"Saint Joan of Arc embodied kindness, humility, integrity, and innocence, which became her steadfast beliefs. That is her entirety," remarked a theologian.
Like a requiem from afar, she turned a deaf ear to the filthy words that drifted into her ears. To say that she wasn't saddened by these words would be a lie, but to claim they caused her pain would be an exaggeration.
Fear, in other words, was merely a concern. When she resolved to fight, she had already set aside shame and regret, and even at this moment, she did not feel them.
Dragged into the square, the crowd gathered around her. She walked straight, instinctively covering her chest, only to find that her cross had been stolen at some point.
The pillar of her soul had left her, and sadness slowly seeped into her heart. As she mourned, an Englishman rushed over, devoutly handing her a crudely made wooden cross.
"Thank you," she whispered gratefully, having to look down at him because the man was kneeling before her, tears streaming down his face. Though some would denigrate her, many more wept for her.
If those filthy words were a foreign song from a distant land, then the sadness might be a mother's lullaby.
Her hands were tightly bound, her back pressed firmly against the wooden frame. In such bindings, no one would believe she could escape. The tightness of the restraints gave the impression that it was futile even to attempt to loosen them.
Brought to such a far place, she thought, escape was impossible.
When the last charge against her was read during the ceremony, the torch ignited the pyre beneath her.
The flames slowly began to lick at her feet. To those gathered around her, burning someone's body with fire was the most terrifying method of execution they could imagine. Skin scorched by the flames, flesh and bone consumed by fire. The only thing she could do was repeatedly invoke the names of God and the Virgin.
"Your prayers are all lies."
She had been accused of this many times and insulted in this manner just as often. She was powerless to resolve this issue. Prayers had no fixed right or wrong and must remain constant no matter who was praying.
She wanted to tell them they were wrong, but she could no longer speak. Instead, she saw her past life: her beloved hometown, her ordinary family, and a fool who abandoned them. But was she really a fool? Yes, perhaps she once was.
After all, when she made her choice, she foresaw this end. No one understood the outcome better than she did.
If she had turned her gaze away then, she would surely have met a different end now.
If she had ignored those voices, if she had turned her back on the soldiers' dying laments, perhaps she would have lived an ordinary woman's happy life. She might have married and lived a joyful life as a wife and mother. (Which means many otakus wouldn't have a waifu—what are you looking at? Is it strange to be in love with a fictional character?)
Such a future could have been hers without any change.
However, she cast aside this happiness and ran towards a completely different end. She raised her sword, donned her armor, and bore the flag representing national glory, leading the charge in battle.
You must have known it would end this way, didn't you?
She had known and was prepared for it. Her efforts meant that one day she would face this end. Though many cursed her as a fool and mocked her stupidity.
But this could save more lives! The path I chose is the right one!
Her past and future visions faded with the arrival of the cruel reality. The surrounding flames consumed her, and she turned to ashes in prayer.
This was her final prayer, her sacrifice. Even if everyone in the world blamed and betrayed her, in her last moment before death, she was certain that she had not betrayed herself.
No regrets, nor any expectations for the future. In the end, she would achieve peace.
Despite being treated so cruelly, as her life drew to a close and the flames were extinguished, her heart still resonated with her selfless prayers and unwavering resolve.
"Lord, I entrust myself to you..."
Her final consciousness faded away, and at the last moment of her life, she finally escaped her suffering. Her dreamless sleep ended, leaving only reality behind. But everything was far from over. In the place where the maiden's dreams turned to foam, the legend of Saint Joan of Arc began to spread.
— Search initiated
— Search complete
— One match found
— Physical compatibility confirmed
— Spiritual compatibility confirmed
— Lineage compatibility confirmed
— Personality compatibility confirmed
— Mana compatibility confirmed
— Commencing temporary seal of original personality and insertion of Heroic Spirit's spiritual core (install)
— Consent obtained from the original personality
— Commencing backup of original personality to separate domain
— Spiritual core insertion (install) complete. Commencing compatibility adjustments between spiritual core and physical body.
— Commencing grant of class-specific abilities (skills)
— Commencing insertion of necessary information up to the present era for all Heroic Spirits
— Backup to separate domain complete
— Class-specific abilities (skills) granted. Skill "Saint" was selected to create a Holy Shroud. (The ability of a Saint, when summoned as a Servant, allows choosing one of the following: "Increase effectiveness of sacred mysteries," "Automatic HP recovery," "Leadership rank up by one," or "Create Holy Shroud."
— Insertion of necessary information complete
— Compatibility adjustments complete
— Full procedure complete
— Servant class Ruler. Materialization complete
She opened her eyes. The summoning method was truly extraordinary. Such a fragile connection to the present world was unprecedented. Could the reason lie in the abnormality of this Holy Grail War—this conflict known as the Holy Grail War?
Her materialization was finally complete, and all indicators were normal. However, the current body she inhabited was that of an authentic French girl. More precisely, she possessed most of this French girl's memories. Two personalities resided within one body, more aptly described as a unification of two personalities rather than the so-called multiple personalities. Perhaps due to the girl's strong sensitivity and devout faith, she acknowledged and fully accepted the maiden who had taken residence within her.
