into my neck like that."
"…I can see," Ophis mumbled. "I have Dragon Powers."
Jeanne raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.
"Then why do I need to carry you if you have all-powerful Dragon Powers?"
That stopped Ophis cold. Her lips pursed. Silence.
"…I lied. I can't see."
Slowly, she lifted her head and began looking around properly, the air of mystique completely gone.
"…Is that so?"
Jeanne asked, feigning surprise.
"…Mhm."
Ophis nodded solemnly.
"…Crow?"
"…Bad guy?"
Ophis mumbled, her voice as light as the wind, as she glanced toward the blonde girl immersed in measuring a dress that was clearly several sizes too large for her petite frame.
Mittelt, still preoccupied with the fabric, felt the weight of a gaze and turned instinctively to snap at Jeanne. But the moment her eyes met Ophis's, her breath hitched.
And she froze.
Time didn't stop—but it may as well have.
Those eyes. That gaze. They were not the eyes of a child.
It was a void. A chasm that seemed to pull at her soul. Her skin prickled. Her heart kicked violently in her chest, a primal part of her mind screaming run.
She didn't blink.
She couldn't.
Her instincts, honed through centuries of battle and betrayal, shouted at her louder than reason: That is not human. That is not safe. That is not something that should exist here.
And yet, there was nothing. No pressure. No aura. No pulse of spiritual power. It was complete, unshakable absence.
What… is this?
Mittelt's thoughts spiraled.
She had stood near Cadres before. She'd caught glimpses of Azazel from afar, and even without trying, beings of their level radiated presence—charisma so dense it felt like gravity. Even suppressed, it pressed on you like the weight of divine judgment.
But this—this child—emitted nothing.
There was no sense of scale, no divine authority, no demonic hunger, no elemental signature. It was like staring into a blank spot in the world, something that shouldn't be, yet stood before her all the same.
It's like… it doesn't exist.
And then came the dread. Not the kind borne of fear, but the kind that crawled into her soul and whispered of oblivion.
A vision slammed into her—death, again and again, endless, looping, a sensation of her entire existence unraveling into dust.
As she drowned in that black void that stared back at her with childish stillness, an ancient word rose unbidden in her mind. Something she had read in the scrolls of the Grigori, half-myth, half-warning.
She was a relatively recent Fallen. Barely a century had passed since her fall. That meant she was still unfamiliar with many things and too familiar with others. Even now, despite her ambitions, she held onto fragments of her identity as an angel.
It was why she wanted rank. To rise. To matter.
But that ambition meant she had also studied. And the name whispered in fear across both Heaven and Hell came to her now like a thunderclap in the silence.
Dragon.
Not just any dragon—one that existed beyond understanding. Beyond life and death. A being stronger than even Father Himself.
The Ouroboros Dragon.
The Infinite Dragon God.
Ophis.
'W-Why?! Why is she here?!'
Panic gripped her like chains. Her body trembled violently, knees threatening to buckle. She didn't know what Ophis was doing here. She didn't care.
There was no fight to be had. No logic. No survival.
Only fear.
Raw, animalistic fear.
"I–I…"
Her voice cracked like ice.
"S–save me…"
Her legs gave way, dropping her to the polished floor of the boutique. The sound of her knees hitting the tile echoed far too loudly in the dainty atmosphere. Her hands clutched at the fabric of the dress rack beside her, knuckles white.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, unbidden.
She wasn't crying out of pain.
She was crying because she had looked into the abyss.
And the abyss had not even acknowledged her.
Jeanne, who had been casually browsing through a rack of dresses—only half-listening to Ophis's occasional murmurs—blinked in confusion at the sudden shift in atmosphere. A low, unfamiliar sound had echoed through the boutique, followed by a thud.
She turned around.
Mittelt had collapsed.
The petite Fallen Angel, earlier so smug and aloof, now clutched herself on the ground as though she'd been struck by a divine punishment.
'What the... why does she look like she's seen death itself?'
Jeanne tilted her head, brows furrowing. She hadn't done anything. Her power had been suppressed, her presence passive. There was no reason for a low-ranking Fallen to react like this.
"I didn't even glare at you," Jeanne said blankly. "Why're you looking at me like I'm going to kill you?"
Her tone was flat, more baffled than accusatory.
Then she noticed it. Mittelt's wide, shaking eyes weren't even looking at her.
They were locked slightly to her side.
Jeanne's gaze followed.
Ophis.
The girl she was carrying was like a shadow—expression blank, unbothered, her black eyes calmly resting on the collapsed Mittelt. It was the same neutral stare Ophis always wore when examining something new, something that piqued her vague interest.
