"Rescue the Holy Maiden!"
From within the crowd, a group suddenly surged forward, weapons in hand, charging toward Jeanne.
Someone shouted first—
"That's a miracle!"
"It must be God punishing the demon!"
"Our brethren—save the Holy Maiden!"
"Viva la France!"
They followed the script exactly as planned.
And upon that platform of execution—
As the Luobishi divine sword pierced Laurent's heart, he reached up, touching his chest with a delayed, almost curious motion. His vision blurred, his hands slick with blood.
So this is death?
The thought came strangely calm.
He had drawn all the world's hatred onto himself, quietly shaping England's future and handing the right of succession to Henry VI.
A tyrant? A cruel king?
Perhaps that was how history would remember him.
But in return—so long as his infamy deepened, the Holy Maiden's sanctity would shine ever brighter.
That burden wasn't hers to bear. Even if every soul on earth abandoned her—even if those damned, feathered messengers of Heaven turned their backs on her—he never would.
All glory, all light—those should belong to her.
The name of a demon? That, he could bear alone.
After this, once Jeanne was rescued, the world would see her as the Holy Maiden who saved it. She would shine again—radiant beyond compare.
What a pity… I won't get to see it.
I wonder… since I carry a trace of divinity, if I die, can I go to Heaven and slaughter that flock of birds myself?
He stumbled forward a few steps and collapsed before Jeanne. Her eyes trembled as she looked at him.
"Lau… rent…"
Laurent's breath came ragged. The girl knelt, mist gathering in her eyes as she fought back tears and lifted him into her arms. Her hands were slick and red with his blood.
His words came broken, halting—each breath spilling more blood. The Luobishi divine sword had stripped him of his healing power.
"Go… go with them… Jeanne…"
He coughed twice, spattering blood.
"The Holy Maiden… saved the world…"
At those words, Jeanne understood instantly. Her voice shook.
"Laurent, I was never a Holy Maiden."
She shook her head, clutching him tighter.
"Holy Maiden! Leave that demon! We have to go!"
Some rescuers had rushed forward, but she refused.
"No. Let me stay."
"Holy Maiden! If you stay, the English will seize you—we can't guarantee your safety!"
Jeanne looked up, her voice cutting through their panic.
"Laurent told you to do this, didn't he?"
Then she looked back down at the man in her arms.
"There's no need. At least at the end… I want to stay with him."
"Holy Maiden—are you sure? That demon—"
"He isn't a demon."
"…Understood."
When she looked down again, Laurent was smiling faintly, painfully.
"Why… didn't you go?"
If you left with them, everything you wanted would come true. England and France would find peace. They'd pin all blame for the war on me, the dead king, and the fighting would end. Isn't that what you wished for, Jeanne?
"Right now, I am Jeanne d'Arc."
She felt the warmth fading beside her.
"Laurent, that's not what I wanted. Do you know what kept me going this far?"
"I've seen countless futures, Laurent—each one fragile, branching like a path through life. And no matter which I chose, they all led to the same end. I wanted to change that fate… only to realize I was the one driving it forward. Maybe we were both wrong. Maybe I should've stayed with you in that haystack, living naïvely, selfishly, just enjoying the life and warmth you gave me."
A tear slid from the corner of his eye.
"Sorry… for breaking the cross necklace…"
"The one who should apologize is me. I know everything you did was for me—but Laurent, I felt the same. If I could, I would've traded my death for your life. They told me there was a way to prevent your death—but only if I walked this path. So I did. I knew that if I told you, you'd be angry—you'd never let me choose it."
Her voice trembled with pain.
The archangels had never given her a prophecy—only inevitability.
Among the countless threads of possibility, there had been only one that could let him live. And she had chosen it without hesitation.
Yet in the end, she still failed.
The angels were gone. The prophecy had lost its power.
In his final moments, Laurent suddenly remembered something. His trembling hand reached toward his chest and drew out a small ring.
"Al… almost forgot… cough…"
"I meant to give this to you before… but now, it's not too late, is it?"
Jeanne's pupils widened, staring at the ring in his bloodied hand.
So that's what this was for… Even for someone like me, you'd still—
"It's not too late."
She smiled—her brightest, most radiant smile—as tears spilled down her cheeks and fell onto his face.
"Jeanne… cough… will you… marry…"
Before he could finish, his hand went limp. The diamond ring lay quietly in his palm.
Jeanne's vision blurred. She looked at the ring, forcing a smile through the haze.
She took it gently, and without hesitation, slipped it onto her right ring finger.
"I will, Laurent. I will."
She leaned down and kissed his face softly.
"I will—no matter the past, no matter the present—so long as it's you, I will. At least at the end… let me fulfill the duty of a wife…"
Her smile was as beautiful as ever, though Laurent could no longer see it.
Her tears fell freely now as the world around them went silent.
Jeanne held him close.
"At least, in the end… please… hear my answer…"
Laurent, she thought, I never truly believed in God. Those prayers, those wishes—they were never for war.
All I ever wished for was your happiness. Maybe it was because I prayed for that happiness every day that any so-called miracle happened at all.
What I've truly believed in—from the very beginning to the very end—has always been you.
And it will only ever be you.
---
bonus chaps
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200 stones -> 2 chapters
300 stones -> 3 chapters
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