No Spies Here-Let's Hear Some French Jokes.

The Shi Niang beside her also walked over, arms crossed, looking coldly at Mo Wang, her tone carrying a hint of dissatisfaction. "Mr. Mo Wang, your behavior is indeed somewhat inappropriate. As a Master, you should always maintain etiquette and manners, instead of making such gestures towards your Servant."

"Oh dear, it was just a hug, wasn't it? That's perfectly normal in France, isn't it, Miss Joan of Arc?"

At this moment, Mo Wang spoke to Joan of Arc beside him.

"Aha."

Joan of Arc of Arc was at a loss for words.

Although hugging is normal in France, her inner voice told her that Mo Wang definitely didn't have good intentions.

"Ahem, Mr. Mo Wang, what should we do next, rather than deal with this matter?"

After deciding to join Mo Wang's team, Joan of Arc of Arc quickly adapted to her role.

"Oh, what else can it be done?"

"Of course, we'll go to Marseille first, and then find the French army."

Mo Wang said this at this moment.

Chapter 173 No mole, let's have some France jokes.

"According to the soldiers' intelligence, the nearest French troops should be in La Charité."

"But senior, why are we going to find the France soldiers?"

At this moment, Mashu asked Mo Wang in confusion.

However, Mashu looked puzzled as to why Mo Wang was going to find the France army.

"Of course we're going to find the Marshal, what else could we be going to do?"

At this moment, Mo Wang said matter-of-factly, "I can't possibly go and become cannon fodder for the French army, can I?"

"You mean Gildre? Isn't he the main villain? Why would you go looking for him in the Lisu- France army?"

Hearing Mo Wang's words, Shi Niang also began to have doubts.

What could possibly be the connection between the France army and Gilles?

"Are you idiots? Of course it's because the Marshal of this era is still alive."

Having read the script, Mo Wang knew that Sword Marshal was still alive and well at this point in time. Moreover, he was one of the main commanders who were specifically opposing his future self and the Dragon Witch.

Although the Sword Marshal's strength is only that of an ordinary three-star Servant, in this Singularity where monsters roam everywhere, he is completely insignificant.

But who can blame them when the current Marshal is one of the few combat-ready forces in France today?

In a country where only women and dwarfs would not surrender, Sword Marshal managed to withstand the pressure for more than half a year, which is quite remarkable.

"You wouldn't be thinking of finding Gildre from this era and having him kill your Caster Class self, would you?"

At that moment, Red A immediately saw what Mo Wang was thinking.

Based on his understanding of Mo Wang, this person probably wanted to play out a scenario where his past self and his future self fought each other.

"Wow? I didn't expect you to have improved so much, Red A. Don't you think this kind of script is quite interesting?"

"What a load of rubbish!"

Red A knew that Mo Wang's actions were definitely not for anything good.

How could this pleasure-seeking monster possibly do something so meaningless?

In other words, he had given up on killing his past self. Otherwise, he really suspected that one day he would see Mo Wang summon another version of himself from the past and make the two of them fight each other.

"So, senior, you mean to have that France Marshal deal with your future self?"

Although Mo Wang's words were full of joy, Mashu was able to understand Mo Wang he meant.

"Of course, after all, the only one who knows you best is yourself."

"But that's only half the reason. The other half is that I wanted to find some cannon fodder to deal with those dragons."

Mo Wang continued speaking at this point.

"Cannon fodder?"

Joan of Arc of Arc listened to Mo Wang's words with a hint of embarrassment. After all, those France soldiers had once been her subordinates.

To be used as cannon fodder by Mo Wang like that is really a bit...

"Otherwise what? With the fighting strength of those French troops, I wouldn't even consider using them as cannon fodder."

At this moment, Mo Wang paid no attention to the strange looks from Charlemagne and Joan of Arc beside him, and directly retorted, "What's that saying again? No one can occupy Paris before the France surrender."

"Don't you have any idea how weak your France army is?"

Just mentioning the France army brought a whole host of France jokes to Mo Wang's mind.

Examples include: "The France are invincible because no one can defeat a single France soldier before they surrender." and "If there were Guinness France Record for the fastest time to get 100,000 people to raise their hands simultaneously, the record holder would definitely be the France army."

Jokes like these.

Although most of these jokes originated during World War II, and were mostly created by Britain netizens, the reality is that, since Joan of Arc's death, France generals have indeed become progressively less capable.

Until modern times, France's fighting strength was truly indescribable; to sum it up, they couldn't beat anyone, no matter who they were fighting.

He never even hit that relative who had always been at odds with him.

If France had ever truly risen to prominence even once, the practice of criticizing France wouldn't have become a globally popular activity in the future.

Joan of Arc and Charlemagne were both angry at Mo Wang's words.

However, for a moment, I didn't know how to refute Mo Wang.

"But even so, we can't use them as cannon fodder, can we?"

At this moment, Joan of Arc of Arc couldn't help but say something.

"Don't worry, young lady. Even as cannon fodder, you can't generalize between cannon fodder."

"As someone I 'Mo Wang, I'll at least be of a higher rank, so don't worry."

"Is this something we can trust?"

At this moment, Joan of Arc of Arc had a bad feeling, as if joining this group was like entering a bottomless abyss.

Although we don't know what Mo Wang is trying to do, there seems to be no other way at the moment, so we can only follow Mo Wang and the others all the way to the dark.

Meanwhile, in La Charité.

At this moment, the general defending the city was looking at the burning city in front of him with a look of despair.

The scene before him clearly told him that they were finished.

"Why, why did we have to suffer such terrible things!"

