Chapter 14

“God, please save France.”

Many people prayed, but God did not answer.

Nearly all of northern France had fallen under English rule.

Paris was no longer the glorious capital. The English had made it one of their strongholds.

England and its ally Burgundy had occupied the region of Reims.

Reims was a place of immense historical importance, as it was where French kings were crowned.

“Please forgive the sins of France.”

“I’ve gone to confession and drunk holy water. Please forgive us now.”

The French believed that their current crisis was punishment for the kingdom’s sins.

In many ways, the royal family had brought this perception upon themselves.

More than any other royal house in Europe, the French monarchy emphasized the divine authority of the crown.

“The king is a sacred figure chosen by God.”

The coronation ceremony itself underscored the special relationship between God and the king.

The moment France began suffering crushing defeats at the hands of foreign powers, those losses were seen not merely as military setbacks but as proof that God’s blessing had come to an end.

“France is finished. I see nothing but ruin ahead!”

“God has abandoned us. The kingdom is nothing more than a condemned man with his arms and legs cut off. All that’s left is to calmly lay our necks on the executioner’s block and await England’s sentence.”

The kingdom had long since lost its capital, the heart of the nation, and without access to Reims, it could not even crown a king in the traditional way.

Like so many kingdoms before it, France was slowly collapsing.

Holy God, forgive our sins and bring an end to this long suffering.

It was Jeanne d’Arc’s prayer.

Throughout her childhood, she prayed for France as it suffered.

Deeply sensitive by nature, she sincerely grieved over the news carried from town to town by traveling criers.

That in itself was remarkable.

Human empathy has its limits.

A person who mourns one death does not necessarily grieve one hundred times more deeply when one hundred people die.

As the number of victims increases, people’s capacity for empathy diminishes.

Imagine that one million people have died. Such overwhelming tragedy can paradoxically feel less emotionally impactful than the death of a single person.

Jeanne was an exception to that rule.

God… it hurts so much. I can barely hold myself together… Why won’t this cruelty ever end?

Her childhood was filled with tears.

France continued to suffer without end.

The pain was so overwhelming that she felt as though she would drown in her own tears.

Then she turned thirteen.

For the first time, she received a revelation from God.

You want me… to save France?

The revelation only tightened the invisible chains around Jeanne.

How could someone like me possibly…

There was never a day when her tears truly dried.

France’s despair showed no sign of ending, and the more she resisted the revelation, the more every Frenchman who died in the war felt like it was her fault.

The burden of guilt continued to grow within her.

Holy God… A young girl like me cannot save France.

Jeanne’s prayers were less a plea for mercy than a desperate cry for God to choose someone else.

No matter how desperately she cried out, the revelation never disappeared.

God’s revelation.

Unrequited love.

The defense of Domrémy.

God’s revelation.

Heartache.

The responsibility of commanding the village’s defense.

God’s revelation.

God’s…

Revelation.

One hardship after another, far too heavy for a young girl to bear.

For Jeanne, the revelation was an inescapable destiny.

Then, one day…

“Vice Captain, the Captain is looking for you.”

“…He’s looking for me?”

Maxime had sent for her.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time.”

Even before he spoke, there was certainty in his eyes.

“Can you hear the voice of God? Do you see angels? Have you received a revelation telling you to save France?”

The person she secretly loved had noticed the burden she carried.

He was the only person in the entire village who had recognized her suffering.

That alone was enough to bring her comfort.

“I’m going to leave Domrémy and save France from the suffering of this war.”

Without the slightest hesitation, he declared a future that he had already accepted as inevitable.

Not just anyone could make such a promise.

This was the man who had already saved Domrémy.

The tangled thoughts in her mind suddenly became clear.

Overcome with joy, Jeanne let out a quiet gasp.

“Ah…”

The girl, consumed by guilt and sorrow, was finally saved.

All I have to do… is help Maxime.

The burden that had once crushed her beneath the weight of an entire nation’s suffering became focused on a single person.

The future saint no longer felt consumed by guilt.

***

The Thunder Falcon was beginning to take shape.

With the frame nearly complete, work on the shields began in earnest.

An apprentice craftsman touring the workshop cried out in amazement.

“Wow… You made all of this by yourself?”

The alloy plates that formed the framework of the nest were lined up in neat rows.

Now that Maxime had reached his full physical maturity, his productivity alone was equivalent to that of ten ordinary workers.

“Ahem. I helped too, you know.”

Coat cleared his throat pointedly.

“Y-Yeah… It’s amazing.”

“That’s right. It isn’t just my brother who’s amazing.”

Coat shamelessly took credit.

He had always been honest about wanting recognition.

That was why he didn’t even care about saving face while boasting to an apprentice.

“Quit pestering the apprentice and bring me the shield.”

“You always pick on me.”

Grumbling under his breath, Coat carried over a set of wooden boards.

Besides the apprentice, there were nine other craftsmen in the workshop observing the production process.

Some were older than Maxime, but as paid trainees, they maintained a respectful attitude.

Maxime began the lesson.

“Once you join the wooden boards to the alloy plates, smooth the surface, and finish the seams, the shield itself is complete.

That would be sufficient for an ordinary shield, but what we’re making is a mobile barricade. It has to be built for its intended purpose.”

To increase its size, Maxime connected three wooden boards together with metal fittings.

“We’ve already prepared the molds needed to cast the alloy plates.”

The most difficult part of making the alloy plates had been designing the cross-shaped viewing slit.

If the opening was too wide, arrows would have a much better chance of getting through.

But if it was made too narrow, the user would struggle to see.

After taking durability into account as well, he had revised the design eight times.

Incidentally, the opening was cross-shaped not for any religious reason, but simply to provide visibility in every direction…up, down, left, and right.

“Today, your task is to carve the mounting grooves on both sides of the shield for the crossbows.

