"Ham, hafu hafu, hafu!"
"…Was super spicy really okay?" Emiya asked. "I could've toned it down…"
"Ham, hafu hafu, hafu!"
"…Alright then…"
"Ham, hafu hafu, hafu!"
"Run!"
Jeanne shielded soldiers from wyverns with her flag, shouting.
"Y-You're…!" a soldier stammered.
"I'll hold them here!" Jeanne urged. "Escape, quickly!"
She rallied the soldiers, as she had in life.
Brandishing her flag, she halted the wyverns, shouting.
"Don't run!" a soldier yelled. "She's the witch—the Dragon Witch!"
Heartless accusations flew.
"Slay her! Avenge our homeland!"
"Ngh—!"
Jeanne shielded herself from arrows. Groaning under attacks from former allies.
"…Talk about being vilified by those you protect, White Saint," a voice sneered.
Claws slashed from a pool of blood—Jeanne twisted, barely dodging.
Carmilla emerged, a vampire cloaked in mockery.
"Wyverns," she commanded. "Do it."
The wyverns turned toward the soldiers.
Not on my watch. Protect France, save France.
Under the Saint of Fists' prayer, Jeanne declares—
"—Evil dragons trampling my homeland!" she roared. "Hear my voice!"
Raising her flag high, she hurled her words at the beasts.
"My name is Jeanne—Jeanne d'Arc! I took up this flag to save France!"
She declared. The saint, her doubts severed, bellowed.
"The Lord's will is here, my unyielding resolve is here! Your claws and fangs will never pierce my oath!"
She struck down wyverns one by one—piercing heads, swinging, scattering them.
"—I am she whom the King of Heroes named 'Fortress'!" she cried. "Know that no half-hearted torment will break this heart and body—!"
Switching her flag to one hand, she drew her sword, slicing through wyverns.
"…Why's Jeanne fighting dragons?" a soldier muttered.
"Who cares?" another spat. "Let them kill each other."
Their hateful words stung, confusion and loathing hitting her back.
"That witch who burned our homes can rot…!"
"YAAAAH!"
Sword in hand, Jeanne charged Carmilla.
"Your war cries won't change your fate, White Saint," Carmilla mocked, parrying with her iron staff.
"They're spectating carefree because you're holding back the wyverns," she sneered.
"…!"
"You're struggling, writhing—how comical."
Carmilla pushed back, her presence oppressive.
"You're branded an enemy by the France you'd save!" she laughed. "Tell me, how does it feel? Want to kill them? Or die yourself?"
Jeanne fell to one knee, the pressure mounting—
"Want to drive that flag like a spear?" Carmilla taunted. "Not into wyverns—but them!"
"I'm used to being misunderstood!" Jeanne retorted.
She swiftly stabbed Carmilla's foot with her sword.
"—Tch!"
Seizing the moment, Jeanne kicked, reversing their positions.
"They're fine," Jeanne said. "If they can hate and resent, they'll keep living. Their hearts aren't dead."
"You're the one they hate," Carmilla pointed out.
"Of course!" Jeanne said. "But their hatred doesn't justify hating them back."
She gripped her flag, fist clenched.
"I'll save France—!" she declared. "They're among those I want to save! If their hatred fuels their will to live, I'll gladly offer this body!"
"—Are you sane?" Carmilla muttered, confusion in her voice.
No more running.
No more doubting.
No more hesitating before lives I can save.
I am Jeanne d'Arc.
A human who rose with prayer in her heart—!
(Right, Saint Martha—?!)
"So," Carmilla hissed, "white or black, you're all mad—! Wyverns!"
More wyverns surged. Bad—this is too much…!
Then—
"Support her!" a voice roared. "Fire on the wyverns—!"
Cannons roared, explosions thundering.
"What—?!" Carmilla gasped.
"They're—!" Jeanne exclaimed.
"Don't care if she's Jeanne or not!" a soldier shouted. "She's with that traveler—that's enough for us to help!"
The soldiers from the fort we first met…!
"Fire, fire, keep firing!" another yelled. "Repay the debt for our lives! Don't slack!"
"Leave this to us, flag girl!"
"—Yes!"
Reinforcements kept coming.
"Artillery!" a voice commanded. "Fire—!"
Disciplined cannon fire struck the wyverns from another direction.
That voice—!
"Gilles…!"
"Don't stop!" Gilles shouted. "Don't let one girl face death alone! Use every shell—fire—!"
BOOM, BOOM! Explosions chained, wyverns falling in droves.
"—Now!"
Jeanne drove her flag into the ground.
Saint Martha, your prayer—!
Clenching her fist, she dropped into a low stance.
"YAAAAH!"
"Tch—"
She swung her fist—like the saint before her—!
"YAAAAH!"
An Iron Maiden materialized before her—she smashed through regardless!
BOOM! The blast shattered the Iron Maiden to pieces.
Nice muscles, kid.
Martha's voice seemed to echo in her mind.
"What monstrous strength…!" Carmilla gasped. "A Ruler, even fallen—!"
"Country girl—!"
A radiant ship tore through the battlefield—Gilgamesh's Vimana, flying low with the entire crew aboard—!
To retrieve Jeanne—!
"King of Heroes!"
"Time to retreat—!"
Reach out—reach—!
"—!"
Jeanne stretched her hand, answering the call.
"You've gotten used to rough work!" Gilgamesh said. "A failure as a passenger, but for you, I'll allow it!"
"Being treated like cargo stings!" Jeanne huffed. "I'm a lady!"
"What's that dangling on your chest if not cargo?!"
"Wha—King of Heroes, you—!"
The king's banter never ceased. But now—!
"Haha, cargo collected!" Gilgamesh laughed. "Fine harvest—time to return! Vimana, ascend!"
Their hands locked firmly—Gilgamesh and Jeanne's.
With a sudden acceleration, Vimana soared, shaking off all pursuit, vanishing into the sky…
"…This is as far as it goes," Carmilla said. "Destroying an Iron Maiden… such barbarity."
Poof. Carmilla vanished.
"Stay safe, traveler—!" a soldier called.
"Thanks for the help—!"
"Marshal…"
"…I don't understand," Gilles said. "Is she Jeanne? The one who struck down Charles VII? A vile impostor?"
"Talk to them," another urged. "Find out who these warriors with the golden ship are."
Golden ether's remnants trailed into the distant sky—
"Ham, hafu hafu, hafu!"
"—Thanks for the meal! (Collapse)"
"Oh, Jeanne, fainting like that? Pathetic," Tamamo teased.
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