Jeanne blinked again.
"Ophis?"
Ophis turned her head toward her.
"…Hmm?"
The moment their eyes met, Mittelt let out a sharp gasp—as though she had finally broken the surface of deep water. Her whole body trembled. Her breath came in rapid, shuddering gulps. Her heart thundered in her chest, deafening to her ears, as the rush of adrenaline made her limbs weak and numb.
Her blouse clung to her back from cold sweat.
'I… I almost died! I actually thought I was going to die!'
Jeanne looked at her, concerned but still slightly clueless. "What are you doing to her?"
She motioned to Mittelt, who was now curled up, hugging herself as if trying to hold her own body together.
"…Crow. Bad guy. Wednesday."
Ophis spoke without looking away.
Jeanne raised a brow.
"…Wednesday? What does—oh."
It clicked.
So Ophis had seen Dohnaseek's hostility the other day, when Jeanne thought the child had been at home. Dohnaseek, the overly aggressive Fallen who had clearly been planning something and who Jeanne had sent away through the Quill of Enoch.
'Wait, what happened to my Revelation? Shouldn't that have at least told me she was there?'
Jeanne's thoughts soured. Ophis had completely bypassed it—just like that. Did her authority mean nothing against dragons? But Ddraig was weaker than she had expected?
"Ophis," Jeanne said gently, "just because one Fallen was mean to me doesn't mean all of them are bad, okay?"
Ophis tilted her head, considering it for a moment. Then, wordlessly, she turned her gaze back to Mittelt.
Mittelt, who had barely begun to breathe normally again, found herself freezing up once more as those abyssal eyes returned.
But this time—it was different.
The crushing sense of void, that suffocating nothingness, was gone. It was just a pair of calm black eyes.
Even so, her body instinctively flinched under the gaze.
"…You friend with bad guy?"
Ophis asked.
Mittelt blinked, confused. Then looked at Jeanne, who casually explained while flipping through a blouse.
"She means Dohnaseek."
Mittelt's survival instincts kicked in at full force.
Her voice cracked, high-pitched with panic. "N-no, Infinite Dragon God! I don't know that man! Never met him! Don't even like his fashion sense!"
Jeanne stifled a laugh at the desperate attempt.
'This girl's completely bullshitting—but I can't even blame her. Honestly? Kinda impressive.'
She smiled in amusement.
But then something in her mind went still.
Something clicked. Or rather—stopped clicking.
She froze.
Her thoughts came to a grinding halt.
And in that suspended moment, she blinked.
"…Wait."
Her voice dropped, quiet and uncertain.
Had she… actually said Infinite Dragon God just now?
Jeanne slowly turned her head back toward Ophis.
Her expression darkened with sudden, creeping realization.
"Infinite Dragon God? What's that?"
Jeanne felt like she should know what Mittelt was talking about.
The words sounded familiar—too familiar—but when she tried to recall anything beyond the Excalibur Arc, her memory turned to fog. It was like trying to grasp smoke with her bare hands. Slippery. Elusive.
Across from her, Mittelt blinked, surprised by Jeanne's composure.
"T-The Ouroboros…! The Strongest Existence!"
Jeanne raised a brow.
'Wow. That's some dramatic title. What's next, "The Honored One"?'
She glanced down at Ophis, unfazed.
"…Ophis-chan," she called.
Mittelt's eyes bulged. 'O-Ophis-chan? Is she trying to get herself killed?!'
Before the panicked Fallen could speak, Jeanne slipped her hands under Ophis's arms and lifted her up, holding her at eye level like a parent trying to understand a child.
"Are you some kind of super overpowered being?"
Ophis tilted her head with a soft hum.
"…I don't know."
Jeanne gave her a flat look.
"So was what the Fallen said true?"
"…People call me that. I don't know much."
A heavy sigh escaped Jeanne's lips. At the sound, Ophis visibly flinched.
"…Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought it wasn't important."
Her answer was sincere, not deflective.
'Honestly… for someone with that few thoughts in her head, that actually tracks.'
"…Are you going to leave me now…?"
The question came softly. Too softly.
Jeanne's eyes widened.
"No," she answered, voice firm and immediate. "Ophis, I'm not mad. I'm just surprised. That's all."
She gently lowered the girl but didn't let go.
"Unless you want to leave, I'd never push you away. I'm not that shallow."
Ophis stared in silence.
"You really thought I'd leave you over something like that…?"
Ophis blinked once.
Then, suddenly, she shook her head—hard.
"No…!"
The outburst startled Jeanne. It was the first time she'd heard the child raise her voice.
