A few weeks later...
The war between England and France claimed the lives of many, including completely innocent people.
Thousands of dead children and tens of thousands of orphans left parentless under the oppression of war.
The English intended to capture Orleans to get closer to occupying all of France.
By order of the Dauphin, some of his troops were placed under the command of a woman who called herself a "Messenger of God".
Many people did not believe that any woman was capable of being a strategist, let alone a combatant...
Many people were outraged by this fact and wanted to start protests, but they were not allowed to do so because wartime did not allow them to deal with the problems of the people.
And many had to accept it - the commander-in-chief of one of the armies was a Woman.
A woman who nicknamed herself Jeanne D'arc.
Right now, Rayan and Jeanne were sitting at a round table along with several soldiers in armor.
Their army numbered 400, which was quite a large number for those times.
Having set up a small camp, many of the soldiers working in this corps had thought the appointment of a new commander was something foolish and unbelievable.
However, after one of the raids to clear a village on the way to Orleans, Jeanne pro-demonstrated her own spirit and charisma, which brought hope of victory into the hearts of the soldiers.
She also demonstrated strategic thinking and the ability to react calmly to a situation on par with the men.
After this, the soldiers decided to finally believe in their own commander, because the situation in France had driven them to extreme despair...
"Orleans is still a little ways away... The scouts say that on the way there will be a lot of units of English soldiers. How many, unfortunately, is not stated here. It's estimated that if we can lay siege to the English camps, we can destroy most of them. However, such a task is akin only to geniuses..." - concluded the intelligence captain, sighing slightly as he finished reading the letter from the scouts.
Jeanne nodded at his words and seriously began to ponder the captain's words.
Rayan interrupted Jeanne's thoughts. "I need ten men."
Jeanne was slightly surprised. "Why do you need 10 men? Don't tell me..." - She wanted to continue, but she was interrupted by Rayan.
"Yes, I want to personally destroy the English camps." - Said Rayan seriously. In this era, a completely minuscule number of people possessed the ability to use magic, causing him to have to carefully hide his own power from other people.
Usually, such people worshipped Gods or found ancient scrolls that had a magical signature.
Thankfully, because of people incredible faith in God, many people didn't consider him a heretic, but rather another 'Messenger of God'.
"B-but how will you do that? I mean, it's impossible!" - Jeanne exclaimed slightly. To her, Rayan was a very strong man, but she didn't believe that he was capable of dealing with a hundred men with only 10 men at his command.
She couldn't afford to lose him...
The captains sitting at the round table also stared at Rayane in bewilderment and confusion.
How could such a little kid handle a hundred grown up and heavily armed men?
Rayan had expected a similar reaction. "Soldiers, get out of here please." - He demanded, looking pointedly at the soldiers in the tent.
The soldiers nodded under his gaze and immediately left the tent.
Jeanne did not understand why he did so, however, she allowed him to continue.
Suddenly, Rayan raised his finger and a fetil of fire formed on its surface. "This is one of my secrets." - he said.
Jeanne was speechless for a moment. Is it really this...?
"Yes, what you see now is true sorcery." - Pausing, he continued. "Our world is much bigger than we might think" looking at the dumbfounded expression on Jeanne's face, Rayan sighed.
Jeanne was experiencing a multitude of feelings. From surprise to sadness.
Why didn't she know this from the beginning? Did he not trust her?
Why wouldn't he want to teach witchcraft to everyone? Wouldn't that save a lot of people?
"If Rayan really has sorcery, then he is capable of saving many." - Jeanne thought with genuine joy.
"But why didn't you tell me until now?" - Jeanne asked with curiosity and a hint of sadness.
"Because I didn't see the need." - he said. "Sorcery can be used by a few. None of you have a predisposition for sorcery. Or you have too insignificant an amount of prana needed to embody sorcery." - Rayan lied slightly.
One could not talk too much about such a subject as "Witchcraft", for it was considered almost taboo among society.
Witchcraft was usually practiced by heretics and blasphemers. Only a few were entitled to call themselves those who have magic to bring only "Good" and "Hope" to the world.
Jeanne took a more meaningful look at this, nodding her head. "I understand you. But what kind of sorcery are you using exactly?" - She asked curiously.
Rayan stretched out his fingers and strengthened them with sorcery using Strengthening.
He jammed two of his fingers and slammed them into the wooden floor.
The floor bent under the force of Rayan's fingers.
Jeanne, watching this, couldn't help but marvel. All her life she had read tales of magic, and something like witchcraft was a completely different sensation...
"What I did was amplify my fingers with prana. Prana in this case becomes an additional shield, or it strengthens the muscles themselves, making them stronger and less wearable." - explained Rayan.
"Just don't tell anyone, or you'll be recognized as a Heretic." - Rayan said seriously, looking into Jeanne's eyes.
Jeanne only nodded seriously at his words. "But how capable are you of reinforcing yourself?" - To her question, Rayan immediately answered. "Completely. I am capable of enhancing every part of my body, or indeed, my entire body. The only question is how much prana I need to do it."
Rayan had learned how to control prana from the small tutorials he received for completing his assignments.
Because of his imagination and good selection, he was able to maximize the effectiveness of the Strengthening without causing side effects.
"Still, medical knowledge is a huge trump card." - he thought, remembering how easy magic came to him.
Perhaps it was because of his bloodline, perhaps it was because of his powers of representation, perhaps it was because of the era in which he was born.
He didn't know, and he wasn't going to know.
"Alright, I'll let you go, but please..." - With a pleading look around him, she continued. "Be careful. I can't take it if you die." - Her voice trembled slightly.
Rayan was touched by her feelings. "Of course, I will be extremely careful, and if anything happens, I will immediately begin retreating." - Stroking her head, he said.
A few hours later...
Rayan gathered his troop and they mounted their horses.
As they neared the first English camp, he gestured for his men to duck down and be as inconspicuous as possible.
He looked around the camp and sighed.
Slowly pulling the "Burning Hope" from its sheath, he looked at it again, sensing a strange energy emanating from it.
"What is it...?" - He had a hard time guessing what that energy was. Never before in any wikipedia about Fate had it been written about this sword. To him, it was completely mysterious.
Shaking his head, he gestured for the archers to fire.
The archers' job was to track the sentries and then kill them in order to minimize the possibility of retreat.
There were 5 archers in their squad, all of them in a single movement fired arrows accurately and efficiently.
The arrows hit the heads of the English soldiers and the rest of the camp did not notice the killing of their sentry.
"There are only 49 men in the camp. Many of them are resting and the opportunity to kill them all is much higher." - he thought coldly.
"Let's go slowly and vigilantly. Archers, clear a path for us." - he muttered, amplifying his voice with witchcraft.
The archers nodded gravely and drew the bowstring on their bows, ready to fire their weapons at any moment.
In a few minutes the camp was already more than half cut off
Feeling that a direct attack could be launched, Rayan immediately stepped out and with lightning speed chopped off the heads of the soldiers standing by the tent.
Brutal, cold-blooded, immediate - that was how Rayan killed those soldiers.
Warm blood ran down the ground, testifying to the world the cruelty of human...
After a few more minutes, together with his group of swordsmen, Rayan cleared this camp.
"There are a few more to come..." - he thought indifferently.
His eyes shone coldly, reflecting complete indifference and detachment towards the very concept of 'Life'...