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

I have to get my adopted sister out of here no matter what!

Just at this time--

A series of clattering footsteps came from the outside corridor.

A figure slowly approached the prison where the sworn siblings were located from the other end of the corridor.

She moved closer and closer, finally stopping right in front of Ian, who was trying to overcome the obstacle.

"So he got caught. How pitiful."

The visitor was none other than Prierati, who had recently disappeared.

"..."

Ian looked at the purple-haired girl in front of him, his expression becoming somewhat complicated.

But in the end, he smiled and said:

"So you're alright...that's great."

"It's been so long since I've seen you."

"I thought you had been killed by those Burgundians."

"..."

Plerati was taken aback when he heard this.

She clearly hadn't expected that Ian's first words upon meeting her would be to express his relief at being alive and present.

"Are you worried about me?"

"...If you want to call it concern, you could call it concern."

Ian said, neither arrogant nor humble.

"After all, in a sense, you did keep your promise and told me about that magician, didn't you?"

"..."

Plerati turned his head away and muttered to himself.

"You two siblings are really alike...so kind it's almost foolish."

“But kindness itself is not wrong.” Ian looked directly at Prierati. “Isn’t it?”

"..."

Seemingly unable to refute Ian's words, Plerati remained silent for a long time before speaking again.

"So, will your kindness allow you to escape from here?"

"Of course not now."

Ian took a deep breath and continued working on the magic on the vertical pole in front of him—although progress was still zero so far.

"But I will not give up... never."

Your words seem to have touched a nerve with Plerati.

A complex emotion flickered in her purple eyes—an emotion she hadn't shown before.

That might be a regret that your magician talent hasn't been fully realized, or it might be a resentment at your perceived lack of potential.

In short, her thoughts underwent an unexpected change at that moment.

This directly affected her subsequent actions.

“I say, Pierre, aren’t you curious how I got here?”

“Curious.” Ian’s hand touched the bars of the prison cell, and a warm sensation traveled up his arm.

"But that doesn't make any sense... I just want to know how to get out of here."

“What if I said I could help you get out?” Plerati replied, arms crossed.

"..."

Ian didn't answer her directly, but instead looked up at the purple-haired girl in front of him.

While there was some doubt in his eyes, there was even more hope for Plerati, who had uttered those words.

"Don't look at me like that," Plerati said, slightly annoyed. "It makes me very uncomfortable."

"And I really can do that."

"but--"

Plerati stretched out his hand and pointed at Ian in front of him.

"I will only save you."

"As for your sister—"

“I have no interest in her whatsoever…so I have no intention of rescuing her.”

"..."

Without much hesitation, Ian sighed and answered directly.

"Then let's forget about it... Thank you for your kind offer, Prierati."

The purple-haired girl instantly understood what Ian meant—if it was just about saving him and abandoning his adopted sister Jeanne, he would rather not be saved himself.

"You stupid!"

Plerati's eyes widened, and he looked somewhat exasperated.

"It was those vicious Burgundians who brought you here."

"If you stay here any longer, you'll definitely die here!"

"Of course I know that."

Ian continued analyzing the magic tricks on the vertical pole in front of him, his tone quite serious.

“It was precisely because I knew this would be the outcome that I wanted to rescue my sister… She absolutely shouldn’t die in a place like this; this is not the life she deserves.”

“Pierre, you idiot!” Plerati yelled, “Is this how your life is supposed to be?!”

"Is it really worth it for you to go through all this trouble because of a younger sister who doesn't even know her own limitations?!"

"..."

Ian turned around and saw Joan of Arc, who had cried herself to sleep.

She was wrapped in the coat she had just taken off, looking as delicate as a rag doll.

His expression relaxed slightly, and then, as if he had made up his mind, he turned around and looked at Prierati, who was stamping his feet in frustration.

"Yes... is it all really worth it?"

"I've thought about this question countless times before... Is it really worth it for Na to give up so much?"

"But now I've figured it out—"

"If Jeanne didn't exist, this world would mean nothing to me."

"My existence is solely for the purpose of ensuring her existence."

"so--"

“I will never abandon her... never.”

"She is the saint of my life."

"..."

Plerati's face began to contort.

That was her anger and embarrassment at seeing Ian reject her idea outright.

"What a saint he is!"

"Fine! Since you think your sister is a saint... then she definitely has to experience what all saints have to go through, right?!"

"Ian...you just wait, your sister will soon become a true saint!"

"And after that, you will become a true magician!"

"I, Prielatti, always keep my word!"

After saying this, the purple-haired girl strode away.

She vanished completely from the corridor, as if she had never been there at all.

A vicious curse spread throughout the night.

That was the madness of Plerati—she was determined to destroy Joan of Arc!

After that, Prieti never appeared before you again.

She seemed to have vanished from the world along with the ferocity of that day.

And you were unable to break through the prison's blockade against you and Joan of Arc.

[You and Joan of Arc have been imprisoned here for over a month.]

She spent her eighteenth birthday in prison.

[Upon learning of your capture, Charles VII repeatedly demanded a ransom—he was even willing to cede an entire city for it.]

But the English refused his request without hesitation.

They continue to detain you and Joan of Arc, arguing that God's will should also come to England.

Another year has passed.

[Through your hard work, you have finally broken free of the magical shackles of prison.]

But all of this has become meaningless at this moment.

[Because the English announced a decision that very evening.]

them--

Joan of Arc must be put on a public trial!