Morning.
"Ah!"
Inside her guest room in Fortress of Millennia, Jeanne d’Arc awoke with a start. The "terrifying" images from her dream once again flooded her mind, causing her eyes to snap wide open in horror.
Normally, Servants don’t need sleep or food.
However, in this Romanian Holy Grail War, Jeanne had been summoned in the form of a "pseudo-Servant," which ant that, although she was technically a Servant, she also possessed a physical body, requiring her to eat and sleep like a human.
Indeed, Jeanne’s Servant body granted her enhanced physical abilities, and while she wouldn’t starve if she didn’t eat, the physical discomfort caused by hunger would still be unbearable for her.
As a side note, although Jeanne herself was the one participating in this Holy Grail War, the young girl she had possessed, Laeticia, could also view the world through Jeanne’s perspective, like watching a movie unfold.
Even if Jeanne fulfilled her mission or died during the Holy Grail War, Laeticia’s body would remain unhard. The Greater Grail would restore her to her original state, based on pre-stored information.
Laeticia’s body, soul, and consciousness would all be perfectly restored, and, depending on the circumstances, she would be forcibly relocated to a safe place, with any injuries she sustained imdiately healed.
Thus, no matter how many fatal wounds Jeanne sustained as Ruler, the young French girl Laeticia would remain unhard... Well, there was one form of damage—Laeticia’s financial losses from this entire ordeal. That was a real cost.
"Why do I keep having these dreams?"
Jeanne had barely slept at all last night. Not only was her sleep shallow, but she had been repeatedly startled awake by nightmares, leaving her feeling extrely unrested.
The dreams were strange and nonsensical—a weak boy calling for help; a small, evil spirit being cruelly erased by a god; a burning Trifas caught in a war between Servants fighting over the Holy Grail; a priest saving all of humanity; a magus who would stop at nothing to reach the Root...
But the most disturbing part was the fleeting glimpse at the end—two paintings, one peaceful and serene, the other... dark and terrifying!
It was a blurry vision of war, a conflict far more brutal than anything Jeanne had witnessed during the Hundred Years’ War between England and France... indeed, thousands of tis more devastating than anything in human history.
The earth burned, life wailed, blood flowed endlessly, and fires raged. Cities, institutions, and civilizations that humanity had built over millennia were being wiped out in a one-sided massacre of unprecedented destruction.
The stars dimd, the sun withered, and the world was consud by darkness...
"Is this a divine revelation? A prophecy of what’s to co? I have no clue... Two paintings, two worlds... What does it all an?"
Jeanne sat up in bed, her back damp with cold sweat. Reaching for her back, she noticed how soaked she had beco.
"There’s definitely sothing strange about this Holy Grail War. Why was I summoned by the Greater Grail? Why was I brought here not as a typical Ruler, but through the convoluted form of a ’pseudo-Servant’...?"
"Is it a coincidence, or is the Greater Grail taking precautions?"
Jeanne, now fully awake, stood and pulled aside the beautifully embroidered curtains. As the first rays of morning sunlight poured into the room, she squinted slightly, deep in thought.
"There’s sothing wrong with this Holy Grail War. Why did the Red faction attack ? Are they hiding sothing that they fear could be exposed by a Ruler’s authority over the Servants...?"
"It’s highly likely that the problem lies with the Red faction."
Jeanne had once been human and still possessed emotions and thoughts. Even though she had been canonized as a saint and was known for her fairness, the Red faction’s attempts to eliminate her had swayed her perception, causing her to lean slightly in favor of the Black faction.
After all, compared to the chaos on the Red side, the Black faction appeared far more "normal." There was a goddess, a king, a dragon-slayer, a great sage, a golem master, and artificial life forms—all summoned in standard Servant classes.
Even though one of them, Selene, seed absurdly strong, Jeanne’s initial impression of her was simply that she was an arrogant, cold ruler—soone Jeanne instinctively disliked. But she couldn’t deny that this behavior still fell within the range of what was considered "normal."
As for the other Black Masters, they were perfectly ordinary by magus standards. Their personalities and thods were typical within the larger magus community, and their participation in the Holy Grail War stemd from the usual desires—personal ambition or the pursuit of the Root.
