Artoria believed that Jeanne Alter must be saved.
Without a doubt, this was because her "heart of honor" was stirring again.
As a knight with a noble spirit, she particularly couldn't stand plots where "a hero falls to become a villain"—especially after learning of Jeanne's deeds and how she was betrayed by those shameful traitors.
"If the justice of the world cannot right the wrongs done to her, then her revenge becomes a noble act."
This was how Artoria evaluated Jeanne Alter's actions.
Even though Bailong had told her that this Jeanne Alter was an imitation, a sacred existence twisted by a magus's wish—did that even matter?
"What's important is not what she thinks," Artoria's voice became incredibly serious. "It's how the world sees it."
To burn a hero who had saved the country alive under the pretense of "judging a heretic"—honestly, Artoria really wanted to crack open the current English king's skull to see what was inside.
Did he really think such an act would boost his own side's morale and weaken the enemy's confidence?
What a joke!
"It doesn't matter if she was the Sainted Maiden or not. After she was betrayed by traitors and burned at the stake by her enemies, this era, and everyone living in it—be they English or French—they have all been nailed to the pillar of shame in history!"
...
Artoria and Bailong left the town named Orléans.
Jeanne Alter had assigned a task to each of her Servants, allocating one city per person, intending to rapidly destroy the country this way.
The city assigned to Artoria and Bailong was Lyon—an ancient city where tribes had settled since the 6th century BC, with a population that once exceeded two hundred thousand at its peak.
"So, what's your plan for the civilians?"
"I haven't decided yet..."
Bailong and Artoria traveled towards the bustling city by "walking," undoubtedly to stall for time.
What was interesting was that they weren't the only ones with this idea.
"Hey, you're a Saber, right?"
A clear and bright voice suddenly sounded from behind them. "Looking at you... you don't seem to be affected by this madness?"
It was a purple-haired woman holding a long, cruciform staff, dressed in a white monastic robe.
A black aura of madness roiled faintly around her, yet her eyes were exceptionally bright, not at all like someone under the influence of Mad Enhancement.
"I wouldn't say that... it does affect me, but I've forcibly suppressed it."
"Ah, my apologies. My name is Martha. I've been summoned to this world in the Rider class. I'm glad to see you two haven't been affected by the madness either."
...
The Iron Fist Saint, Martha.
One of the Messiah's companions, she had hosted the Savior with her siblings and found faith under his guidance.
After the Messiah's ascension, she did not abandon her faith. Instead, she wandered to Europe and, in a town in the south of France, subdued a dragon named Tarasque.
It is said that when she subdued that dragon, she recited the Lord's teachings while letting the dragon feel the Lord's power with her fists. It's unknown which power truly subdued it, but in the end, this dragon beast, which looked like a six-legged turtle, became Martha's mount.
This was also why she could be summoned to the present world in the Rider class.
"Is this your dragon?" Martha asked, looking at the white dragon standing beside Artoria. It was now only three or four meters long, its large white head particularly conspicuous. "It's so cute!"
This dragon was the main reason Martha had noticed Artoria.
As fellow Dragon Tamers, a mutual attraction was, of course, a very normal thing.
And when Martha, after careful observation, discovered that this Heroic Spirit, completely clad in white metal armor, seemed unaffected by the madness, she became even more excited and happy.
"Excellent! As expected of a Heroic Spirit who can command a dragon, you're different!"
"By the way, what's your take on that little one?"
"Driven mad by a righteous vengeance, she must be saved to prove God's love? Yes, exactly, that's it!"
On the issue of Jeanne Alter, Martha quickly reached a consensus with Artoria.
In fact, Martha's sympathy for that Jeanne Alter was even stronger than Artoria's.
"If He were here, He would surely reach out and pour holy oil on her head, wouldn't He?"
"She is without a doubt the most excellent of children. Even being burned to death, she did not abandon her faith... Never mind, let's not think about such things. Let's think about how to save that child, and how to deal with the errands she's given us."
A troubled look also appeared on Martha's face.
Clearly, she had encountered the same problem as Artoria—neither a saint nor a knight could bring themselves to harm ordinary people, let alone bring disaster to this world.
"If only someone could stop us," Martha said suddenly.
Could someone stop them? Perhaps.
According to Martha's understanding of that "Holy Grail," when a world-ending disaster occurred, the Grail would summon a corresponding miracle—Heroic Spirits would be summoned to this land to save this era.
But... was it really reliable to pin their hopes on those unknown Heroic Spirits?
"Wait, stop us?"
"Hmm... I've suddenly thought of a way."
Artoria pondered for a moment.
Then, this king of ideas from Britain, as if she had suddenly thought of something, her eyes began to shine.
"Do you know who I am?" she suddenly asked Martha.
"I don't know."
Martha shook her head in confusion, looking at the Heroic Spirit completely encased in armor, a blank look on her face.
And this was exactly the effect Artoria wanted.
"You don't know?"
Not knowing is perfect!
No one knows who the person inside this armor is.
In that case, she could be... anyone!
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