Type-Moon: My Destiny Guide

Yes--

Drink it all in one gulp.

Even Shuoyue was momentarily stunned. Looking at Joan of Arc, whose face seemed to say "Praise me for being so good," he felt that this French saint was like a Samoyed with its tongue sticking out, seemingly beautiful but actually adorably naive.

"Joan of Arc, this is tea."

"Well, what's wrong?"

Looking at the bewildered saintess, Shuoyue sighed and briefly introduced the traditional way of drinking tea to her. As the introduction went on, Joan of Arc's face gradually turned as dark as dusk, and her eyes were shy and timid, almost dripping with tears.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Joan jumped up from her seat in a fluster, covered her face with her hands, and paced around the room, completely unable to look Shuoyue in the eye. After the radiator was running at full power, she finally regained some of her senses and noticed that the piano lid was open.

Out of curiosity, and also because she was too shy to talk to Shuoyue, she placed her fingers on the piano keys.

The piano produced a melodious sound, and Joan of Arc, emboldened by the feedback, enthusiastically put her hands on the keys like a child, exploring the tone of each key, unaware that Shuoyue had quietly come up behind her.

"Are you interested in the piano, Joan of Arc?"

Boom! ! !

The sounds of different piano keys hitting the keys filled Shuoyue's face. Joan of Arc turned around in a panic, wanting to explain, but recalling her embarrassing situation while drinking tea, she opened her mouth and then gave up.

"Waaah, yes, I don't even know how to play the piano, please feel free to laugh at me!"

Originally a girl born and raised in the countryside, she was already carrying a flag and fighting on the front lines at the age of thirteen. After beating up the enemy Kuku for seven years, she was tragically killed by the FFF group. Her situation was truly miserable.

—In this context, there was indeed no opportunity for Joan of Arc to cultivate her character and play the role of an artistic young woman.

Shuoyue had no idea why the girl was acting so aggrieved and had tears in her eyes. He twitched his fingers slightly, resisting the urge to pinch Jeanne's cheeks, then pulled out the piano stool and sat down.

Her fingers danced across the black and white keys, weaving a beautiful melody that flowed through the room, forcing back the two large bags of tears that Joan of Arc was holding back. She stood by the piano, feeling the resonance between the strings and her chest, her eyes fixed on Shuoyue's movements, her eyes filled with stars.

"Wow……"

For her, who was tired of the sounds of war and the neighing of horses, such a peaceful and melodious sound was incredibly precious.

"It's incredible that it can produce a sound like that... Seeing it makes me want to play it."

"Yeah."

Joan of Arc squinted her eyes happily, completely immersed in the atmosphere of the music, and when her emotions had accumulated to a certain point, her throat moved slightly.

Before she spoke out, 'revelation' issued a warning.

There's someone behind me!

Turning her head as if electrocuted, she saw, in the same spot, a beautiful female hunter with long, emerald-green hair, two animal ears, and narrowed her eyes, her gaze filled with hostility as she looked at Joan of Arc.

stare……

Atalanta's favorability towards Joan of Arc decreased by 99 points.

unknown reason.

After much thought, Ta-Miao decided to blame Jeanne herself for the incident.

After completing her daily hunt, Atalanta followed the sound of the lyre to this place—it had happened a few minutes earlier.

In just a few minutes, she witnessed the saintess's weak, persistent, and reckless behavior, which shattered her understanding of the world.

Is that valiant and awe-inspiring ruler on the battlefield, who almost risked his life to protect the world, really this kind of person in everyday life?

For Atalanta, a huntress who grew up alone without parents, this sense of dependence must be unforgivable, right?

She wouldn't allow the girl to expose her weakness to anyone, because from a young age Atalanta understood that tears and pleas would not get her anything, and that if she wanted to get what she deserved, she should shoot it down with her own bow and arrows.

...It's hard to imagine that I've become like this; it's a betrayal of everything I experienced as a child.