The Black faction’s leader, Darnic, for instance, had been nothing but courteous toward Jeanne, despite her repeatedly clarifying that she wouldn’t assist either faction. He had even gone so far as to graciously invite her to stay at Fortress of Millennia.
"That must be the Black faction Master, Caules, out there with Berserker Frankenstein... Their relationship doesn’t seem like Master and Servant; they look more like they’re... in love."
From her window, Jeanne spotted the pair, Caules and Berserker, bonding on the castle grounds early in the morning. The genuine, innocent feelings they shared helped ease so of Jeanne’s heavy thoughts.
"Looking at it this way, the problem must all lie with the Red faction..."
Knock, knock.
"Lady Ruler, breakfast is ready."
The voice of a homunculus maid called from the door, and shortly after, the door opened as a few maids pushed a cart with breakfast and toiletries into the room. Upon seeing Jeanne, they imdiately bowed.
"Apologies for the intrusion, Lady Ruler. Please..."
"Aah, there’s no need to be so formal! I can handle it myself," Jeanne quickly waved her hands, declining their intricate noble courtesies and indicating that she could manage on her own.
"Understood, Lady Ruler. Please enjoy your al. We will take our leave."
With another respectful bow, the homunculus maids swiftly and efficiently exited Jeanne’s room.
"Phew..." Jeanne let out a small sigh as she looked at the hot water basin and the white towel hanging from the cart.
"...They’re treating with such hospitality. This is a difficult situation... How will I repay them for this...?"
Before joining this war, Jeanne had been a simple girl from the French countryside. Even after she led an army, her life had remained one of hardship, with little room for luxury. While she had been served before, such treatnt had been rare, and she still wasn’t used to it.
After washing her face with the hot towel and rinsing her mouth, Jeanne glanced at the array of food on the lower tier of the cart and thought to herself.
"I’ll eat first, then investigate. No matter what, I must find out what’s wrong."
...
Knock, knock. The sound of knocking ca again.
Creak.
"Lady Ruler, the clan leader invites you to the castle hall."
"Understood, please lead the way." After finishing her al, Jeanne changed back into her Servant armor and followed the homunculus maid out of her guest room, heading toward the central hall of Fortress of Millennia.
Along the way, Jeanne noticed the homunculi patrolling the castle, as well as the towering warriors summoned by that goddess-turned-Servant.
"These massive warrior Servants, like the golden-armored giant who fought against Red Lancer Karna, must also be part of Black Rider’s army-summoning Noble Phantasm. The sheer number... What a broken ability."
As she finished musing, Jeanne’s gaze shifted to the homunculi. Their lifeless, expressionless faces, devoid of any vitality, made them seem like walking corpses.
"Homunculi... The Black Masters’ alchemical creations. What incredible craftsmanship..."
Jeanne murmured a quiet prayer in her heart, "May they find peace."
She didn’t have the authority to judge or interfere with the Black faction’s actions, nor could she stop them. All she could do was offer a silent prayer for the homunculi.
The homunculi were property of the Yggdmillennia family, born for the sole purpose of helping them win the Holy Grail War. They were nothing more than expendable tools.
The only problem was that these "expendable tools" were created to look sowhat human, which made it easier to stir up so people’s misplaced sense of "kindness."
In reality, though, if you imagine these homunculi as faceless beings—or worse, deford or monstrous—they wouldn’t inspire nearly as many people to want to "save" them, would they?
"Why was that homunculus naked, being carried by Black Rider’s golden-armored soldier?" Jeanne pondered, the pieces falling into place as her A-rank skill, Revelation, kicked in.
Revelation is similar to "Instinct," but while Instinct is a sixth sense for combat, Revelation applies to all matters related to fulfilling a goal (such as choosing the best path during a journey). Since it provides no clear rationale, it’s difficult to explain to others.
Jeanne murmured, "Could that homunculus be special...? Perhaps he awakened self-awareness and resisted his creator’s control...?"
"Ruler, Lady Saint, did you sleep well last night?"
A familiar, cool voice snapped Jeanne out of her thoughts.
