Chapter 714: Kissing Joan of Arc Alter! Gilles de Rais Goes Crazy!
Joan of Arc Alter peered at the chaotic battle unfolding within the distorted space of the Reality Marble.
Her golden eyes narrowed as she looked at the few people kneeling and standing at attention nearby—the Einzbern maids and the white-haired mother-daughter duo.
"What's the situation exactly? Am I here to fight? Or just to watch a sideshow?" she asked, her voice dripping with characteristic arrogance.
Ren's lips curved into a mysterious, confident smile.
He didn't answer her directly. Instead, he looked down at the river of black filth below.
"Gilles de Rais," Ren called out, his voice amplified by magic. "Look here."
The words pierced through the roaring wind and entered Gilles de Rais's ears, deep within the pulsating mass of the Sea Demon.
The Caster turned his bulging, fish-like eyes in that direction.
At this exact moment, Ren mentally commanded the system.
[System: Live Broadcast Paused.]
The screen went black for the viewers across the multiverse.
He suddenly handed the small Illya to Irisviel, ensuring the child wouldn't see what was about to happen.
Then, he turned to the Dragon Witch.
Before Joan of Arc Alter could react or utter a sarcastic remark, Ren pulled her into his embrace. One arm wrapped around her slender waist, pulling her body flush against his, while his other hand cup the back of her head.
He lowered his head and directly captured her pale lips.
"Mmph?!!!"
Joan of Arc Alter's eyes widened in absolute shock. Her pupils contracted to pinpoints.
She was... she was kissed!
It wasn't a gentle greeting. It was an invasion.
Ren's tongue pried open her lips, tasting the heat and the faint scent of sulfur that clung to her. He kissed her with a dominance that allowed no refusal, plundering her breath and her senses.
Her body stiffened, her mind short-circuiting. She was the Avenger, the witch who burned France! How dare he—?!
But the one whose mind was most shattered was not the girl in his arms.
It was Gilles de Rais, watching from the river of muck below.
He had originally thought Artoria—the holy knight radiating light—was the Saint.
But now, seeing that face. That short, pale hair. Those features carved from his most desperate memories.
He knew. That was the Saint!
That was Jeanne!
"Jeanne... OH, JEANNE!"
That should have been his Saint! His holy, untouchable maiden!
But now?
She was being held in that man's arms. She was being kissed wantonly, her purity stained by the saliva of a stranger.
To Gilles, who worshipped Jeanne as an idol of absolute purity, this was a sight more horrifying than hell itself.
"No... No, no, no, NO!"
Gilles de Rais clawed at his own face, tearing skin.
"The Saint must be pure! She is the bride of the Lord! She must belong to ME and GOD!"
Gilles de Rais went mad. His sanity, already hanging by a thread, snapped completely.
"YOU FILTHY MONGREL! UNHAND HER!"
He wanted to kill Ren. He wanted to tear him apart with the tentacles of the abyss.
He wanted to reclaim the Saint and scrub her clean.
Up on the bridge, Ren inexplicably felt that this act of public display—this "NTR" of a madman's delusion—was quite enjoyable.
He slowly released Joan of Arc Alter.
A silver thread of saliva connected their lips before breaking.
Joan of Arc Alter stumbled back a step. She covered her mouth with her gloved hand, her face flushed so red that steam seemed ready to erupt from her ears.
Her golden eyes trembled with a mix of fury and embarrassment.
"You... you... you! How can you be so casual?!" she stammered, her fierce persona crumbling into a mess of tsundere panic. "Do you want to die?! I'll burn you!"
"Heh heh."
Ren chuckled faintly, licking his lips as if savoring the aftertaste.
"Don't forget, Jalter. You and all Heroic Spirits in the Heroic Spirit World belong to me. I am the Administrator. I can do whatever I want."
He stepped closer, looming over her. "Including claiming my property."
"Mmph! But... but you can't just... just... without warning..."
Joan of Arc Alter was overcome with shyness, unable even to say the word "kiss." Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might explode.
Ren smirked and reached out, patting her ample chest—right over her heart—as if to calm it down.
