In the world of Type-Moon, it all begins with becoming Morgan's husband!

Joan of Arc knew you weren't lying.

Even now, with the pressure shifting, you're still thinking about how to take care of her.

She felt guilty about her anger.

"It hasn't gotten any worse..."

Joan of Arc nestled close to her brother and took his arm.

"only--"

"Compared to the Holy Flag... I prefer my brother's penis."

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

"That's what I like best."

After saying this, Joan of Arc smiled sweetly, showing no trace of her anger from before.

Ian, on the other hand, became somewhat saddened.

I came here to comfort my sister with my actions, but now it's turned into her healing me.

No.

This cannot go on.

Ian took a deep breath and immediately changed the subject.

"Speaking of -"

"Jeanne, I didn't expect you to be so brave. Holding the holy flag, you dared to charge straight to the front?"

"Aren't you... afraid of getting hurt?"

"Of course I'm afraid..." Joan of Arc's voice trailed off.

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

"But--"

Joan of Arc looked at the holy banner on the bed, her eyes filled with determination.

"Even if I'm scared, I absolutely have to be at the front."

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

"I have to do my best to do this kind of thing."

"We cannot back down...and we absolutely cannot back down. I will bring the hope that the 'angel' entrusted to me to every person in France!"

"but--"

Joan of Arc, naked, tilted her head slightly.

"I really do seem to have been blessed by 'angels'... I haven't been injured at all so far!"

"..."

Ian smiled.

"Yes, that's what I think too."

You didn't try any other strange or unusual methods.

[You satisfy your sister with a penis every day. Joan of Arc]

The day of the raid on Orleans is drawing ever closer.

But you have a vague feeling that something is wrong.

What's wrong?

Ian pondered this question deeply.

correct.

This was the reaction of the English army.

It has been almost half a month since we set off from Xinong.

During this period, the French troops captured several cities in quick succession, as if they were entering an empty field.

On the other hand, England failed to mount any effective counterattack.

Instead, they retreated all the way down the Loire River to the vicinity of Orléans.

While there may be a difference in morale, it all seems a bit too fast.

Things don't seem to be going so smoothly.

You told Joan of Arc about your worries.

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

However, it seems her opinion differs slightly from yours.

“Brother…I understand what you mean.”

Joan of Arc looked earnestly at her brother in front of her.

"But--"

"We've come all this way... we can't just turn back now, can we?"

"In that case, wouldn't His Highness's trust in us have been completely wasted in the instant of our retreat?"

Looking into his sister's resolute eyes, Ian knew she wouldn't change her strategy of pursuing her across the river.

but--

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

After all, if we were to stop moving forward at this point...

Not only will the hard-won morale be severely damaged, but the trust built up during this period will also vanish.

"Hmm... then let's proceed cautiously."

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

Of course, you haven't completely let go of your inner concerns.

You knew you had to find out what was going on in Orleans beforehand—you absolutely didn't want your sister to take any risks.

Fortunately, this city isn't too far from your base.

You decide to transform into a dragon at night to investigate the situation firsthand.

late at night.

In a forest far from the military base, Ian once again removed the pendant from his neck and gripped it tightly.

Black clouds and mist surrounded the boy.

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

"Pierre...is it for his sister again?" Dragon's Face asked.

“Yes!” Ian answered without hesitation.

“Fafner, we need to go to Orléans first—that’s where Jeanne will be leading troops to provide support.”

"We need to figure out what's going on over there first!"

"..."

The black dragon's eyes flashed with a red light.

"understood."

"but--"

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

"Yes, I will."

A perfectly clear line was drawn across the night sky.

The soaring dragon arrived near Orleans at an unimaginable speed.

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

"Yes." The dragon lowered its head slightly.

"but--"

Fafnir hesitated for a moment.

"There is no one in this city at all."

Ian was taken aback when he heard this.

"nobody?"

“Yes,” Fafnir then responded.

"There wasn't a single person in the city of Orleans."

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

However, he quickly realized what was happening.

Perhaps the city was massacred—that's why there are no survivors.

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

“No, not at all.” Fafner quickly refuted this claim.

"At least I can't see it now."

You realize something is wrong.

According to Charles VII, this area should be the region besieged by the English.

But now there is no information about the person—not even the body remains.

This situation is far too abnormal.