Stared at by Atalanta as if she were trash, Joan of Arc weakly raised her hand: "Excuse me... what did I do wrong?"

Atalanta already harbored a nameless rage, and since Joan of Arc had volunteered to block the gun, she simply and decisively drew her bow in retaliation.

"How could you do this, as the arbitrator?"

"I, what's wrong with me?"

"You showed weakness and dependence in front of your Servants, completely lacking any dignity... Moreover, you also showed intimacy with the new moon and the Black Faction's Servants!"

Ta-Miao was completely unaware that she had revealed her true feelings; she was still posting:

"How can we trust you like this? How can we believe in the fairness of the Holy Grail War? Not only that, what about your dignity as a hero? Are you powerless without a man...?"

As expected of the Huntress, every arrow she shot hit Joan of Arc's vitals. Just before Joan of Arc was about to be severely injured, Shuoyue quietly got up, came behind Ta-Miao, and began to grope her.

"Listen carefully, even we women... well, we shouldn't... umm, do this..."

Seeing the expression of enjoyment on Atalanta's face, and how her speech had become intermittent, Jeanne's expression gradually became interesting. She looked at Atalanta, who was lying like a cat, and at Sakumo, who was sitting on the sofa and providing free lap pillows, with a resentful look in her eyes.

"Excuse me, Miss Red Team, how are you feeling right now?"

"It feels so good, mmm..."

After letting out a comfortable groan, Atalanta's eyes glazed over, and she slumped limply onto Shuoyue's lap, motionless, as if she had turned into a pool of liquid.

What kind of bad intentions could a cat possibly have?.jpg

Chapter 495 The Music and the Song

Having satisfied her feline desires, Atalanta's sense of shame regained control. Without even a moment's remorse for her blunder, she turned and ran, likely not daring to encounter that despicable couple for a long time.

Shuoyue tilted his head. Although he understood why Atalanta had run away, he didn't understand her reason for doing so.

It's just playing with the cat when you're bored, right? Even when friends come to visit, I've never seen anyone not let you touch their own cat.

—This is what Shuoyue thought, treating Atalanta like a cat.

As for Joan of Arc, she interpreted Atalanta's awkward behavior as a completely different emotion, believing that she had exposed Atalanta's despicable act of tricking her into touching and hugging, thus winning back a point, and was in a state of great satisfaction.

However, the appearance of the Tower Cat also made Jeanne feel threatened. She looked at Shuoyue and took the initiative to speak:

"New Moon, there's a song, I wonder if you can play it?"

Looking at the new moon with anticipation, Joan of Arc named the song that had been passed down by word of mouth during her time.

It is worth mentioning that there was no piano in the 15th century; there was only an instrument called the harpsichord, which originated in Italy. The harpsichord's tone was not ideal, with a low volume and a monotonous sound. It was not until the 18th century that the German Christopher improved it, which led to the prototype of the modern piano.

Thanks to his extensive music theory knowledge from his previous life, Shuoyue did understand the song Joan of Arc was singing, but he only showed a slightly helpless expression and spread his hands, saying:

"You also know that the history of this instrument doesn't connect with your era, so..."

“I understand.” Joan of Arc sighed somewhat dejectedly, but just then, Shuoyue changed the subject:

"Of course, if you can sing the melody a cappella, I can play it!"

"Really?" The girl was taken aback, looking at the young man with some suspicion, feeling that the curve of his lips looked like a mischievous smile. "You're not trying to trick me into singing for you, are you?"

"Since that's the case, I'll put it another way." Shuoyue remained unmoved, calmly stating:

"My dearest Joan of Arc, would you please sing me a song?"

"What's wrong?" The young man tilted his head in confusion, his eyes full of seriousness as he looked at the girl.

Joan of Arc, her hands cupping her flushed cheeks, turned her head away, her amethyst-like eyes darting around, revealing her flustered emotions.

"You're taking this way too seriously... How can I possibly accept this..."