"You—!"
Ignoring her angry glare and the way she slapped his hand away, Ren turned his attention to the river.
He pointed to the Sea Demon below, which was beginning to roar in madness, its tentacles thrashing the water into foam.
"This pathetic creature below is your old friend, Gilles de Rais. Kill him for me."
"Hmm?"
Her gaze fixated on the name, her embarrassment momentarily forgotten.
"Gilles de Rais?!"
He was the original Joan of Arc's comrade-in-arms. The Marshal of France.
Although she wasn't the Saint—she was a fabrication, a darker aspect created by the Grail—she possessed the memories. She knew him.
In her memory, he was a hero. A man who fought for God and Country.
But why was the current Gilles de Rais filled with such an aura of evil, chaos, and rotting slime?
Ren stepped behind her, lifting her soft, short hair and sniffing the nape of her neck lightly.
He then whispered the explanation into her ear. "After you died, Gilles de Rais believed that Joan of Arc was imprisoned by God. He lost his faith."
"So, in order to resurrect and obtain Joan of Arc, he fell into depravity. He killed children. He engaged in forbidden alchemy and human sacrifice. He created art from suffering."
"It seems this man is deeply devoted to you... in the most twisted way possible."
Joan of Arc Alter's complex expression turned freezing cold after hearing this.
The flames of the Avenger ignited in her eyes.
"Hmph," she scoffed, clutching her banner. "I am not the Saint. I am the Dragon Witch."
"And even the original Joan never looked at Gilles that way; she only saw him as a comrade-in-arms."
"I never thought he would fall to such a degree. To target children? To wallow in filth?"
Even as Joan of Arc Alter, an entity of vengeance, she possessed a twisted moral code. She despised the hypocrisy of God, but she found the act of slaughtering children for a delusion to be utterly repulsive.
Taking a deep breath, the flames around her banner, La Grondement Du Haine, flared up, turning black and crimson.
"I will put an end to his sins," she said seriously. "He is an eyesore."
With that, Joan of Arc Alter leaped down from the bridge.
Whoosh!
She descended like a black meteor, crashing onto the surface of the river, her magical energy allowing her to stand on the water.
Seeing Joan of Arc Alter descend, Gilles de Rais stopped his screaming. His bulging eyes filled with tears of blood and joy.
"Saint! Oh, my Holy Maiden! Are you returning to my embrace? Have you come to be saved?"
"..."
Joan of Arc Alter's forehead was lined with black lines.
What disgusting nonsense was this guy saying?
She already had a Master. A perverted, domineering, annoying Master... but a Master nonetheless.
Seriously.
She glanced back up at the bridge, where Ren was smiling at her. Her face flushed again at the memory of the kiss.
It was just that this Master wasn't very proper; he was a pervert. But no matter what, he was much better than this slime-covered lunatic.
She elegantly pointed her black flag directly at the massive, pulsating Sea Demon.
"Gilles de Rais," she announced, her voice ringing clear over the water. "You've gone astray. You are pathetic. Let me, on behalf of the Saint you worship, end your sins here."
"???"
Gilles de Rais was stunned.
Why was the Saint right in front of him, yet she denied being the Saint? Why did she look at him with such disgust?
His madness churned, quickly finding a logic that suited him.
"That's it... The Saint must have been brainwashed by that man! Her mind has been clouded!"
Gilles de Rais found an excellent reason for himself.
His lips curled into a grin that split his face.
"In that case, Saint! I will free you! I will peel away the corruption and turn you back into that pure Saint!!!"
Whoosh!!!
The Sea Demon's tentacles, thick as tree trunks and covered in suckers, ripped through the air. They slammed towards Joan of Arc Alter without a word, aiming to crush and capture.
Joan of Arc Alter's eyes narrowed slightly.
"It seems he was beyond saving. Just a monster now."
She gripped her standard.
"Then I'll burn you to ashes! Le Grondement de la Haine!"
BOOM!!!
Joan of Arc Alter swung her banner.
