In Type-Moon, people create a magic family lineage

You remain the same as always.

At eighteen, you hear that King Henry V of England and King Charles VI of France have both died, and their successors are waging an increasingly fierce war for the throne.

【…】

[Twenty years old]

France has retreated again and again, with most of its central territory now occupied.

That year, you heard from outsiders that a young girl from the countryside of Orleans claimed to have met the Archangels Michael, Margaret, and Catherine, and received divine revelation that foretold the impending defeat of the English army—and her prophecy was soon proven true.

[In this year, as you know, the protagonist of the Hundred Years' War, the young woman of Orléans—Joan of Arc, or perhaps she should be called 'Jeanne Dalque'—was about to step onto the stage of history.]

Continue reading and writing books.

[Twenty-four years old]

In May of that year, carrier pigeons brought news once again: the Orléans fortress, the last barrier and passage from central France to the south, was under siege by English forces.

[Also in September of that year]

[Autumn]

Two strangers have arrived in your hometown.

Chapter Fifty-Two: The Hermit in the Countryside, Miracles Manifest, Humanity Becomes Divine (Major Revision)

Autumn is bleak and chilly. Large swaths of leaves in the forest have turned yellow and withered, transforming into countless dead leaf butterflies fluttering in the sky.

The rustling sound came through the woods.

The peaceful and tranquil village came into view in an instant.

"What an incredible place."

The figure walking ahead of the woods paused slightly. Blue-purple eyes pierced through the last dense foliage, as if passing through an invisible barrier. The turmoil and war of the outside world seemed to recede into the distance. A gentle breeze caressed the fine golden hair, and the crisscrossing fields that came into view instantly calmed the heart from the outside in.

This is an incredible place.

This is what the person was thinking.

"It's truly incredible that there's no trace of magic or any magical barrier."

The other person standing behind him was two body lengths away, dressed in silver-white armor, looking like a bodyguard. He was tall and slender with thick, jet-black hair, and his pale face also wore a slightly surprised expression.

"Right?" The person in front turned their head slightly, revealing a bright and beautiful smile: "The revelation that the Lord has given me can never be wrong—"

"If we can get the help of this Prime Minister of the Mountains, I think we will be much more confident in resolving the siege of Orleans!"

Compared to the people following behind her, the person standing in front spoke with an air of confidence and pride. She stood at the edge of the shadows as she emerged from the forest, and her stature was not only short but even somewhat petite. Her long golden hair fluttered in the wind, and the braided ends of her hair swayed like a sparrow's tail.

Her face was clean and delicate, her eyes like Roland's, and she wore only a simple dark purple long dress uniform, the swaying of the skirt revealing her heroic spirit.

Upon hearing her words, the 'attendant' immediately responded respectfully:

"That is certainly true, Lady Joan of Arc."

Jeanne Darc.

A girl from a wealthy peasant family in the countryside who did not receive much education.

A girl who claimed to have met a holy angel under the command of 'God' when she was twelve years old.

This year, she successfully predicted the English defeat in a war and gained the attention of Prince Richard, who was thousands of miles away. In a formal letter, she was appointed as the commander of the front-line army and was responsible for resolving the siege of Orleans.

At the age of sixteen, to learn of such glory and bear such a heavy burden, in the eyes of most outsiders, this was nothing more than a foolish decision made by Prince Charles in a desperate situation after the death of King Charles VI, when the country was in dire straits and the battlefield was in a state of constant retreat. It was a useless straw that a fool clung to before he died.

But Gilles de Rais thought otherwise.

Even though he came from a noble family and inherited his father's knighthood, he originally looked down on such a young girl. When he learned that he, as a front-line officer, had been transferred to Joan of Arc's command by Prince Charles, he was furious.

However, these days, as he followed this seemingly ordinary girl around as her attendant, he witnessed her vitality and confidence, as if she had inexhaustible energy and spirit. He was also inspired by her and felt that there was still hope for France, which was on the verge of collapse. He thought that Joan of Arc might really be able to create a miracle called France.

Of course, he also understood that, faced with the relentless and aggressive bombardment from the British, their strength alone was far from sufficient.

This is the purpose of their trip.

We visited a hermit who lived in seclusion here.

Visit a 'village sage' who is not in the imperial court but is highly regarded by many.

His name is 'Vic Touval' – meaning 'victor' in French.

"I also believe that someone who receives such high praise from my older sister will certainly not disappoint you."

Finally, Gilles de Rais added this.

Upon learning of their intention to visit Victoire, his sister, who had inherited the mystical path in his family, wrote a letter to lavish praise on this country sage—Isabel de Rais, the famous Loire beauty, Gilles found it hard to imagine that she would praise someone so highly, calling him a 'miracle,' a 'born knower,' and a 'god-like figure.'

But the familiar handwriting forced him to admit one thing.