"I'll be borrowing your body for a while, Leticia."
The girl called out the holder's name.
She thought about what she should do first and decided to greet her friend.
The girl got out of bed and shook the friend sleeping in the adjoining bed. The friend stirred for a bit, then, hearing the girl's whisper, finally rubbed her eyes and half-awoke.
"Hmm, what?"
Hearing the sleepy voice, the girl felt guilty for waking her but spoke clearly:
"Starting today, I will be leaving here for a while."
Perhaps not yet understanding the seriousness of these words, the friend said goodbye and fell back into her slumber—only to suddenly throw off her blanket and shout a few seconds later:
"What did you just say?"
"I'm sorry for being so abrupt, but I don't have much time."
"No, no, what do you mean by 'don't have much time'? I don't get it! That's way too sudden! Why did you say 'goodnight, see you tomorrow' only to say something like this right away?"
Facing her bewildered friend, the girl sincerely explained, "This is a long journey," "This journey is necessary," and "Don't worry." The friend listened, stunned for a moment, and soon nodded as if she understood.
"Got it. If you have to go, then there's no helping it."
"Okay. I'll explain it to the teacher."
"Alright, then. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Jeanne did not use any magical suggestion. However, as a Ruler, she possessed the power to make others believe her words.
She informed the teacher and classmates that she was embarking on a journey, making them understand that it was a necessary trip. Although Jeanne felt a bit forceful, there was no other way. She sighed and cast aside her distracting thoughts.
Fortunately, the original owner of this body was currently staying in a student dormitory, away from her parents. This trip, which would last no more than about a month, should go unnoticed by them.
After packing the necessary clothes, her passport, and textbooks into her bag, Jeanne left the student dormitory. The original owner of this body—Leticia—was still a student. A girl from the countryside, she had never had the opportunity to learn to read and write before. Thus, acquiring modern language knowledge so easily through the Holy Grail was quite a strange feeling.
"Even so, there should be a limit to abnormality."
She originally shouldn't have needed to borrow someone else's body but should have been summoned in the usual way, materializing in the city battlefield.
However, this time, she was summoned by attaching to another's body, and the location was her homeland—France, which still bore traces of its past.
Originally, the Ruler was to be summoned as the eighth Servant. But this time, she became the fifteenth. This was likely the largest scale in the history of the Holy Grail Wars.
Was this accident caused by that reason? Or was there some other cause? Regardless, since she was summoned as a Ruler, she had to undertake the task of overcoming all difficulties. Jeanne resolved herself to this.
The girl's true name was Jeanne d'Arc—Joan of Arc. As a Servant, her class was "Ruler," without a Master, and she was the absolute overseer of the Holy Grail War.
And so, Ruler took the night train to the airport and then flew to Bucharest, Romania. It would have been convenient if she could materialize spiritually, but it seemed that wasn't possible. Having no other choice, she bought a ticket with her own money (to be exact, using Leticia's money—you are something, Saint). She then thought about making a request to the Holy Church and the Mage's Association, which added to her gloom.
On the plane, she organized the knowledge she had been given. She learned that the battlefield was the small town of Trifas in Romania. The landowner, Yggdmillennia, was hosting this Holy Grail War. Opposing them were the magus from the Clock Tower who had declared independence. The current issue was that this was not a seven-person competition but an unprecedented battle where seven fought against seven.
It wasn't surprising if the aftermath of one-on-one battles left surrounding buildings devastated. If it escalated into a full-scale conflict between two factions of seven-on-seven, the destruction would be unimaginable.
Was she summoned as a Ruler because of this reason? Summoned by the Great Holy Grail, which feared the sheer scale and potential for complete ruin of the war? She didn't know, and now was not the time to think about it.
First, she would head to Bucharest and talk later.
Counting transfers and waiting times, it took more than a day and a half to arrive at Henri Coandă International Airport in Bucharest, the capital of Romania.
It was just past noon, and the sky was unfortunately overcast. The thick, dark gray clouds made the sky look like it was about to cry, which was quite fitting. Although she had been given knowledge, the airport, built with the latest technology, still looked very new to Jeanne.
Maybe because she had been sitting for so long, her lower back felt a bit heavy. During this long journey through the sky, she spent half the time thinking about the Holy Grail War and the other half praying for a safe trip. Thanks to the knowledge given to her as a Servant, she knew what an airplane was. However, having knowledge and experiencing it were two different things. Honestly, how could such a chunk of metal fly? Though she understood it as knowledge, she still didn't want to grasp it.
She was glad it didn't fall, she thought.
Jeanne, holding her handbag with an innocent look, wandered among the crowd. She would be an ideal target for pickpockets. However, for some reason, not a single thief dared to approach her. They weren't so shameless as to dirty the clear water with their filthy feet.
Trifas was northeast of here. She needed to take some form of transportation. Should she take a bus or hitchhike?
The moment she stepped out of the airport, countless gazes pierced through Ruler.
However, within her detection range of ten kilometers, there was no sign of any Servants.
