The Final Victor Was Decided

Faced with Joan of Arc's fury, Konan could only abandon any hope of avoiding a fight and prepare for battle.

She glanced at Gilgamesh.

"Orochimaru is dead. Why don't you help me?"

"Whether I act depends entirely on my interest," Gilgamesh said, looking intrigued. "But I do want to see what kind of power this Evil Saintess possesses."

Orochimaru's screams had not frightened Gilgamesh away.

He could sense that this power struck directly at the soul.

It was rare and insidious, with the ability to affect the mind.

More importantly, Joan of Arc's personality had changed so drastically that she now resembled him in a certain way. Perhaps he could learn something from her.

So Gilgamesh acted.

Golden light bloomed from the book in his hands. Though he was only one of three personalities, he could still draw on the power of the Divine Realm as long as the other two had no objections.

The light, suffused with a sacred aura, became golden chains. They were neither magic nor tangible weapons, but the manifested faith of the Divine Realm's tens of thousands of citizens.

The instant the chains touched the flames around Joan of Arc, they flared up as violently as oil thrown onto a fire.

Within the Divine Realm, tens of thousands of citizens cried out in pain.

Unbidden memories of every "evil" deed they had ever committed flooded their minds, from the gravest wrongs to the smallest transgressions. Remorse burned through their souls and thoughts.

If this continued, they might not die, but they would likely become genuine "good people," for any hint of "evil" would cause them pain.

"Bizarre, just as I thought." Gilgamesh gave the chains a sharp shake, but it did nothing to the flames.

In a sense, Joan of Arc's power over the mind