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Chapter 305 The Funeral (Part 2)

The church was quiet, and he was accompanied only by Malena.

“She has indeed aged,” Chen Xuan said softly.

Joan of Arc's once dazzling golden hair had turned gray, and deep wrinkles were visible on her forehead and around her eyes. She had also removed her almost ever-present armor and donned a linen robe. She had worn this outfit before when she lived in anonymity as a cowherd in a mountain village, and it was clear that she had not resisted that experience much; rather, she viewed her death as another form of seclusion.

“I still don’t believe in the existence of gods… but at this moment, I hope her god will accept her.” Malena clasped her hands together and prayed for her.

"I guess... you are the divine messenger who brought miracles that Joan of Arc spoke of?"

Suddenly, a voice full of vicissitudes rang out from behind the two.

Chen Xuan turned around and saw that the speaker was an elderly woman, leaning on a cane and shrouded in a black robe. He stared at her for a few seconds before realizing that it was the standard robe of a witch's gathering place, and that this person was also a witch.

"Lord Joey!" Malena called out softly, bowing with her hand on her chest.

Who? Chen Xuan couldn't remember for a moment.

However, he noticed that the other party did not use honorifics when addressing Joan of Arc, and it was quite intimate.

“My name is Aydar Joy, the leader of the Coven of Witches… up to this day, of course,” the old woman introduced herself. “You look like a statue… no matter how many years have passed, you still look as radiant as ever.”

Chen Xuan suddenly remembered—one of the three statues standing outside Versailles Cathedral was her. But the woman before him was actually the long-haired, flamboyant leader of the witches? He could no longer reconcile the image of her with that of the statue.

"You're not going to be the leader anymore? Why?" Malena asked in surprise.

"There aren't that many whys, I'm just tired of it." Aidar shrugged nonchalantly. "Without Joan of Arc by my side, I can't be bothered with so many things."

"But……"

"Hold on, I'm not the topic today." The old woman slowly walked to Chen Xuan's side and extended her hand. "I hope I haven't used your etiquette incorrectly?"

She even knew this... Did Joan of Arc tell her?

Chen Xuan grasped the other person's hand, "Quite standard."

“Alas, I never imagined our first meeting would be under such circumstances,” Aydar said regretfully. “When you accepted Joan of Arc’s commission in Paris, I was on the front lines. Later, when the Allied forces launched their counter-offensive across the sea, I was wounded and had to retreat to the second line. I always thought there was plenty of time and no need to rush, but now that I’ve met her, she’s gone.”

“You two must have had a very good relationship,” Chen Xuan comforted her. “Please accept my condolences.”

“Hehe… It is indeed very good. She extended an olive branch to me when the witches were in the most dangerous situation, and the gathering place also gave me a full reward in this long war. I could talk about her story for days and nights without finishing it.” Aidar looked at Chen Xuan meaningfully, “It’s just that many of the topics she talked about were related to you… My understanding of you is basically all from her stories.”

He fell silent, unsure of what to say.

Aidar smiled. "Alright, let's not talk about these sentimental topics. I've come to you to fulfill Joan of Arc's request. Here... this is what she wanted to give you."

As she spoke, the old woman took a letter from her robe and handed it to him.

Chen Xuan was slightly surprised, "For me?"

"Yes. She said it was her biggest secret, and I feel honored to be able to take on this responsibility of handing it over," the other person nodded.

He took the letter with a puzzled look, not quite understanding why Joan of Arc hadn't simply left it with him.

She can come to the store anytime she wants.

“Don’t overthink it. Joan of Arc said this can only be delivered to the messenger of the gods after her death,” Eidal said, waving her hand as if she had guessed his confusion. She then nodded to Malena, and the two walked to the other side of the church, clearly giving him space to read the letter. Chen Xuan opened the envelope.

Inside was a parchment with Chinese writing on it—of course, this wasn't too surprising. After fighting together for so long, most of the witches and high-ranking monks were bilingual, so it wouldn't be difficult for Joan of Arc to learn another language.

"Greetings, Your Excellency, Divine Envoy."

"Please forgive me for choosing to tell you the truth at this time."

"In other people's eyes, I am a devout believer, a saint of God, but only I know that I am not as steadfast in my faith as they imagine."

"Actually, when we first met, I guessed that you were probably not God's messenger. However, the medicine was truly effective, so I deliberately lied to boost my men's morale. When I saw you accept this identity, I secretly breathed a sigh of relief, which at least meant that you were not an enemy of the gods. But I didn't expect that the power you bestowed upon me next would be nothing short of a miracle, causing me to waver for a moment—the gods may indeed exist, but they are not the ones I believe in."

"Later, because I was wrongfully imprisoned, I prayed to the Lord countless times, but I never received a response. In the end, it was still you who appeared before me... At that time, although I still called you Divine Messenger, the name of God became blurred."

"And then, you answered my calls time and time again."

"I gradually realized that I was no longer a believer in God."

"You walk on earth, yet you never care that your name is ignored by others. I know all this, but I dare not reveal the truth. The witches are a cautionary tale of the terrible consequences of a confused faith. I can only continue to be this unworthy saint, and even God's spokesperson."

"You have always known everything, yet you continue to play the role of a divine messenger for me. Is this another form of test? I dare not ask you, and I have wanted to reveal the truth to the public many times, but the unclear battlefield situation and the fear of the unknown have kept me from speaking."

"If this is a test of faith, then I have undoubtedly disappointed you. But I still have a sliver of hope that as long as this charade continues, the monarchy and the people will not be divided, and that social stability can be maintained in the name of God, even if it has long since left me."

I feel guilty towards you.

"After I die, I will probably not be able to return to God's embrace, but I do not regret my choice."

"I do not ask for your forgiveness for my sins, I only hope that you will continue to protect France."

"Your believer, Joan of Arc."

What... is this what you've been keeping on your mind all this time?

So for thirty years, he never went into that room on his own initiative, nor did he ever visit the store.

Is it just because of guilt and remorse?
Chen Xuan put away the letter and looked at Joan of Arc with mixed feelings... It's such a small matter, why didn't you just tell me directly? That way I could have told you clearly that it doesn't matter which god you believe in, and I don't need any believers. You are just a customer of the ability shop... and also my friend, nothing more.

"Finished reading it?" Aidar Joy led Malena around again. "Can you tell me what she said in the letter?"

"I'm sorry, it's a secret." Chen Xuan shook his head.

"Unfortunately... I was really curious." Aidar sighed, feigning regret.

“However…” he paused, “she is indeed a stubborn person.”

The old woman paused for a moment, then chuckled softly, "Yes, I think so too! Ever since the day I met her... I've thought so..."

As she laughed, she turned her head away and covered her face with her hand.

As evening fell, Joan of Arc was carried by a grand procession to the lawn outside Versailles Cathedral, where she was cremated in front of thousands of Parisians. Accompanied by the choir's rousing chants, the flames quickly engulfed her wooden bed and her body. But this time, the fire brought her not pain, but supreme glory and honor.

(End of this chapter)