Jeanne softened.
"Then there's no problem. I was just caught off guard finding out you're, well… really strong."
"…Really?"
"Yeah. And I'm pretty strong too, you know. So as long as you don't want to leave, I'll never leave you either."
Her tone was steady. Warm.
This wasn't a promise made from pity or impulse—it was the truth.
Jeanne had spent enough time with Ophis to understand. Whether she was a god or a monster, the so-called Strongest Existence, or just a girl—Ophis was gentle. Airheaded, sure. A little clingy, yes. But sincere.
And Jeanne had always respected sincerity.
"…I'll never want to…"
"Then I guess that makes two of us."
Jeanne smiled as she said it.
Ophis blinked.
Something bloomed inside her chest at that moment. A strange warmth she couldn't name. But it felt… nice.
"…Okay."
Jeanne gave her a tight hug, then hoisted her back up, resting her comfortably on her arm.
Ophis, as expected, buried her face into Jeanne's nape.
Realizing she wouldn't be involved in the rest of the conversation, Jeanne didn't mind.
She simply let her cling.
"Now then…"
Jeanne turned her gaze to Mittelt, who looked as if she'd just watched a unicorn swear allegiance to a mortal.
'T-The Ouroboros… being that familiar with a human?!'
Jeanne spoke plainly. "So, what are you going to do now?"
"A-Are you going to kill me…?"
Though the suffocating pressure had faded, the awareness that her next words might dictate her fate made her tremble.
Jeanne gave a half-shrug.
"Do you want to die?"
Mittelt frantically shook her head, eyes glossy with panic.
"Then are you going to tell anyone?"
"N-Never!"
Jeanne narrowed her eyes. "And how can I trust you? Aren't you with Raynare?"
Mittelt blinked. 'How does this human know that…?' She dared not ask. Her mind raced for a solution, then it came to her in a flash of desperation.
"I-I'll abandon them and join you!"
Jeanne hummed thoughtfully. In truth, she was more amused than anything. No one else had entered the store, and she hadn't actually needed to push the conversation this far. She could've wiped Mittelt's memory and called it a day. But this was fun.
"And what do I gain from that?"
Mittelt froze.
"I-I can clean! Do housework! Anything!"
Jeanne's brow rose. A Fallen Angel doing chores? Now that was a comedy waiting to happen. Still, it might be useful. Ophis could use someone to hang out with during the school day...
"…Alright. Sure."
Mittelt blinked as if she'd misheard.
"...What?"
"I said sure. Don't look so shocked—I wasn't planning on killing you anyway. But if you're offering, I'll take it."
Being under a human felt humiliating, but… if this woman could sway the whimsical and distant Infinite Dragon God, then she wasn't just any human.
"Y-Yes, ma'am!"
Jeanne scribbled something on a slip of paper and handed it to her.
"Then leave your little group by today. No lingering. Come to this address tonight. If I find out you've snitched…"
She let the silence hang.
Mittelt received the address like it was a sacred scripture, nodding quickly.
"Y-Yes, ma'am!"
Jeanne gave a nod of approval before adding on. "Don't call me ma'am. Jeanne is fine."
"T-The Saint?"
"I'm not the saint, but yeah. Same name."
"Y-Yes, Jeanne."
Jeanne smiled. "Much better. Then I'll see you tonight."
Mittelt nodded rapidly before fleeing the store like a spirit had left her body.
If she broke the agreement, Jeanne figured Revelation would probably inform her. Then she could erase Mittelt and her crew without much fuss.
'They were the ones who broke the contract first anyway, right? Their clueless comrades can count as collateral.'
The thought appeared unprompted, and Jeanne paused.
'Wait… where'd that come from? Was that Jeanne Alter? Or… maybe I'm just feeling a little whimsical today…'
With a casual shrug, she gently patted Ophis on the head.
"Well, that was weird. Want to leave, grab lunch, and come back another time?"
Ophis nodded, small and certain.
"…Mhm."
--+--
A/N: I think I cooked with this. Also, thank you for 1k Power Stones like that's lowkey insane.
Also, for a single conversation, this chapter is long as hell. The entire conversation took up the entire chapter like... But overall, the chapter is on the shorter side.
Also, for the people who rated this low cause they're asking why I didn't just put it on female lead, it's cause I don't know why I feel like it doesn't belong, cause I made this for a male audience. It's like that manga tag: female lead with male audience. Also I put it here cause it just gets more views in general and I get more clout(jokes).
Also, the whimsical and brutal part... I have an explanation for it but it's a separate plot point that I was thinking of.