This also sparked his strong interest in Viktorval.

Even though he himself had read Vic's books, knew of the praise people had for Vic's profound thoughts and concise writing, and knew of Vic's 100% accurate predictions about the situation and the war—as if he could understand everything in the world just by sitting in the mountains.

Yet, he still couldn't satisfy Gillespie's curiosity.

He knew that his sister, a magician, would have absolutely no interest in these things, much less praise them.

So here he is.

Following Joan of Arc.

Stepping into this tranquil village, which, despite being located in the central plains region of France that was originally occupied by England, showed no signs of oppression whatsoever, resembling a paradise.

...

You sense that outsiders have entered the village where you have lived for over ten years.

You sensed that their aura was unusual.

But you remained calm and unhurried.

[Over the years, you have been reading and writing books in the village. Although you still haven't broken through the barrier of mind magic, your understanding of the mysteries of this era has become increasingly profound—unless you allow it, no one, unless they are a 'Grand Rank' magician, can exercise the mystery called magic in this village.]

You sensed their presence approaching.

You know they're after you.

You already knew their identities and purposes.

"The weather's nice today, so let's go for a walk and take a look around!"

In what appeared to be an ordinary country courtyard, Lu Kang looked up at the bright, clear blue sky above, where the sun shone brightly.

He put down the parchment book he had just picked up, his mood equally bright.

He got up and pushed open the door.

The silence of these days has been enough.

He was also feeling a bit bored and wanted to find some 'fun'!

...

"Is this the place? The place the villagers call Vic Towar's residence."

at the same time.

Looking at the ordinary country courtyard in the distance, Gilles de Rais hesitated slightly, finding it hard to imagine that a reclusive sage lived there.

Joan of Arc, however, remained calm and composed, her face still bearing a vibrant, confident, and approachable smile. She said, "Whether it's right or wrong, it's always good to pay a visit."

The girl took a step forward and was about to knock on the door.

Her behavior was completely contrary to the aristocratic etiquette that Jill was familiar with, and she truly lived up to her reputation as a country bumpkin. However, her frankness made it impossible for anyone to feel any disgust towards her.

But at this moment.

In the very next second, in that instant.

A sudden gust of wind arose on the country road in front of the courtyard, whipping up a cloud of dust that instantly alarmed Gil. The figure that suddenly approached in the wind made the noble knight open his mouth and shudder.

He quickly drew his sword.

The magic released quickly spread across his palm and covered the narrow blade of the sword.

However, if they act now...

But it seemed too late.

The figure approaching in the wind came incredibly fast, and the way it attacked the girl was so fluid it was almost perfect—perfect like a cheetah leaping out of the air, or like a river bursting and exploding through the air.

Joan of Arc glanced sideways.

The girl's blue-purple pupils were instantly filled with a cold light.

A menacing aura emanates from the scene—an assassin is on the move!

Boom!

One second later, then another second.

Joan of Arc stood still, but the assassin who attacked her was sent flying backward in an instant.

Back again and again.

Press it down again and again.

Finally, it crashed heavily to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and flying debris, its fate unknown.

This sudden turn of events caught Gillespie off guard.

In such a commotion.

Joan of Arc, however, had completely lost interest in the defeated assassin.

Instead, he looked towards the courtyard in front of him.

A tall, slender, and handsome figure emerged from behind the opened door, clad in a heavy, dark classical robe.

she...

They met a 'god'.

...

[Based on the mind, and thus on the mind as the repository of the mysterious God]

You defeated the assassin who attacked the young girl.

What was used, however, was not magic.

Rather, it is a purer mystery, a 'miracle' that comes from praying to one's own soul.

At that time, Joan of Arc, who was not yet known as a saint, said to him:

That's not just for people.

It is also called 'God'.

That was the first meeting between the saint and the sage.

It will also be a dance between humanity and divinity.

—Chapter 1, "Saint and Vic, Joan of Arc and the Sages," from the "Biographies of Famous People: Joan of Arc" series (this book is housed in the Great Library of London).

Chapter 53 Listening to the Lord's Revelation (Major Revision)

The power of miracles may seem elusive, but it is fundamentally different from magic.

This is one of your achievements over the years, not a breakthrough, but simply a derivative application of your original abilities.

[The magic you performed before this was a flow of mystical past obtained by calling upon the foundation formed by the soul that became the 'demon god' through your own thoughts. The way it was activated was similar to the miracles performed by the church, but its essence was still magic—the use of mystical knowledge stored in the past.]

Although it contains elements of miracles, it is still a magic originating from the heart.

[But at this moment, what you are using is nothing more than a pure miracle.]

There is no past, only the present—that is, the power of faith.

[You believe in yourself, and the foundation of your soul returns to its divine form, responding to your faith, transforming your faith into power, and bestowing upon you true miracles.]