However, a plan is just a plan. No matter how great the potential, it's all empty talk before it grows; her dream is still far off.
Leaving aside Rin, who was still sailing on the Mediterranean, the scene returns to France.
Billowing thick smoke rose from a small, remote village in the mountains of southern France. The constant screeching of Wyverns and the presence of mindless zombie soldiers made this remote village look like hell.
Carmilla, the monster and dark-side Heroic Spirit representing the legendary Blood Countess Elizabeth Bathory, elegantly held a struggling girl whose throat had been slit, bathing in the blood spraying from her artery.
"Hahahaha!"
A burst of boisterous laughter interrupted Carmilla's enjoyment. Vlad III, riding a warhorse that looked like a hellish nightmare, came to a halt beside the blood-soaked Carmilla.
"As expected, Carmilla, this kind of life suits us! I can't wait to crush the last fortress of those rats and taste the blood of that Light of France!"
Snap!
With a casual twist, Carmilla tossed the dead girl's body to the ground. She then turned to look at Vlad III, who still had blood on his mouth, and said with annoyance:
"Vlad! You interrupted my bath!"
"Oh! My apologies. But Gilles is urging us to advance. Of course, if you're unwilling, I can go talk to that fellow Gilles for you!"
"You!"
Vlad III gave Carmilla a haughty smile and, with the sound of hooves, galloped out of the village.
"Damn it! A monster just like me dares to be so arrogant. Do you think you're still the King of Romania? You're just a monster in human skin like me, you Dracula in human skin!"
Carmilla watched Vlad III's back with resentment. After speaking venomously, she took a trembling warhorse from a nearby zombie cavalryman and chased after him, heedless of the bloodstains on her body.
However, even these two 'monsters' could not resist their Master, the Dragon Queen - Jalter. If monsters feared anything, it would be a monster that stood above them!
As the Dragon Witch born from a curse and the tyrant born from all the worlds evils—Black Saber—these two were monsters among monsters in the eyes of those two.
As the other side of Saint Jeanne d'Arc, Jalter, who crawled out of the ashes of Jeanne's execution, was like a collection of negative curses from time. As noble as Jeanne was in life, Jalter was just as cruel. From holy maiden to witch, from national savior to evil dragon—this series of transformations brought Jalter's power to nearly the peak of what an ordinary Heroic Spirit could reach, and she could even command all the evil dragons of human legend.
And in the eyes of the people in this Singularity, Black Saber was an existence far more powerful than Jalter. Born in the Fifth War, Black Saber not only fused with a small portion of all the worlds evils but had also once signed a contract with the princess of the root, becoming a top-tier Heroic Spirit capable of wielding true ether.
It was precisely because of the great power of these two that, after they appeared in this Singularity, they conquered almost all of France and most of Britain in just a year and a half.
And now, the army of these two 'Queens' was on the move again following Gilles' suggestion, their spearhead pointing toward the Pyrenees Mountains, France's last bastion.
Gilles looked with displeasure at Vlad III and Carmilla, both of whom were covered in blood.
"Oh! I need sacrifices, yet you waste them so!"
"Gilles, it's just a few humans. It won't matter!"
"No, no, no, these are all resources! These are the resources needed for the Queen to realize her revenge against God; not a single one can be wasted!"
Saying this, Gilles frantically grabbed his hair and leaned back, assuming a bizarre posture.
Carmilla glared at the bizarre Gilles with annoyance.
"Hmph! Her Majesty the Queen didn't request any humans as sacrifices. This is all your idea. Besides, I was sent by Her Majesty to assist you; there's no need for me to follow your orders!"
After saying this, Carmilla turned and walked toward her own tent in the distance.
"Foolish fellow! However, I believe Carmilla is right. Still, Gilles, I will help you, but you need to pay several young girls as a reward. Hahahaha!"
Gilles stared with his bulging goldfish-like eyes, his whole body emitting an eerie aura. Watching the retreating backs of Vlad III and Carmilla, several mucus-covered tentacles emerged from beneath his robes, smashing everything in the tent as he muttered.
"It doesn't matter! When the time comes, you two will be used to fill the gap for the sacrifices offered to God!"
Gilles retracted his tentacles and waved to summon a group of Wyverns from the camp. He hopped onto one and led the group of Wyverns into the sky, disappearing from the frontline base.
In the forests of Wales, Britain.
A bizarre deathly aura continuously drifted through the dense woods. The entire forest was unexpectedly silent, almost as if it were not a world of the living.
Clack, clack, clack.
Several skeletons wearing tattered clothes were wandering through the woods, holding rusty longswords.
Suddenly, hundreds of sharp arrows flew past, shooting the skeletons into a pile of fragments. Then, a group of knights in plate armor carrying longbows emerged from the nearby dense forest.
"King! That old hag's kingdom has already spread to here!"
Black Saber slowly walked out from among the knights. She approached the knight kneeling on the ground inspecting the bone fragments and raised her foot, her steel war boots crushing the skull on the ground into powder.
"A few of you go and summon the lords from various regions; tell them to bring their armies to rendezvous with me. Also, notify the knights in the outer camp to come in and meet me. It seems necessary to teach that old hag a lesson this time!"
Saying this, Black Saber drew the corrupted Excalibur from her waist. A surge of magical energy carved a path through the dense thicket as she walked deeper inside.
The knights following Black Saber, hearing the news of another war, were all eager and full of excitement and fanaticism. After a fierce exchange of fists, a few unlucky fellows who were knocked to the ground unfortunately became the messengers, while the rest of the knights quickly followed the path opened by Black Saber to chase after their King.
One knight sat up from the ground, took off his helmet to reveal his young face, and sighed in frustration.
"Damn it, I actually lost! Sigh! I hope the old hag's side can last a bit longer this time. Don't let the entire Land of the Dead disappear and run off to Wales like it did during the fighting in Scotland last time!"
Another knight who had climbed up from the ground and was patting the dirt off his clothes said in a muffled voice.
"Yeah! I hope they can last a bit longer this time. You're lucky; last time I was the messenger, and the war was over before I'd even finished running to the lords' territories!"
At this moment, a small figure wearing leather armor, who was a bit different, climbed up from the ground. Removing the leather-studded helmet revealed a head of brilliant blonde hair and a delicate face. It turned out this unique knight was a woman!
After this Princess Knight climbed up, she first sat on the ground rubbing the bruise someone had just punched onto her face. Rolling her eyes, she said:
"Why does our knight order use fists to choose messengers? How can I beat you barbarians at fistfighting! But don't worry! The King told me that if we can resolve these lingering concerns led by the old hag, we should be crossing the sea to help the King's ally fight Egypt! We'll definitely get our fill of action then!"
A yearning smile appeared on the Princess Knight's face as she spoke.
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