Since everyone’s height is different, the position where the crossbow rests will also vary. That’s why we’ve divided the shields into four standard sizes.

The sample I’ll be demonstrating today is a Size-2 shield, designed for a crossbowman of average height.”

Maxime brought over a Size-2 prototype and traced the groove pattern onto a wooden shield before carving it out according to the outline.

Once the carving was finished, he carefully smoothed and sealed the cut surfaces to prevent wear.

“Now, let’s begin the practical training.”

Maxime and Coat split up, each helping the craftsmen with their hands-on practice.

***

Before anyone realized it, Archbishop Jacques Gelu had already been staying in our village for two weeks.

He had chosen to lodge beside the Sanctuary of Souls.

Every morning and evening, he worshipped there alongside the villagers.

I had expected him to become little more than another mouth to feed, but instead the archbishop had become a welcome source of comfort and peace of mind.

He had even somehow managed to procure wine and bread for celebrating Mass.

The villagers enjoyed his presence so much that I decided to attend one of his sermons myself.

As befitted a high-ranking clergyman, Gelu drew upon his extensive knowledge to present Scripture from a wide variety of perspectives.

Grateful as I was, however, keeping the archbishop around indefinitely was becoming a burden.

I’d better finish the commission while things are still relatively quiet.

The Vatican had commissioned me to create a religious work of art.

There’s no need to overcomplicate it. The simplest ideas often have the greatest impact. I’ll choose something clear and universal, like Heaven and Hell.

The problem was choosing the right material.

Common materials like stone and wood won’t impress the Vatican’s upper ranks. But I can’t exactly afford to use gold or precious gems, either…

Despite having lost much of the people’s trust through countless scandals, the Papacy remained every bit as proud as ever.

If anything, losing that trust had only made the Church more worldly than before.

Unable to maintain its spiritual superiority in the eyes of the masses, it had begun adorning itself like the nobility.

I’ll use an alloy. Metal symbolizes strength, and it’s a material no one would look down on.

By now, I had worked with a wide variety of alloys.

Because of the technological limitations of the era, raw materials contained many impurities, so finding a decent alloy took a long time.

Among the alloys produced through that process, there was one whose performance as a weapon was disappointing but which was easy to work with, making it ideal for fine metalcraft.

I’ll make it about the size of a small box.

Like artifacts from the Silla period, I’ll make it so intricately detailed that you’d need a microscope to truly appreciate it.

I knew how to work metal with extreme precision.

Back when I was a YouTuber, I had recreated Silla-era jewelry, even using tweezers to draw intricate patterns. I had honed meticulous craftsmanship in every possible way.

In the end, I succeeded in creating a work so detailed that it had to be viewed under a microscope. I hadn’t simply made it smaller. Every detail was fully preserved.

With my current body, I might be able to create something even more extraordinary.

I retrieved the alloy I had stored away in the warehouse and brought it to the smithy, where I melted it down.

Once the metal had turned to liquid, I carefully poured a small amount onto the tip of a thin skewer. I planned to build the sculpture by adding the metal little by little.

Metalworking wasn’t just about hammering away. Even with hard, simple materials, there were many different ways to shape them.

An angel and a demon. Comparing the two is a childish cliché, but in an age of faith, there isn’t a more compelling subject.

I envisioned a sculpture in which an angel and a demon were joined as a single body.

They shared the same pair of wings.

Viewed from the demon’s side, the wings appeared sharp and bat-like.

Viewed from the angel’s side, they looked like the broad wings of an eagle.

The illusion worked because the demon had a much larger head, while the angel’s body, including the face, was much smaller. Even though they occupied the exact same wingspan, each gave an entirely different impression. It was a kind of optical illusion.

The sculpture took shape in my mind as though it were a 3D model.

From the angle where the angel was visible, the demon disappeared.

When looking at the demon, the angel could no longer be seen.

If I built it as planned, it would become a sculpture full of hidden reversals.

Now I’m getting ambitious. Maybe I should make it transform, too.

I wasn’t planning anything dramatic. The sculpture itself would remain unchanged. I simply intended to add a moving backdrop.

I’ll make a box to house the sculpture, and when the box is opened, Heaven and Hell will unfold.

I’ll use the mechanical components from the Thunder Falcon here.

I planned to connect a series of strings so that, depending on which direction the box was opened, it would reveal either Heaven and the angel or Hell and the demon.

In other words, a single box would contain both Heaven and Hell.

***

At the appointed place and the appointed time, I invited the archbishop.

We met in a dark, secluded location.

“Have you been well? It’s been quite some time since we last met. I apologize for keeping you waiting so long.”

“Not at all. I know you’ve been busy. More importantly, where is the completed work?”

“Here it is.”

I took out a wooden box. The moment the archbishop saw it, he made no effort to hide his disappointment.

“Please open it.”

“……”

Click.

The wooden box opened.

The metal Heaven caught the light and bloomed with breathtaking brilliance.

“Ah…?”

The archbishop was left speechless.

Like a man who had lost his soul, he stared blankly at the radiant light.

“…What is this?”

“The craftwork you commissioned.”

“…Have you, by any chance, ever seen an angel in your life?”

It was a foolish question.

Under normal circumstances, I would have denied it.

But for someone trying to pull off a deception, it was exactly the question I wanted to hear.

The timing couldn’t be more perfect.

The sun traveled from east to west. I had deliberately chosen a place where the light would arrive at this exact moment.

Sunlight poured over the top of the high stone wall.

“I have received a revelation.”

The brilliant sunlight settled across my face. Having anticipated every detail, I didn’t so much as blink.

A luminous radiance washed over my features.

The sculpture too was bathed in the light, shining even more brilliantly.

It was a truly sacred sight.

The archbishop’s pupils trembled.