I saved mittelt. Sorry for the Kalawarna likers.
I took a day break cause I was reading the ORV manhwa, cried at the Demon King area, then came back to write.
Someone asked for a Jeanne Stat Sheet, so the rest will be that.
--+--
Name: Jeanne d'Arc (Neutral Good) - Vessel - Saint Jeanne.
Strength: B
Endurance: B
Agility: A
Mana: A
Luck: C
NP: A++
Class Skills
- Magic Resistance: EX
- True Name Discernment: B
- God's Resolution: A
Personal Skills
- Revelation: A
- At the End of the Pure and Clear Prayers: EX (Activates at Random Times)
- Charisma: C
- Saint: B
- Reinstatement of the Radiant Holy Light (Haven't found a use for this): A
- Endless Enjoy Summer: A (Only when wearing a swimsuit)
- Holy Maiden of the Waterside (Dolphin): A+ (Only when wearing a swimsuit)
- Servant Cheer!: B (Only when wearing a swimsuit)
Crossover Skills (Skills that affect Jeanne(Neutral) despite not naturally being there originating from her other parts. Often Degraded.)
- Self-Replenishment(Mana): C+
- Dragon Witch: B
- Throne Creation: B (Can Materialize it. Cannot use it's energy source outwardly.)
- Bestowal of Seven Sins(Sloth): C+
Noble Phantasm
- Luminosite Eternelle: A
- La Pucelle: C/EX
- Des Oceans d'Allegresse: A+ (Only when wearing a swimsuit)
--+--
Name: Jeanne d'Arc (Neutral Evil) - Vessel - Jeanne Alter.
Strength: A
Endurance: C
Agility: A
Mana: A+
Luck: E
NP: A+
Class Skills
- Avenger: B
- Oblivion Correction: A
- Self-Replenishment (Mana): A+
- Mad Enhancement: EX (Only when in a swimsuit)
Personal Skills
- Self Modification: EX
- Dragon Witch: EX
- Ephemeral Dream: A -> EX
- Schwarzward Falke: B (Only when wearing a swimsuit)
- Fallen Witch: A+ (Only when wearing a swimsuit)
- Meurs Ou tu Dois: B (Only when wearing a swimsuit)
Crossover Skills (Skills that affect Jeanne(Evil) despite not naturally being there originating from her other parts. Often Degraded.)
- Magic Resistance: EX
- Charisma: D
- True Name Discernment: C
- Throne Creation: D (Can only materialize the throne. No power from the throne.)
- Bestowal of Seven Sins (Sloth): E
Noble Phantasm
- La Grondement Du Haine: A+ -> EX
- Volkermord Feuerdrache: A+
--+--
Name: Jeanne d'Arc (Lawful Neutral) - Vessel - Metatron Jeanne.
Strength: A
Endurance: A
Agility: E
Mana: EX
Luck: EX
NP: EX
Class Skills
- Independent Manifestation (Angel): EX
- Throne Creation: EX
- Divine Core of the Archangel: B
- Bestowal of the Seven Sins (Sloth): A
Personal Skills
- True Name 72: A
- Angel of Contracts: B+
- Absolute Agent: EX
Crossover Skills (Skills that affect Jeanne(Neutral) despite not naturally being there originating from her other parts. Often Degraded. Compatibility between Saint Jeanne and Metatron Jeanne somewhat compensates for normal degradation)
- Magic Resistance: A+
- Dragon Witch: E+
- God's Resolution: A
- Revelation: A
- Charisma: D+
- Holy Maiden of the Waterside (Dolphin): B+
Noble Phantasm
- Sant-du-mont Pilier: EX
- Univers Immortel Metatron: EX
--+--
Equipment (Shared Between Forms)
Luminosite Eternelle (Flag) - Saint Jeanne
Luminosite Eternelle (Cursed) - Jeanne Alter
Divine Construct: Qulll of Enoch - Metatron Jeanne - Jeanne Alter Cannot Use
Divine Construct: Throne of God - Metatron Jeanne - Jeanne Alter Cannot Use
--+--
And there you go.
Let me know about some inconsistencies. Also included the swimsuit versions as well, even if I don't know what half of Jeanne Alter's swimsuit skills even do.
Similar to how Jeanne Alter's Dragon Witch barely effects Metatron Jeanne, Metatron Jeanne's Bestowal of Seven Sins are extremely lessened to Jeanne Alter.
I found it funny how the person with the least amount of sloth is the most evil one. I also changed alignments through the combinations of the original personality. The original personality's alignment is True Neutral for the people asking. She's also the most whimsical.