This strange treatment left Jeanne deeply perplexed.
Eventually, she arrived in an empty room. Standing inside was Shakespeare, who offered her a respectful, formal bow.
"Ruler, I am Caster, William Shakespeare. I have been awaiting your arrival for quite some time~!" Shakespeare said with a flourish.
Jeanne possessed the ability [True Name Discernment]. Knowing Shakespeare's specific stats and capabilities, she didn't view him as a serious threat at all.
"Has Amakusa Shirou Tokisada gone mad? To send you to block my path?" Jeanne gripped her flag, her expression full of disdain.
"Hehehe, against a Ruler who wields absolute authority, I am the only suitable opponent! Now, let us appreciate the stage I have painstakingly crafted specifically for you over these many days~!" Shakespeare grinned as he unleashed his Noble Phantasm.
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Jeanne's vision instantly went black.
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When Jeanne slowly opened her eyes, she found herself back in her familiar little village. Golden wheat swayed all around, releasing a thick, rich scent of grain. The entire village was permeated with an ancient, nostalgic atmosphere.
"This is..." Jeanne's eyes widened in shock. For a moment, she was lost. Her mind raced with thoughts: Is this an illusion? Or the effect of Caster's Noble Phantasm?
Just then, a figure appeared beside her. Jeanne looked closely—it was her mother!
The moment her mother saw Jeanne, she burst into tears, wailing, "Why must you be executed by fire? Why must you suffer such hardship?"
"Why must you be mocked for eighteen long years?"
Jeanne was dazed. Initially, she felt the place was incredibly realistic, but her mother's words felt strangely "out of character." However, her mother immediately lunged forward to embrace her, pleading: "Child, didn't you set out because you received a Revelation from the Lord? Take your mother's advice—don't go adventuring anymore. Stay here by my side, won't you?"
"No, Mother, I must go. The people of France need me; they are suffering and waiting for me to save them. Moreover, what I pursue is not just saving the country, but an even greater, more noble goal..." Jeanne replied firmly.
"Ahhh..." Her mother continued to weep, her voice filled with despair and helplessness.
Jeanne looked around warily before asking, "Caster, are you satisfied now?"
Shakespeare's lips curled into a cunning smile. "No, no, no! The best part is just about to begin! Now, please enjoy the Second Act!"
Before the words had finished, the curtains of the stage were whipped open. The scene instantly shifted to the chaotic, bloody battlefield of Orleans.
"Wait, please don't kill me!" an extra playing a soldier cried out in terror, only to be ruthlessly cut down by enemies played by other actors.
Jeanne stood silently in the center of the battlefield, watching it all with cold eyes. Her body was stained with blood, as if she were long accustomed to the cruelty of war.
Seeing this, Shakespeare smirked. "Holy Maiden, you truly are covered in blood!"
Jeanne replied expressionlessly, "No matter what you show me, the result will be the same. Since everyone—myself included—is already stained with blood, why would I fear the cruelty of the battlefield?"
But then, something unexpected happened.
Shakespeare, suddenly dressed in a general's uniform, sat up and asked in a mocking tone: "Then, I question you now as the representative of Charles VII!"
Jeanne was startled by his sudden "resurrection."
Then, Shakespeare appeared in the center of the stage, wearing a tattered tunic stripped from a common soldier. He spoke with intense passion: "You threw yourself into the fray, stained your hands with blood, and saved France!"
"Yet in the end, you were burned at the stake. In the eyes of us who came after, that was nothing but betrayal, tragedy, and despair!"
Shakespeare used a majestic, deep voice to command the entire "audience" to ask in unison: "Even so, do you still hold fast to your faith?"
Jeanne answered without a second's hesitation: "Of course!" Her voice was firm and powerful, as if piercing through the barriers of time. "My death was arranged by destiny. The moment I raised my flag, I was destined to give up the right to an easy life in my hometown!"
Seeing her so unwavering, Shakespeare frowned slightly and snapped his fingers.
The scene shifted instantly. It was the moment before Jeanne's execution—walking down the street toward the pyre. People all around cursed her, venting their hatred and resentment.
"What foul taste!" Jeanne cursed, looking at her ragged clothes.
At that moment, the cavalryman leading Jeanne on horseback turned around, revealing Shakespeare's face. He wore a playful smirk. "Deeply sorry, the prop master got the costumes mixed up!"
"Huh?" Jeanne blinked, confused.
"The real criminal is already at the execution site!" Shakespeare whispered with a smile.
Jeanne looked forward anxiously.
—It was Haruka Kasugano. He was tied to the stake, his body swaying weakly.
"What?!!" The moment she saw Haruka Kasugano, Jeanne's rationality collapsed.
