"Jeanne?" Cyd stopped in his tracks, glancing curiously at the girl sitting on the ground, clutching her flag. Her blonde hair was slightly messy, and her usually determined violet eyes now looked lost. She seemed so fragile, starkly contrasting to the strong saint he knew.
"Cyd, I need to ask you something," Jeanne murmured, her lips pressed together. "I want you to swear you'll answer truthfully—no lies."
Cyd scratched his cheek, raising an eyebrow. "What's with the serious tone? Sure, I've got nothing to hide."
"You… you really don't want the Holy Grail?" Jeanne's eyes locked onto his, intense and pleading. [Please... tell me no.]
"I couldn't care less about that dumb cup." Cyd waved his hand dismissively. "I don't believe in some overpowered magical item that can grant any wish."
The light of Hermes' blessing shimmered around him, a sign he was telling the truth.
"Thank you." Jeanne let out a small sigh of relief. But before she could fully relax, Cyd's next words sent a shock through her.
"That said, I do need the Grail right now," Cyd added with a smile, leaning in closer. "To get back to this world."
"Is that your regret?" Jeanne gripped her flag tighter.
"Regret? Don't talk like I'm already dead." Cyd chuckled, brushing a strand of her messy hair back. "I'm still alive. Just stuck outside of time. For this world, though, it's like I don't exist. Might as well be dead."
Jeanne froze. She had thought Cyd was chasing the Grail to resurrect himself after some tragic end. But it wasn't like that at all. He wasn't trying to come back from death—he was just lost, trying to find his way home after defeating the gods. The Grail wasn't a tool for resurrection; it was a beacon, guiding him back.
So what could she do? This wasn't about a dead man's regret—it was a living person's wish to return. Could she really deny him that?
Cyd hadn't done anything wrong. He had never killed, never fought for selfish reasons. He'd only fought to stop disasters, wielding the blessings of the gods to help others, not for personal gain. [He just wants to go home.] How could she possibly deny such a simple, pure wish?
"Hey, don't look so broken." Cyd gently pinched Jeanne's cheek. "You're usually more confident. If you've got something to say, just say it. Like before, when you weren't holding back."
"I… I don't think…" Jeanne's voice trembled as she grabbed his hand. "You shouldn't… shouldn't come back…"
"You're going to cry if you keep going," Cyd sighed, already understanding the words she hadn't yet spoken.
A cold, sharp voice broke the tension.
"She's the enemy." Atalanta's icy tone filled the air, her killing intent almost suffocating. "If you won't deal with her, I will."
Cyd winced. "Atalanta, maybe we can talk this through—"
"No." Atalanta grabbed Cyd by the collar, yanking him upright. Her eyes blazed with fury as she glared at Jeanne. "Don't you dare try to stand in our way with that half-baked resolve? You don't understand what we're fighting for. Or are you going to use your 'I can't' excuse like you did with Jack? Saint! Jeanne! D'Arc!"
Jeanne flinched but stood her ground. "I have the resolve," she said quietly, her expression sad yet firm. "Because even if I deny your wish… it's not wrong."
"Then fight me!" Atalanta growled, shoving Cyd aside and marching toward Jeanne. She grabbed Jeanne by the collar. "Prove you have the resolve to deny us! I'll give you no mercy—I'll kill you with everything I have!"
"Fine! Let's fight!" Jeanne snapped, though doubt clouded her heart. She wasn't as strong or certain as her words sounded. A small part of her wondered if it would be easier to let Atalanta kill her right here and end this inner turmoil.
"Uh… what about my opinion on all this?" Cyd scratched his face awkwardly. "Atalanta, you're getting a little too worked up. Maybe we could just—"
"Shut up!" Atalanta barked. "I won't let anyone stand in our way anymore! Or do you want us to keep waiting?!"
Cyd fell silent, his face unusually serious. "Sorry," he muttered, bowing his head.
"Let's go, Saint," Atalanta said coldly, pushing Jeanne aside and heading toward the battlefield.
"I won't… I won't lose," Jeanne whispered, chasing after her. She couldn't bear to face Cyd anymore, not after her words had been no different from telling him not to return.
"Hey," Cyd called after her, grabbing the braid of her hair.
"Ow!" Jeanne yelped, tears forming as she rubbed the back of her head. "What are you doing?!"
"Listen," Cyd said, exasperated. "The Holy Grail War? It's just a selfish fight. Whether it's about regret, redemption, or even saving others—it's all driven by personal desire. You shouldn't feel lost because of that." He walked past her, heading after Atalanta. "You've never doubted your beliefs before, and you won't now, Yeah, I'm breaking the rules by wanting the Grail. I'm supposed to be a Ruler, impartial, and all that. But no matter the reason, the conclusion doesn't change—you must deny me, fully and completely."
"Do you… want me to do something so cruel?" Jeanne bit her lip, fighting back tears.
Cyd didn't look back. "Yeah. Because I trust you'll make the right call. Even if it hurts, even if it hurts you too, you'll do what's right. You have to because that's what it means to be responsible for everyone. And also..."
Jeanne blinked, staring at his back.
"I don't want to be denied by someone who looks like a sobbing kitten," Cyd added with a wink. "I might start crying too."
"I-I'm not crying!" Jeanne stammered, hurriedly rubbing her eyes.
"Then prove it." Cyd smiled. "Deny me