In order to become a Heroic Spirit, I had no choice but to cause trouble in history.

Suddenly, the group spotted a squad of soldiers ahead of them on the road.

“Those aren’t zombies, they’re real soldiers.” Joan of Arc observed for a moment. “They’re fighting wyverns, let’s go help them!”

Mary smiled and nodded, and Mozart and Matthew had no objections.

Several men rushed into the battlefield, startling the soldiers.

"Who are these people?" a leading soldier asked.

"Hey...you're kidding, right? That person is...the Dragon Witch?" Another soldier gripped his sword, incredulous.

"...Kill her, to avenge my comrades and my homeland!"

"Kill her!"

For some reason, the French soldiers who recognized Joan of Arc suddenly became agitated and instead raised their swords against Joan of Arc, who was helping them fight the wyverns.

"..."

Joan of Arc silently parried the attacks from the French soldiers.

“Miss Jeanne d’Arc—” Mash was somewhat worried about Jeanne d’Arc’s condition.

"Oh my, it seems we've found something quite interesting." A calm and elegant voice came over.

A wyvern, larger than a typical bipedal wyvern, landed on the ground.

Two figures, riding on the back of a dragon, watched with mocking eyes as several people fought simultaneously with the French soldiers' wyverns.

“That’s…Vlad III and Sanson, mentioned in the intelligence!” Mashu quickly analyzed, looking at the figures.

Vlad III and Sanson jumped off the dragon's back: "Our true names have indeed been exposed. It was Martha who told you, wasn't it?"

Vlad III remained relaxed despite his true name being revealed, brandishing his spear and looking at the four men with a bloodthirsty and dangerous gaze.

“Yes, my name is Vlad III, the Vampire Grand Duke, and my purpose here is, of course—to kill you.” Vlad III narrowed his eyes. “Unlike last time, little girl with the shield, I won’t hold back…”

Blood enveloped Vlad III's entire body, his vampire eyes flashed crimson, and the air was thick with the stench of blood.

Unlike Camilla and Simonetta, who were created as vampires, Vlad III's identity as a vampire was—

Dracula.

Therefore, in terms of vampire abilities, Vlad III is far superior to the other two.

"Ugh—" The spear struck Mash's shield, and the shockwave from the immense force made Mash's hands go numb.

Joan of Arc remained silent, dodging the French attacks and killing the wyvern.

"...Why didn't she fight back?" a French soldier asked his comrade in confusion.

"And why did she go and kill those wyverns?"

"Who knows? Let them both die. They're both bastards anyway, it'd be best if they both died!"

Sanson's mocking voice rang out. He was clearly in a berserk state, having been put into a state of extreme mental instability: "Ah, Joan of Arc, do you see this? This is the France you've been protecting."

Joan of Arc ignored him and simply thrust her flag at him.

"Enraged? Heh." Sanson parried the attack with his weapon. "What a pathetic saintess. How about trying the guillotine?"

"My death is a tribute to France. Therefore, I absolutely cannot lose here!" Joan of Arc's expression was serious, and her strength seemed to have increased slightly.

"Tch, who cares who you give your life to?" Sanson grinned, no longer looking at Joan of Arc, but turning to look at the woman, the woman he had been longing for day and night.

“Oh, Marie, Marie Antoinette!” He looked at Marie with a fanatical expression and wide eyes.

"How wonderful this is!" he exclaimed, standing there, completely captivated. "This is truly, so exciting!"

"I have never forgotten you! My Queen, my revered consort! Your breathtakingly beautiful neck, as white as snow, is something I can never forget, even in death!"

Mary didn't say anything, she just looked at Sanson.

What kind of look was that?

Compassion, lamentation.

“Charles Henry Sanson,” Mary called out the name.

"Yes, it is me, Sanson, who will kill you again after death. Ah, how wonderful! To be able to kill you again, this is simply the greatest fortune I have as a Heroic Spirit!"

Mozart waved his baton, his eyes filled with obvious disgust as he looked at Sanson.

------------

Chapter 257 Qingji’s straight ball

“Tarask is the child of the sea monster Leviathan, so he can only unleash his full fighting power in places with water…” Martha stroked Tarask’s neck, as if petting a cat.

Tarask seemed to have completely adapted to the situation, squinting as he enjoyed the caresses from the boss.

Although rational beasts are irritable, they do have one advantage: they will almost always obey the orders of the one who defeats them. The law of the jungle is ingrained in their very being.

...Even in the end, it was cruelly killed by the villagers and believers with pitchforks and sharp blades.

"I do know a water-related servant... but he's not here now, and it's unlikely he'll be here either," Lawrence thought for a moment.