"Really? But all I want to hear right now is hear you sing."

"You, you're still bullying me!"

Their romantic comedy went unnoticed by others, but someone hidden deep within the assassin's soul was practically laughing hysterically.

Compared to Artoria, who suppressed her inner feelings and knew nothing about matters between men and women, Joan of Arc, though she had never experienced love, would still yearn for the sweet love described in picture books, even if she was a country girl living in romantic France.

As for Sakuzuki, who appears as a job agent, he is quite direct in personality, and he also inherited the original's extremely high EQ and IQ - obviously, such a man can always deliver a fatal blow to his female companion during the ambiguous period of dating, with outstanding effect.

Not to mention that the object of his affections was a young French girl experiencing her first love.

"If... if Shuoyue sings along too, then I can..."

"Really? But I should at least hear it once, shouldn't I?"

"Yes, that's right."

And so Joan of Arc was easily ensnared. She cleared her throat, tentatively uttered a few syllables, and began to sing.

It was a simple song circulating in the army during Christmas. Gilles de Rais instigated everyone to drag her, who had only heard the song a few times, onto a makeshift stage, causing her to make a huge fool of herself.

Unconvinced, she secretly practiced and finally mastered the song in her spare time. Just as she was determined to impress everyone, the increasingly fierce battle caused them to miss Christmas the following year.

In the third year, she was captured and could only sing this song quietly in prison.

In the very end, she didn't even get to see the Christmas tree before she embraced the flames on the cross and transformed into a white dove soaring in the sky.

Memories slowly unfold, blending into the melodious, flowing song, and time, in its favor, etches the past romances into the twilight of dusk.

The music began, blending harmoniously with Joan of Arc's singing. At first, it was just a simple melody, but when the new moon finally raised its left hand and began the formal performance, the battlefields Joan of Arc had traversed, the smoke of battle, the songs, and the hopes unfolded like a scroll.

Joan of Arc stared wide-eyed in disbelief, and, captivated by the music, she became somewhat mesmerized.

Joan of Arc involuntarily clasped her hands together. Her singing voice was heavenly, and her soul transcended the barriers of time, conversing with her deceased loved ones in the afterlife.

Worry, concern, blessings... Joan of Arc heard the words and expectations of her comrades. Just as she was about to reply, a beautiful male voice rang out, and the melody he sang transformed into a young man in black robes who entered the illusion and stood shoulder to shoulder with Joan of Arc.

As his fingertips tapped the piano keys, Shuoyue closed his eyes and sang out loud. It was as if a large, kind hand was holding a soft, small hand, as if the long necks of swans were intertwined, and as if Christmas lights were enveloping the fluttering snowflakes... Gradually, his voice and the girl's voice merged into one. The memory was distant, but the song was even more distant than the distance.

Not far away, Atalanta looked at the two figures, now only silhouettes, her beast ears drooping. She let out a soft snort, turned and walked away with firm steps, brushing past the silver-haired, red-eyed android girl.

Lost in her own thoughts, Sieg didn't notice Atalanta's expression. As she reached the doorway, she heard the sounds of piano music and singing.

Slowing down, Zieg gently pushed open the door, and the twilight rushed in, dyeing her eyes a magnificent golden-red.

"Wow……"

Unconsciously, he let out a soft inhale, and what met Zig's eyes was a scene that told of everything beautiful.

A young man, dressed in flowing black robes, sat tall at the piano, playing music with a smile on his lips. The golden-haired saintess rested her hands on the piano, looking obedient and lovely, humming a clear melody, her eyes gazing lovingly at her lover, never leaving him for a moment.

It was a beautiful sight that could heal even wounds, war, and suffering.

As the music ended, Joan of Arc, her face flushed, took small steps and squatted down in the corner. Meanwhile, Shuoyue closed the lid of her violin, looked at Siegfried at the door, and still had a slight smile on her face.

"Come in, Sieg. What do you need me for?"