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

Jeanne Alter would immediately know that she had slept with him.

"Master... what brings you here?"

"I came to see you."

Jeanne Alter sat down next to Atalanta and spoke in a rather serious tone.

"You don't need to worry—!"

"Although Camilla is dead, the rest of us can definitely destroy France!"

"..."

Atalanta did not respond to Jeanne Alter's words, but instead moved her body back slightly.

On the one hand, she was afraid that if she got too close, the other person would smell something amiss.

On the other hand, she couldn't face her Master—after all, she had used so many underhanded tactics behind the scenes.

Jeanne Alter was unaware of Atalanta's thoughts at that moment.

She simply attributed her behavior to the distress caused by Camilla's passing.

The Dragon Witch pursed her chin.

Her breathing quickened.

As a witch, she seemed to be thinking about how to pull the other person out of their current emotions.

She glanced at Atalanta, then at Ian, and suddenly an idea came to her.

The Dragon Witch's next words were completely beyond what a man could have predicted.

Jeanne Alter looked at the catgirl in front of her and began to explain what she had just thought of with a very serious attitude.

“I said, Atalanta.”

"Would you like to join me next time Ian and I are doing something pleasurable?"

"..."

"..."

The atmosphere fell into an endless silence in an instant.

Then came the catgirl's scream.

Within seconds of hearing those words, her fair cheeks flushed a dangerously red.

"Master!!!"

What are you talking about?!

What does "Do you want to come along?" mean?

Jeanne Alter, whose mental state was extremely unstable, did not realize the true meaning of Atalanta's words.

She thought the other person didn't understand what she meant by "that kind of thing," so she explained it again very carefully.

"You can come and try it out with Ian when he uses his Noble Phantasm on me."

"not like this!"

The catgirl waved her hands repeatedly, and her tail stood up straight with excitement.

"Master, that's not what I meant!"

"Then what do you mean?" Jeanne Alter looked at the Servant in front of her with a puzzled expression. "Tell me quickly."

This is a situation where being caught cheating in bed is even more distressing.

She wanted to confess why she was unwilling to try his Noble Phantasm—but the truth was that she had just used it!

Atalanta stammered for a while before answering:

“Ian… is the Master’s Servant.”

"How can I use my Master's Noble Phantasm together?"

The catgirl was incredibly guilty when she said this, but Jeanne Alter didn't notice at all.

Her focus was entirely on the problem itself.

“Why not?” Jeanne Alter retorted.

"Are you bothered by this?"

"...Of course not!"

"I don't mind."

After saying this, the Dragon Witch looked at the man beside her.

"Does it bother you?"

"..."

Upon hearing this, Atalanta also looked at Ian.

She was both afraid he would say he minded and afraid he would say he didn't mind.

However, what the catgirl didn't know was—

Men have long since reached a level of consummate skill in this area.

He smiled and nodded.

"Of course I don't mind."

"One or two, it's all the same to me... well, I'm fine with it anyway."

Hearing the answer she wanted, the Dragon Witch smiled with satisfaction.

Her gaze returned to the catgirl in front of her.

“If you don’t mind, I don’t mind, and he doesn’t mind either.”

"Then why can't we do that?"

"..."

Atalanta was momentarily at a loss for words to refute this claim.

And more importantly—

She was somewhat tempted.

Finally, the catgirl nodded.

"I understand... Since Master is willing to share, I... will accept!"

"That's good."

Black Jeanne grabbed Ian's hand beside her.

"Then next time—"

“I will call you, Atalanta.”

"Now, you should get some rest."

The room fell silent once again.

With permission granted, Atalanta leaned against the headboard, her breath warm against her skin.

Three people doing that kind of thing together?

What kind of posture would be appropriate?

Strange and bizarre images began to appear in the catgirl's mind.

The fantasy was so wonderful that she was so engrossed in it that she didn't even notice the tide washing over the shore again.

On the other side of the room.

Jeanne d'Arc Alter, who was holding Ian's hand, did not return to the room.

She led him toward the city wall—the same place where the man had just been walking with his pet.

Ian couldn't help but be curious about her choice.

"Are you going to..."

"What?"

Jeanne Alter turned to look at the man, her gaze temporarily returning to that of a submissive girlfriend.

"Can't I bring you here?"

“Of course not.” Ian smiled slightly. “You can take me wherever you want.”

"I'm just a little curious why you suddenly wanted to do something like this."

"I do not know either."

Jeanne Alter stopped in front of a city wall.

She looked at the ground in the distance, which was turning slightly white—a sign that the sun was about to rise.

"But I just wanted you to come here with me for a walk."

"..."

Although she is a dragon witch who intends to destroy a country.

But looking at Jeanne Alter's slightly melancholy profile, Ian couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.

He couldn't tell whether this feeling stemmed from her striking resemblance to Joan of Arc, or simply from the emotions that had developed during their time together.

But no matter which one—

The only thing we can do now is to achieve perfect unification, right?

The man hugged Jeanne d'Arc from behind and whispered in her ear.

"I see... I understand what you mean."

Silence fell over everything.