“So, since we can’t create a favorable environment, let’s think of other solutions,” Fujimaru Ritsuka pondered. “Miss Martha, could you tell us about Tarasque’s abilities first?”

“If it were Tarasque that I met back then…” Martha’s tone was tinged with nostalgia and lament.

It is no less large than Fafnir, possesses the ability to manipulate water to destroy ships, and can spew forth raging flames.

If it weren't for Martha's "natural body" and the holy water bestowed by the gods, defeating such a monster would be utter nonsense.

After a long standoff with the monster, Martha defeated Tarask and used a noose to lasso Tarask's head, taking him to a nearby city.

Tarask had submitted to Saint Marda, but the townspeople were terrified of such a horrible and hideous monster. Eventually, the town lord sent Marda away, who was Tarask's master, while the townspeople launched a frenzied attack on Tarask, who had been ordered by Marda not to harm anyone.

Tarask obeyed his boss's orders, and when Martha returned to town, all she found was Tarask's body, which had been tortured to death.

But the saint cannot blame the people, because God loves the people, and she is God's saint.

Therefore, she could only blame herself for not keeping a close watch on Tarask and felt a constant sense of guilt towards him.

The description of Tarask's peak fighting prowess left everyone deep in thought.

The holy water and the cross given by God were the most crucial items for Martha to defeat Tarasque.

The current Tarasque is clearly a byproduct of a weakened Heroic Spirit.

"Don't worry, I can fully restore Tarask's strength, so Miss Lawrence only needs to figure out how to imbue Tarask with powerful magic!" Martha smiled gently, truly a qualified saintess.

"...Well then, let's leave it at that for now. My magic is mostly for people, so applying a buff to a dragon is definitely an unprecedented challenge."

"Okay, Tarask will stay here to assist you. I'm going out for a walk to clear my head."

"Please go ahead."

Martha stepped out of the castle and took a breath of fresh air.

The people of Thiers had already evacuated, so the overall structure was not severely damaged. Fujimaru Ritsuka and his group temporarily used Thiers' castle as their camp to settle down.

Then, Martha's pupils suddenly dilated.

Kiyohime was trying to hug Fujimaru Ritsuka with a lovey-dovey expression, while Fujimaru Ritsuka desperately tried to push Kiyohime away.

Martha: ? ? ?

"What are you doing! Miss Kiyohime, stop right now!" Martha quickly went up and separated the two of them.

Fujimaru Ritsuka lay on the side, panting heavily.

Kiyohime stomped her foot: "What are you doing, you cross-shaped woman! I almost kissed my Master!"

"Why did you kiss me?!" Fujimaru Ritsuka screamed in despair.

She had just been sitting outside the castle, thinking about future battle strategies, when Kiyohime ran over and sat down next to her.

At first, nothing seemed amiss. He was simply chatting with Kiyohime about her life, since Kiyohime is a well-known yokai in Japan. Kiyohime even gave Ritsuka a demonstration of fire-breathing.

Then Kiyohime started acting strangely, first muttering something under her breath: "That's it, it's definitely Lady Anchin's aura."

"It's a ghost! How could I possibly be the monk Anchin? I'm a woman!" Fujimaru Ritsuka's face turned pale as she looked at Kiyohime with lingering fear.

"Mmm..." Kiyohime stood there, her face flushed. "It's alright, Master will surely come to understand my love again..."

Then he gave up and went to patrol.

Martha, Ritsuka: I'm so tired.

"Master, Master, she, you, I, this..." Martha stammered, flustered.

Fujimaru Ritsuka took a deep breath: "I will never be alone with Kiyohime again. It's too scary. I'd better go inside and keep Miss Lawrence company."

"Ah, um..." Martha didn't know how to comfort her young Master, so she could only nod. "Well then, I'll go on patrol too..."

After saying that, he ran out.

Fujimaru Ritsuka sighed and walked through the castle gates.

What kind of situation is this...?

Lawrence is concocting his own magic potion.

Her magic potions require no materials; they are constructed directly from the various types of magic within herself, making them a unique form of magic belonging only to Lawrence.

Lawrence's total amount of magic was ridiculously large, which could easily support such an experiment.

However, we still need to control the use of magical power for now.

Because the final battle may be just around the corner.

"Ritsuka." Lawrence greeted Fujimaru Ritsuka with a smile as she walked in.

Tarask was asleep on one side. He looked ugly and was indeed ugly, but for some reason, both of them thought Tarask was ugly-cute.

"Miss Lawrence, how is it going?" Fujimaru Ritsuka looked a little tired.

No, it's because Kiyohime is too scary, that's why I was scared.

"I have at least a basic idea. How about we tentatively name it 'Dragon Potion'?" Lawrence's progress was going quite smoothly, and he even had the leisure to joke around.

"That's good......"

......