Instantly, a fierce, purgatorial flame erupted. It wasn't normal fire; it was the fire of hatred, black and red, consuming the water and the tentacles alike. The smell of burning calamari filled the air of Fuyuki City.
Up on the bridge.
"Ren-nii-chan, is that older sister also a Servant?"
Illya asked curiously, her red eyes sparkling as she watched Joan of Arc Alter displaying great power.
Although Jalter didn't seem as overwhelmingly powerful as Ria—who was currently fighting three Servants and an army of ten thousand inside a Reality Marble—the fire was undeniably cool.
Ren rubbed Illya's little head.
"Yes. She is an Avenger. If Illya wants an Illya-Servant in the future, you can tell Big Brother."
"Eh? I can too? Can I have a Bear-Servant?"
"Of course. Anything for Illya."
"Master... can you summon Heroic Spirits at will?"
Leysritt, the maid standing guard with her halberd, was astonished.
She had learned about Servants and Heroic Spirits from the Einzbern databanks. The Third Magic was about summoning souls, but she had never heard of anyone being able to summon Heroic Spirits at will, without a catalyst or a ritual.
Irisviel, holding Ren's arm affectionately, leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm not surprised by anything my dear can do. He is special."
"…Indeed."
Leysritt looked at Ren, then at the burning river. She suddenly understood.
After all, he was their Master. Common sense did not apply to him.
Ren didn't know whether to be happy or not, given how blindly confident they were in him.
He glanced at the system interface. Seeing that the battle on Ria's side within the Reality Marble was nearing its climax, he tapped the air.
[System: Live Broadcast Resumed.]
The black screen across the multiverse flickered back to life.
[Tsunade: What happened just now? Why did the screen go black?]
[Ren: Nothing. Just a technical glitch.]
[Silver Wolf: Tsk, technical glitch my ass. Something definitely happened that he's not telling. Did you do something R-18, Admin?]
[Erza: It seems like another figure has joined the battle down there. Is that fire magic?]
Although only a pixelated image of Joan of Arc Alter fighting the sea monster could be seen in the corner, the main focus shifted back to the Reality Marble.
Inside the Ionioi Hetairoi—the endless desert of Iskandar's army.
[Artoria: Ren, Master... this Berserker feels familiar.]
[Stella: Uh, can you still chat during a battle? Isn't that a bit too childish?]
[Bronya: This battle was probably just a game for Ren from the start. He is multitasking.]
Ria, who was fending off simultaneous attacks from Lancer, Rider, and the shadow-clad Berserker, fixed her gaze on the Black Knight.
Despite being enveloped in black mist and roaring madness, there was still a sense of familiarity in his swordplay. The way he moved... it mirrored the knights of the Round Table.
[Ren: Heh, he is indeed someone you know, Ria. That is Lancelot du Lac.]
"Lancelot!!!"
Ria's eyes widened in the middle of the battlefield. Her sword wavered.
The Knight of the Lake? Her most trusted companion? The one who fell into madness because of her?
"Ria, don't get excited. Listen to me."
Ren's voice in her ear was calm, grounding her.
"The history of Great Britain has already changed. This Lancelot is from a timeline that no longer exists for you. He doesn't recognize you, and he doesn't carry the burden of your fall."
"..."
That's right.
History and everything had been changed by Ren. She was no longer the King who failed her country. Great Britain would continue in her new timeline, just without the martyr Artoria.
This Berserker was just a ghost of a past that had been overwritten.
"Hmph…"
Ria understood. Her hesitation vanished, replaced by resolve.
She only needed to secure victory for her Master. That was her new duty.
Her emerald eyes narrowed slightly, focusing on the Black Knight.
"In that case... let everything end here. I will free you from your madness, old friend."
She gripped Excalibur with both hands. The invisible wind barrier dissolved, revealing the golden blade.
"Mana Release."
BOOM!!!
A terrifying surge of golden mana erupted from Ria's body, blowing away the surrounding soldiers of Iskandar's army like sand in a hurricane.
Crack!
Iskandar looked up at the sky of his own Reality Marble, his eyes shrinking in disbelief.
"The Reality Marble… the sky is cracking open!"
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