The world of Type-Moon starts with saving Altria!

But at this moment Ian had a little idea.

"Jeanna...why don't you try something else this time?"

"Something else?"

"Well, it should be quite interesting."

"Oh... okay."

Joan of Arc always trusted her brother, even when she was blindfolded.

But she soon felt that something was a little wrong with what came in.

It's a little cool and a little smooth.

This touch... is so familiar.

Wait!

"Brother... could it be that holy flag?"

"Hey, have you been discovered?"

"No, get it out quickly!"

Joan of Arc's body began to struggle, and the holy flag that was only inserted a little bit also swayed from side to side.

Having become a "flag base", she indeed felt extremely ashamed at this moment.

A few minutes later.

Joan of Arc crossed her arms across her chest, looking very angry.

Ian was beside her, laughing and coaxing her.

"Jeanna, I'm sorry, it's my brother's fault, don't be angry with me."

"Humph!" Jeanne pouted, "Brother, you're going too far!"

"How could you stuff something like that in there?"

"because--"

Ian looked at the white holy flag placed on the bed beside him - its handle was slightly wet.

"I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately, Jeana... so I wanted to try these new methods to see if they could help you relax a little."

“But the result seems to be worse.”

"Eh?!"

【Joan of Arc knows you are not lying. 】

[Now that the pressure is reversed, you are still thinking about how to take care of her. 】

She felt guilty for being angry.

"It's not getting any worse..."

Jeanne snuggled up to her brother and held his arm.

"only--"

"Compared to the holy flag... I like my brother's stick better."

"So there's no need to try anything else. As long as... my brother is willing to do it with me, that's all."

"I like it best... that way."

After saying this, Joan of Arc smiled sweetly, without any trace of the anger she had just shown.

Ian, on the other hand, felt a little sad.

I originally came here to comfort my sister with practical actions, but now it has become the case that she has to heal me?

No.

This cannot go on.

Ian took a deep breath and immediately changed the subject.

"Speaking of -"

"Jeanna, I didn't expect you to be so brave. Holding the holy flag, you dare to rush to the front?"

"You... aren't afraid of getting hurt?"

"Of course I'm afraid..." Joan of Arc's voice became a little softer.

"If I'm at the front, there will be a lot of weapons and magic that will hurt me... It's scary."

"But--"

Joan of Arc looked at the holy flag on the bed, her eyes showing a bit more determination.

"No matter how scared I am, I must be at the front."

"After all, everyone hopes that I can lead them onto a path of revival blessed by the Lord."

“I have to try my best to do this kind of thing.”

"I cannot retreat... and I will never be allowed to retreat. I will bring the hope given to me by the 'Angel' to everyone in France!"

"but--"

The naked Jeanne tilted her head slightly.

"It seems that I have indeed been blessed by the 'Angel'... I haven't been injured so far!"

"..."

Ian smiled.

"Yeah, I think so too."

[You didn't try any other weird methods.]

[You use the stick to satisfy your sister every day. Jeanne]

[The day of the raid on Orleans is getting closer. 】

[But you vaguely feel that something is wrong. ]

What's wrong?

Ian pondered the question.

correct.

was the reaction of the English army.

Nearly half a month has passed since we set out from Chinon.

During this period of time, the French troops had captured several cities in succession, as if they were in an empty land.

On the other hand, England not only failed to organize any effective counterattack.

Instead, they retreated all the way along the Loire River to the vicinity of Orleans.

Although there may be a difference in morale, it seems a bit too fast no matter how you think about it.

Things don't seem to be going so smoothly.

【You told Jeanne about your concerns. 】

[As your lover and sister, she naturally wouldn't doubt what you said.]

【However, her opinion seems to differ from yours. 】

"Brother...I know what you mean."

Jeanne looked at her brother in front of her with sincere eyes.

"But--"

"We've come all the way here... we can't just turn back, right?"

"In this case, wouldn't the Prince's trust in us be wasted in the moment of retreat?"

Looking at his sister's determined eyes, Ian knew that she would not change her strategy of pursuing across the river.

but--

He also understood that this was indeed something that could not be changed.

After all, if we stop moving forward at this moment.

Not only will the morale that has been built up with great difficulty suffer a severe blow, but the trust accumulated during this period of time will also disappear.

"Well... let's advance cautiously then."

"Don't worry, brother, I will."

[Of course, you haven’t put aside your concerns.]

[You know you have to find out the situation in Orleans in advance - you don't want your sister to take any risks.]

[Fortunately, this city is not far from where you are stationed. ]

[You decide to transform into a dragon at night and check the situation on the spot.]

late at night.

In a forest far away from the military garrison, Ian once again took off the pendant from his neck and held it tightly.

A black mist surrounded the young man.

The next moment, the dragon spread its wings and soared into the sky.

"Pierre...is it for your sister again?" asked the Dragon Face.

"Yes!" Ian answered without hesitation.

"Fafnir, we have to go to Orleans first. That's where Jeanne will lead the army to provide support."

"We have to find out what's going on over there first!"

"..."

The black dragon's eyes flashed red.

"understood."

"but--"

"I don't know the way. If you fly to the wrong place later, remember to remind me."

"Yes, I will."

A very clear line was drawn in the night sky.

The soaring dragon arrived near Orleans at an unimaginable speed.

"Fafnir, can you see what's going on down there?"

"Yes." The dragon lowered its head slightly.

"but--"

Fafnir hesitated.

"There is no one in this city...

Hearing this, Ian was stunned.

"nobody?"

"Yes." Fafnir responded.

"In the city of Orleans—there is not a soul."

"What?" Ian's head was suddenly shaken by this shocking fact.

But he quickly reacted.

Maybe there was a massacre in the whole city - that's why there are no survivors.

"What about the body? There should be a body, right?"