"Do you still remember how to write your own name—the one I taught you before?"
Jeanne's footsteps clearly stiffened at his words. Laurent could tell immediately that she'd completely forgotten again.
Should I say 'as expected of a village girl and an illiterate'?
"You see, back then, you'd follow me around foolishly, but now even you've changed."
He pretended to sigh dramatically, filled with mock regret.
"Ah, times have indeed changed. I really miss the old Jeanne who used to cling to me and ask endless questions. Sadly, we can't return to those days."
Jeanne instantly spun around, clearly annoyed. This time, her irritation finally exploded.
"Laurent! Now I'm really getting angry!"
Yet Laurent just shrugged casually, completely unafraid of her threat.
"Getting angry won't change the facts. Remind me—who was it again that used to pretend to be my big sister, even making me call her 'Sister Jeanne'?"
Seeing his laid-back expression, Jeanne immediately rushed back, hitting him lightly with her small fists.
"That's because you messed up my haystack!"
"What's so important about a pile of hay?"
Because there were poor villagers without beds, Jeanne had given hers away to them. Though those beds were only rough planks, at least it was better than nothing.
At first, Laurent had been firmly opposed to this—he'd even tried to stop her. But he'd ultimately failed.
Not just failed, either. Eventually, he'd even been "converted" by her and donated his own bed too.
Damn, this saintess was just too sweet for her own good. He'd tried resisting, but she was simply too adorable to refuse.
So now, each night, in the small hut next to their house, two piles of straw served as their beds.
And Jeanne actually seemed quite fond of her little pile of straw.
Laurent couldn't understand at all—wouldn't it be nicer to sleep comfortably, each in their own room?
He stood there letting Jeanne gently strike him with her soft little fists, feeling like this was the Jeanne d'Arc he knew best.
That worried expression from earlier should never appear on a girl like her.
He wished she could always remain like this.
Besides, the system had told him to come here to correct history…but correct what exactly? Was there something abnormal happening?
If anything, wasn't his presence itself the abnormality now?
Right now, no new hints, no new tasks. Just two paths placed before him, one of which he couldn't even access yet.
Wait a minute… The Path of the Hero… Hero…
Suddenly, Laurent felt a burst of clarity.
Could it be that the so-called "hero" referred precisely to supporting Jeanne's choices, accompanying her through everything?
But that would make him a national hero, wouldn't it? He didn't care for that at all.
If possible, he'd rather become just one girl's personal hero.
...
"Finally done! Tonight, I'll definitely have a good drink."
"Careful, Norse. If your wife catches you, you'll be in for it."
By the time Laurent and Jeanne finished all their work and came over, the issue seemed to have been resolved already.
Laurent watched the villagers strangely. They'd been given three days, yet why did everyone suddenly look relaxed?
"Oh? Isn't that the brat Laurent?"
Quickly, Uncle Norse noticed Laurent and Jeanne.
He slapped the back of another man beside him, who turned his gaze over as well.
"Laurent? Finished all your tasks already?"
It was actually just simple farming.
This man, with a bit of graying stubble on his face, was Jeanne's father, Jacques d'Arc.
In Laurent's mind, Jacques was a decent leader with some authority in the village.
"Brat, got some time tonight? Come have a drink with me!"
He threw his arm around Laurent's shoulder, making him sweat a little awkwardly.
If Jacques had one flaw, it would be his occasionally carefree personality.
"You're an adult dragging me off to drink—are you sure that's a good idea?"
This time, however, Jacques tightened his grip slightly, clearly signaling he had something serious to say.
Laurent's gaze immediately shifted to the girl behind him.
"Papa, did something happen?"
Jeanne finally voiced the question she'd kept inside until now.
From the moment they'd passed through the village, she'd noticed how grim everyone's faces had become. Some villagers had despair practically written all over them.
If even she could see that, Laurent naturally knew too.
Seeing his daughter's worried face, Jacques didn't try to hide it. She'd find out sooner or later if she asked someone else anyway.
"The people who came today weren't the same group as last time. They demanded food again in three days. We explained repeatedly that we had none left, but it seems to have angered them. Eventually, we managed to negotiate a bit more time—three months. If we still can't gather enough by then, who knows what they'll do."
"H-how can that be…?"
Jeanne staggered back two steps, trembling slightly, unsteady on her feet.
"But we already gave almost all our food last time, didn't we? Even three months… winter is nearly here…"
"Maybe that's precisely why they want so much now."
Jacques sighed helplessly.
"But Jeanne, you don't need to worry about this. Let us adults handle it. Laurent and I have some things to discuss—go home and wait there."
Instead, Laurent stepped forward, gently supporting the shaken girl.
"You shouldn't have told her about this."
"Laurent…what do we do now…? There's no way we can gather enough this time, is there?"
Her hands trembled slightly; Laurent clearly felt it.
He gently held her hand in reassurance.
"It'll be fine. Everything has its solution. Even if you don't believe me, believe in your Lord."
What bullshit.
Though he said these words aloud, Laurent felt no comfort himself.
He remembered clearly: Jeanne's divine revelation historically came from Archangel Michael, Saint Margaret, and Saint Catherine. Michael was supposed to embody absolute justice—he annihilated anything evil without mercy.
But now, Laurent was beginning to doubt. Why would this angel of absolute justice burden such an innocent girl with these trials?
Was this what people called, "Great responsibility falls upon the chosen?"
"But Laurent…everyone in the village is already starving. Under these conditions, how can we possibly gather that much food?"
"We'll find a way."
Laurent's voice was gentle, calmly repeating these simple words. Yet somehow, Jeanne felt inexplicably comforted.
Watching from the side, Jacques felt a pang of bitterness.
His daughter…when it came to comforting her, his own words weren't as effective as a single sentence from this young brat.
---
T/N: move over old man