In the city, an unimaginably enormous dragon was spewing flames.

Meanwhile, the flying dragons circling high in the sky, like the claws of a demon, relentlessly attacked the humans below.

The saint, once regarded as a hero by the France people, was now looking down at the city with a chilling, maniacal laugh on her face.

"Marshal, we should retreat immediately! We are no match for that witch!"

At this moment, the soldiers under his command hurriedly spoke to Sword Marshal, who was in the city.

As the current commander of the France army, Sword Marshal attempts to confront the Dragon Witch in this city.

However, Sword Marshal realized that he had miscalculated greatly.

Joan of Arc of Arc, now transformed into a vengeful spirit, is no longer a force that humans can contend with.

Especially the giant dragon at her feet, which was simply a product of mythology.

Fafnir, in Norse mythology, is based on a dwarf who transformed into a dragon to guard treasure, and was eventually killed by Sigfried.

A simple life story does not mean weakness. As a true pure-blooded Dragon Kind, it has a massive size that Wyvern do not possess, as well as a poisonous dragon breath that Wyvern do not possess, and a real sense of awe.

Without a doubt, Servant may just be phantoms constructed of magic, but this dragon is real.

Even most Servant cannot harm a true dragon, let alone these ordinary soldiers.

"Joan of Arc, have you truly betrayed this country?"

At that moment, Gilles took a deep look at the girl standing on the giant dragon's head.

As Saber Class summoned, he was very clear about what kind of person he would become in the future.

But he never imagined that Joan of Joan of Arc, the only light in his heart, would one day turn into such a person and even come to Destruction France.

This blow to Sword Marshal was even more despairing than the city before him.

"Marshal!"

The soldiers urged Gilles on.

If they don't leave soon, they might all be wiped out here.

"Wait a little longer! Please, there are still people who haven't been evacuated from here."

At this moment, Sword Marshal spoke to the soldiers beside him as if begging, and then he drew his sword from his waist and charged towards the flying dragon not far away.

Sword Marshal's steps were heavy yet resolute, his figure appearing exceptionally lonely amidst the burning city. The roars of flying dragons echoed from all directions, flames and thick smoke obscuring the sky, as if the end of the world had arrived. In the streets, civilians fled in terror, their cries and screams mingling to create a hellish scene.

"Quick! Run that way! Don't stop!"

Sword Marshal Jian brandished his sword, pointing to a narrow alleyway yet to be engulfed by flames, and loudly directed the panicked crowd. His voice was hoarse yet powerful, as if in this moment of despair, it had become the only pillar of support.

However, the dragons were far faster than humans. Several dragons swooped down from low altitude, their jaws wide open, their sharp claws aimed directly at the fleeing civilians. Sword Marshal's eyes narrowed, and he suddenly exerted force with his feet, his body shooting out like an arrow.

"Get out of my way!"

He roared, and the blade in his hand drew a silver arc, precisely slashing at the neck of a dragon. The dragon's screams ceased abruptly, and its massive body crashed heavily to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Sword Marshal didn't stop; his movements were fluid and effortless, as if he and his sword had become one. A second dragon attacked from the side, and he swiftly dodged, his blade flashing upwards to pierce the dragon's abdomen. Hot dragon blood splattered onto his armor, making a sizzling sound, but he paid no heed, turning to face the third dragon.

"Run! Don't look back!"

As he fought, he shouted to the civilians behind him. His voice carried an undeniable authority, as if he were the only Order in this chaotic battlefield.

However, there were simply too many dragons. Despite Sword Marshal's best efforts, countless dragons still circled in the air, ready to swoop down at any moment. His strength gradually waned, and his breathing became rapid. Sweat streamed down his forehead, soaking his clothes, but he still did not back down.

"Not enough... not enough!"

He gritted his teeth and swung his sword again, cleaving a dragon that tried to ambush him in two. However, another dragon seized the opportunity to attack from behind, its sharp claws tearing through his shoulder armor, instantly staining his shoulder with blood.

Sword Marshal groaned and staggered, but he quickly regained his balance. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to ignore the pain and continue fighting. He knew he couldn't fall, at least not now.

"For France..."

He murmured to himself, as if encouraging himself. His gaze grew more resolute, and he swung his sword once more.

Just then, a gigantic dragon swooped down from the sky, heading straight for a group of civilians who hadn't yet escaped far. Sword Marshal's pupils constricted, and he suddenly exerted force with his feet, shooting forward like a cannonball. His sword flashed through the air, slashing directly at the dragon's wings.

"Stop right there!"

His roar was filled with boundless rage and determination. The dragon's wings were severed, and its massive body lost its balance, crashing heavily to the ground. However, the Sword Marshal had also exhausted his last bit of strength from this attack, kneeling on one knee, panting heavily.

"Marshal!"

The soldiers in the distance gasped in surprise at the sight. They tried to rush over to help, but were blocked by even more flying dragons.

Sword Marshal raised his head, looking at the flock of flying dragons still circling in the sky, a bitter smile appearing on his lips. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. But even so, he didn't give up.

"At least... one more person could be saved..."

He struggled to his feet, raising his sword once more. However, his arm began to tremble, and his vision blurred.

Ultimately, Sword Marshal's strength was still too weak.

Faced with this endless enemy, he had used up his last bit of strength.

Just when he was almost in despair, a familiar voice suddenly came from behind him.

"Gilles, you've done a great job."

Sword Marshal paused for a moment, then slowly turned around. Before him stood a young woman clad in white armor. She held a flag in her hand, her gaze gentle yet resolute.

"Joan of Arc..."

Sword Marshal's voice trembled slightly, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.