Type-Moon Crown Master

"Naturally. Go bring our Bishop here," Jeanne said with an unnatural blush on her face, a wicked smile gracing her lips as she commanded Gilles.

"Wh-what, where is this? Who are you, what do you want from me?!"

A short while later, an old man dressed in clerical attire was brought by Gilles. However, he seemed unaware of his situation, shouting warnings at Gilles.

"Isn't this Bishop Pierre Cauchon? I've been looking forward to seeing you again!"

A smile as pure as a child's bloomed on Jeanne's face. The next moment, Pierre, who had been shouting, widened his eyes as if he had seen a ghost!

"You… you're Jeanne? Impossible, this is absurd! You're dead! I saw it with my own eyes, there's no mistake!"

"Yes, I am Jeanne, the witch you sent to the stake three days ago. I haven't forgotten your despicable face for a single day!" Jeanne sneered, a malicious smile playing on her lips as she looked at the disbelieving Bishop, an indescribable pleasure filling her heart.

"This… this must be a dream… yes, a nightmare!" His eyes filled with disbelief, Pierre clutched his head and trembled uncontrollably.

"Gilles…"

Without Jeanne needing to explain, Gilles understood immediately. His long, sharp claws grabbed a piece of flesh on Pierre's body and tore a chunk off.

"Ahhhhhh!!!"

The sudden, excruciating pain sent Pierre rolling on the ground. Only now did he finally realize this was not a dream but reality.

"What do you plan to do next? My dear clerical Bishop?" Jeanne asked with a light laugh, her voice full of mockery.

"Jeanne, whom you declared a heretic, stands before you now. Aren't you going to grip your cross and pray to God for punishment upon me? Now, the evil Jeanne d'Arc stands before you. Don't you need to insult, mock, and trample me? Just like you did to me before, come on! Come on! Come on!"

Growing more agitated, Jeanne twisted her face and crouched before him like a demon, preying on his fragile nerves.

"Spare… spare my life! I'll do anything… please, just spare my life and I'll do anything!"

Tears and snot streamed down Pierre's ugly face as he knelt on the ground, desperately begging Black Saber for mercy.

"What did you just say?" Black Saber asked, forcing back a laugh as if she had heard the greatest joke.

"You want me to spare you? Are you kidding me? This is too funny, I'm about to cry from laughing."

"When you tied me up, mocked me, trampled on me, and burned me to death like an ant, did you ever think of sparing me?"

A hoarse, trembling laugh escaped Black Saber's throat, a sound that seemed to come from the deepest pits of hell, carrying infinite rage and the burning hatred of revenge. She raised her banner, once a symbol of glory and holiness, now stained with black blood, and taunted the paralyzed Bishop.

"Tell me, what is darker than the color of despair?"

"Please… please, let me go! I'll really do anything!"

His humble plea did not earn Black Jeanne's pity; instead, she pierced his shoulder with her banner.

"Ahhhhh!!!"

A pig-like scream of agony erupted from Pierre's mouth. The intense pain caused him to curl up and writhe on the ground.

"Why are there tears in my eyes? I should be happy, shouldn't I?"

For some reason, seeing him in such agony, Black Jeanne should have felt pleasure and exhilaration. Yet, a deep sadness filled her heart.

Shaking her head, she cast aside the unpleasant emotion and aimed her banner at Pierre once more.