Imdiately, the homunculi maids, as well as the combat-type homunculi patrolling the hall, all dropped to their knees in respect as Selene appeared.
Surveying the scene around her, Jeanne sighed inwardly. She still didn’t feel comfortable around Selene. Even if Selene was a goddess, the air of brutal, authoritarian rule that clung to her was far too oppressive.
"Lady Rider, you don’t need to address so formally. Jeanne is fine... Thanks to your hospitality, I slept well."
Jeanne gave a slight nod as she looked at Selene, who was dressed in her regal attire. Jeanne had no intention of interfering with the Black faction’s dealings with homunculi.
While Jeanne was certainly kind, she wasn’t naive. She understood her limitations and recognized the realities of the situation. Not only was she incapable of saving all the homunculi, but taking action would also an forfeiting her neutrality as Ruler.
And if the Black faction decided to turn on her because of that, she might as well head back to the Throne of Heroes right then and there.
"Good... Then, Jeanne, co with . There’s so interesting information I think you’ll find worth knowing."
"According to the Church priest, Shirou Tokisada Amakusa, he seems to be controlling multiple Servants," Selene remarked as they reached the opulent central hall.
...
"Your Majesty, I’ve just received so new information to report," Darnic said, handing a newspaper to Selene upon her arrival in the hall with Jeanne. "The traitor Assassin has arrived in Trifas."
Taking the newspaper, Selene quickly scanned the headline. Bold, red letters printed across the top read: "Jack the Ripper Returns—Serial Killer Strikes Again."
"A traitor? Did Black Assassin betray you?" Jeanne asked.
"Yes," Darnic replied with a nod. "As shaful as it is to admit, Assassin has indeed betrayed us and even killed her own Master, the one who summoned her."
"Assassin Jack the Ripper is still in the Red faction’s stronghold in Sighișoara. It’s dayti, so she’s unlikely to continue her rampage or relocate for now."
Darnic wasn’t concerned about revealing such trivial information.
Now that he had Selene as a trump card, Darnic’s confidence had inflated significantly. He wasn’t as eager to curry favor with Jeanne anymore. If she could be persuaded to their side, that would be ideal; if not, she could be dealt with. His respect was purely habitual.
"Your Majesty, take a look. These are images from one of Assassin Jack the Ripper’s cri scenes," Darnic said, gesturing to the World Chronicle’s projection.
Jeanne frowned deeply. "How could she attack innocent civilians who aren’t even involved in the Holy Grail War?"
"That’s simple," Selene said, folding her arms. "It’s to replenish her mana. After killing her Master, who supplied her with magical energy, Assassin Jack the Ripper needed another way to sustain herself."
Handing Jeanne the newspaper, Selene continued, "Sighișoara is now gripped by fear as news of a serial killer spreads. The victims weren’t just magi; so were tourists. All the bodies were dismbered, and the hearts were carved out. The scenes were horrific."
"For humans, the heart is akin to a Servant’s Spirit Core—it’s the source of life. For Assassin, devouring hearts is likely a way to replenish her mana."
With a wave of her hand, Selene took over control of the World Chronicle from Darnic. After a few quick adjustnts, the projection displayed a small, silver-haired girl with green eyes.
The young girl had multiple scars on her face, but despite that, her expression was one of pure happiness—though her bloodstained lips, currently gnawing on a human heart, painted a much more horrifying picture.
"Jeanne, if you were tasked with dealing with the evil spirit Assassin Jack the Ripper, would you show rcy?" Selene asked casually, glancing over at her.
"Don’t underestimate , Lady Rider."
Jeanne set down the newspaper and spoke coldly, "I lived through war. Even though I’ve been canonized as a saint, I’m no stranger to killing. My hands are just as stained with blood as anyone else’s."
"Fair enough."
Even though Jeanne had been declared a saint, she had indeed co from a background of war. She had even served as a military commander. And unless you were utterly incompetent, no general throughout history had risen without getting their hands bloody.
"Then, let’s go, Jeanne. Our destination: Sighișoara. My task is to eliminate the traitor; yours is to purify the evil spirit."
"If we’re lucky, we might even encounter so of the Red Servants along the way..."
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