Even though Ruler had the powerful detection ability that could nullify even Assassin's "Presence Concealment," she still felt the gazes. This meant—
"Clairvoyance magecraft and familiars, huh."
Magecraft for observing distant objects generally falls into two categories:
One is clairvoyance, which observes distant places through a crystal ball or mirror. With some medium, one could monitor the outside even from the safety of a workshop. Therefore, most magus mastered this magecraft.
The other is familiars, a magecraft that processes small animals or parts of the body to create pseudo-life forms. They could share the five senses with their master through a causal link. This was also basic magecraft for most magi.
Ruler looked around at the gray sky and saw countless pigeons watching her. Those pigeons were likely familiars, but there was no sign of rationality in their eyes. Usually, magus would give hair or blood to the creatures becoming familiars, so even if they couldn't speak, they should have some hint of rationality.
But their eyes were purely those of pigeons. They were just observing her, no doubt about it. Was someone manipulating them through suggestion? That was quite a roundabout method.
Ruler glared fiercely in the direction of the distant and at the pigeons. She didn't infuse her gaze with magical energy, but the other side probably sensed the intent conveyed in her eyes.
The oppressive feeling from the distant disappeared, and the pigeons flew away all at once.
After confirming this, Ruler let out a breath.
Ruler was not there to participate in the Holy Grail War. Even so, she stood in a position where she had to pass judgment on Masters and Servants who violated the rules. For this, she inevitably needed to have corresponding combat abilities.
There are very few people who have experienced the Holy Grail War two or three times. Even if there are, surely none have experienced a Holy Grail War with the appearance of a Ruler. Just now, they were probably trying to gauge the power of this Ruler.
"This makes it harder and harder to make a judgment..."
For Ruler, the only major advantage of this Holy Grail War is that the fourteen Servants are divided into two factions of seven each. In other words, it can prevent the chaos of fourteen people acting on their own.
Just imagining the scene of fourteen Servants running amok as they please is like a nightmare. At worst, the entire Trifas could be destroyed.
"Anyway, I need to get to Trifas first..."
She muttered to herself while looking for a bus to Trifas. But it seemed that there was no direct bus to Trifas. The only way was to first go to the relay point in Sighișoara and then transfer to Trifas.
However, the next bus to Sighișoara wouldn't come until tomorrow. Helpless, Ruler had to look around to see if any vehicles were heading directly to Trifas and if she could hitch a ride.
In the end, a skinny old man with a peaked cap and glasses agreed to take her.
"I'm indeed planning to go to Trifas next."
"Well then—"
"But, unlike Sighișoara, Trifas is not a tourist spot. There's nothing there except for a huge castle, which is also private property and off-limits. If you want to learn about history, isn't Sighișoara, with the birthplace of Vlad III, much better..."
"No, it's because I have relatives waiting for me in Trifas. Could you please help me?"
"Oh, I see, then it's no problem. But the passenger seat is filled with fragile items. So, could you ride in the cargo bed?"
"If you're willing to take me, that's no problem. Thank you very much."
"Let's pray it doesn't rain."
After loading her into the cargo bed, the old man said with a smile.
"Alright, got it. I will pray."
Ruler nodded earnestly and replied. Praying was all she could do to avoid the rain.
With a clattering sound like crushing a tin can, the truck moved steadily along the road. As she felt the vibrations, Ruler gazed at the passing scenery of Bucharest.
Thud, the truck shook. At the same time, the muffler started emitting black smoke.
"As expected, it's a bit different from riding a horse."
Compared to the biological vibrations of a horse and the sporadic vibrations produced by a machine, even though both were modes of transportation, there was still a difference. Probably because the speed and endurance had improved, it lost the corresponding comfort. She remembered the white horse that once galloped with her on the battlefield. It was an excellent steed, but it went missing in the Battle of Compiègne and was likely killed or taken by someone else.
The speed increased, and several wooden boxes in the cargo bed shook with a clattering sound. Surprisingly, the truck's speed was almost the same as a horse, but that was simply because the truck she was on was below average in performance; in terms of a horse, it was like an old steed.
The biggest difference between a truck and a horse was that a truck wouldn't tire out while moving. The truck kept moving at a leisurely pace towards Trifas.
"Grandpa, how long will it take to get to Trifas at this speed?"
Ruler asked the old man in the driver's seat. The old man, humming a tune, replied:
"Well—at this speed, about twelve hours, I guess?"
"Will it take that long?"
"Well, we have to take breaks along the way, so there's no helping it."
"I see, that can't be helped then."
Though Ruler felt a bit disheartened, she suddenly had an idea and took out a textbook from her bag.
"It's such a good era where even a farmer's daughter like me can receive an education."
However, although the Holy Grail had granted her the necessary knowledge to live in the present world, it didn't provide the contents of the textbooks. The knowledge of the girl she had possessed was the limit of her knowledge.
"I can't understand any of this."
With a sense of impending struggle, Ruler began to immerse herself in the mathematics textbook.
P.S.: The definition of "Leticia's knowledge" is quite strange. If it included everything she learned, it would be impossible for her to completely not understand the textbook. So, the answer is very clear: Jeanne didn't receive any knowledge from textbooks, thus making her—illiterate.