"Release him right now!!!" She screamed hysterically, charging toward him recklessly.
However, Shakespeare easily held her back, smiling. "Oh dear, please don't interfere with the actors' performance~!"
Then, Pop! Crackle! Boom!
The inquisitors threw their torches at Haruka Kasugano. In an instant, a roaring inferno swallowed him.
"Stop it...!"
"Please stop, stop it!"
"Why... why didn't you burn me instead of him?"
Jeanne was frantic, begging continuously.
At that moment, the inquisitor standing beside her turned around. He still wore Shakespeare's familiar smile. He chuckled and said, "My, isn't this something you once did?"
"What?" Jeanne was utterly baffled. she stared at him, unable to comprehend.
"It is a pity, but 'our' Noble Phantasm builds the stage based on your memories~!" Shakespeare giggled.
"In other words—the one who wanted to kill him wasn't 'us,' but you!!!"
"No!!!" Jeanne roared. "I never thought such a thing..."
For some reason, despite knowing it was a simple mental attack, Jeanne could not maintain her composure. It felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart, making it impossible to breathe. Her eyes remained locked on Haruka Kasugano, watching him struggle in agony in the fire until he was reduced to ash.
Jeanne's face was a mask of despair. Her body trembled uncontrollably, and tears blurred her vision. She tried to reach out for him, but it was futile. Her heart was filled with self-reproach and regret. Why couldn't I protect him? Why did this tragedy happen?
Shakespeare smiled. He knew his plan was working.
"Now, the final act~!" He snapped his fingers again.
Snap!
Jeanne's vision went dark once more.
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The scene shifted instantly into a terrifying castle filled with the scent of blood. The dim stone room reeked of decay. In the center sat a luxurious bed, but it was covered in blood-stained dolls.
Shakespeare picked up a nearby puppet, frowning. "It seems I can't quite simulate that atmosphere perfectly. Perhaps this scene wouldn't pass the censors!"
Jeanne stared blankly at the blood-soaked, broken puppets. A flicker of recognition crossed her mind. "This place is..."
"This is a substitute for Tiffauges Castle. Do you understand now?" Shakespeare explained with a smirk.
Jeanne realized immediately. "I see. This is Gilles de Rais's castle."
She knew his infamy well—the "Bluebeard" demon who notoriously slaughtered innocent children. Yet, Gilles had once been Jeanne's comrade-in-arms.
"Do you intend to slaughter those poor children before my eyes again?" Jeanne's eyes flashed with anger and resolve. She loathed such atrocities and felt a deep contempt for Shakespeare's low-effort schemes.
Shakespeare blinked, surprised she thought that way. He burst into laughter. "No, no, no! There is an actor far more suited for this than I!"
Following the direction of Shakespeare's finger, a third party approached. Jeanne was frozen in shock.
The man was Gilles de Rais, but looking exactly as he did when she was alive—not the "Bluebeard" demon from the Fourth War. This general in white armor stepped out of the shadows with a smile. He clutched a mysterious sphere in his hands, his eyes glinting with a chilling light.
"Oh, look who it is. Isn't it Jeanne?" Gilles's voice was full of mockery.
"Enough! What is the point of creating these fake people and scenes?" Jeanne snapped at Shakespeare. She was disgusted by this pointless simulation. "You want to trap me with your Noble Phantasm, but you've reached your limit, haven't you?"
Jeanne chuckled and began attempting to manifest her own Noble Phantasm. Her flag flickered in the air, but it remained suppressed by Shakespeare's power. Still, it was only a matter of time.
"Haha, perhaps. But allow me to correct one mistake!" Shakespeare pointed triumphantly at Gilles. "He isn't a puppet I simulated. He is a genuine Heroic Spirit!"
Jeanne froze, disbelief written all over her face. "What? Impossible!"
"Indeed, I am a Servant, summoned here by Caster!" Gilles de Rais said with a touch of pride.
"Is it really... Gilles?" Jeanne's voice was full of shock.
"The one and only Marshal Gilles is here! Though he's but a Servant in name only!" Shakespeare teased from the side.
Gilles smiled, ignoring the jibe. "More importantly, Jeanne, since I am also a Servant, I brought a gift for you."
He unwrapped the cloth covering the sphere in his hands. Haruka Kasugano's severed head was revealed.
"This is the finest material I failed to obtain in my previous life~!" Gilles said expressionlessly.
".....No... it can't be.....!" Jeanne covered her eyes and slumped down.
It was something she absolutely could not bear to see. Something she hadn't even imagined. It was the face of the man who fought beside her, the one she had come to understand on a deep level.
"Please. No... don't make me see that...!"