Chapter 2

Domrémy in the region of Lorraine was a rural village. But being rural did not mean it was completely isolated.

It lay in a politically significant border region, where the powerful Dukes of Burgundy constantly eyed the area with ambition.

As a result, even though Domrémy itself did not take part in the fighting, the threat of war was always pressing in from the surrounding lands.

Maxime first encountered soldiers when he was around ten years old.

“Hey, you backwater peasants. If you don’t want to die, bring out anything that’s worth money.”

The soldiers, men already accustomed to killing, stole several heads of livestock before leaving.

It was the first time armed soldiers had entered the village itself, and from that day on, the villagers lived under the constant shadow of war.

Fortunately, the soldiers never returned after that day, but Maxime could not simply ignore the fear weighing on the children.

He expanded the scale of their games. The activities he had organized over the past five years had become so well known that even neighboring villages had heard of them.

People’s opinion of Maxime was simple. A confident, well-mannered thirteen-year-old.

It was a harsh age. Even ordinary conversation often sounded like a threat.

The people of the fifteenth century, accustomed to speaking in rough, abrasive tones, found themselves impressed by someone who spoke with the courtesy of the twenty-first century.

It was much like how someone from a rough rural town might think people from Seoul spoke remarkably politely.

“My, it’s been a while.”

“Hello.”

“You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you. Back then you were always carrying those strange things around, so I could barely even see your face.”

“I was just a kid back then. I’m thirteen now. Adulthood isn’t that far away.”

Maxime had no intention of chatting with the woman for long.

The reason she had approached him seemed suspicious.

“You’re so mature, Maxime. You’ll probably get married early, won’t you? I was worried my niece might end up marrying some good-for-nothing, but she’d be absolutely perfect with you.”

“…I’m not old enough to be thinking about marriage, am I? I’d like to take my time before making a decision like that.”

“Oh, there’s nothing to think about. You and my niece would make the perfect couple.”

She relentlessly cornered him with the completely unexpected topic of marriage.

For the record, the niece she was talking about was only six years old. She was nowhere near the age to be worrying about marriage.

…Maxime finally managed to shake the persistent woman off.

“If you ever change your mind, let me know.”

Calling her shameless didn’t even begin to cover it. He couldn’t imagine having the nerve to push for what you wanted so brazenly.

Since ending up in the Middle Ages, there had been more than a few moments when he felt his own sense of morality beginning to crack.

Sometimes he even caught himself thinking that it might be easier to become as morally flexible as the people around him.

***

“Forward stone cairn. Target at standard range.”

“Fire!”

“Direct hit! The vile English have been annihilated!”

“Excellent aim! Right on the calculated solution!”

“I watched the children, utterly absorbed in their mock battles, with a blank expression.

I started these games to help them forget about war… not to make them so obsessed that they end up marching off to a real battlefield.

When the children asked me how to aim properly, I taught them simple mathematics based on proportional calculations.

Those who performed especially well were awarded rank insignias.

It was essentially a competitive ranking system, much like the tiers in modern games.

You could argue that I had only myself to blame, but my goal had never been to teach warfare.

I wanted to educate them.

It was an age when opportunities to learn were almost nonexistent. I wasn’t a trained educator, so the best I could do was weave learning into play to spark their curiosity.

To demonstrate that what they learned had practical value, I improved the trebuchet’s accuracy.

By calculating coordinates, distance, and firing angle, they could make remarkably precise shots.

I had never expected them to move with the discipline of a special operations unit.

“…All right. Time to pray.”

“Yes, Commander!”

I folded my hands in prayer. The children closed their eyes as well.

The games often became so exciting that they got carried away, so I regularly scheduled prayer breaks to calm everyone down.

Ironically, I myself wasn’t religious.

An atheist by nature, I had somehow gained the reputation of being a deeply devout believer.

Whenever people saw groups of children voluntarily gathering beneath a tree to pray even without being told, it was enough to warm the heart of even the most hard-nosed adult.

On top of that, I was already doing the work of more than two grown men at the blacksmith’s shop.

Little by little, my presence within the village continued to grow.

“I asked Father at the church. He said that if I go off to war at fifteen, I could be knighted after I turn twenty.”

As soon as the prayer ended, one of my friends my own age brought up war.

It was Pierre d’Arc.

Sometimes I thought the boy had a death wish.

“I know you want to become a hero, but there are ways to help in a war without picking up a sword.”

I wanted Pierre to give up his dream.

“What are you talking about? If you want to help in a war, you have to fight! Have you forgotten the terrible massacre in Paris during the civil war? An honorable knight doesn’t run from battle.”

There was no getting through to him.

Pierre’s idea of war was fundamentally different from mine.

When I thought of war, danger and brutality came to mind first.

Pierre thought first of the honor it could bring.

“So when’s the next battle? Maybe some wild beast will show up if nothing else.”

“The next battle? I’m getting older. I think it’s about time I stopped these games and focused on the blacksmith’s shop.”

“What?”

Pierre grabbed me by the sleeve.

“You can’t quit! Who else is going to put all this together like you do?”

“Everyone already knows the safety rules. They can have fun on their own as long as I lend them the trebuchet.”

“They only behave because you’re here! Without you they’re nothing but animals! Did you already forget what happened when you stepped away for a minute? They smashed Uncle Tris’s fence!”

“Then why don’t you keep them under control instead of me? The villagers tolerate it now because we’re still kids, but once we’re adults, people won’t look kindly on us if we’re still playing games.”

“Since when did you start worrying about what other people think?”

“The only reason you’ve been able to play without a care all this time is because I’ve been worrying about those things for you.”

I got to my feet.

“All right, everyone. That’s enough for today. Head straight home. Don’t wander off anywhere.”

After hearing the children’s replies, I started down the hill.

“Wait up… Are you really serious about quitting?”

Pierre hurried after me.

He always talked about playing together every day, but whenever the blacksmith’s shop needed an extra pair of hands, he would help without asking for anything in return.

“You call this just a game, but I don’t. This is training that’s as close to the real thing as we can get. It’s preparation for the future.”

“Preparation for the future, huh… Didn’t your father tell you to start helping with the sheep? Once you begin working for real, you won’t have time for this kind of training.”

“I’m going to quit that. Once I’m knighted someday, my father will understand.”

“…After all the beatings you’ve taken over this, I don’t know whether to call you determined or just stubborn.”

By the time we finished talking, we had arrived at the blacksmith’s shop.It stood a short distance away from the rest of the village.

The rhythmic sound of hammering echoed through the air.

Most people thought it was unbearably loud, but to me, the ringing of hammer on anvil was as peaceful as the sound of pages turning in a library.

“Maxime, you’re back?”

My mother greeted me warmly.

My youngest sister reacted as well.

“Mmm… Big bwother…”

The family was sharing a bowl of peas.

I had apparently come back just in time for their break. As always, when my father was due for a rest, my mother would bring everyone something to eat.

“Pierre, where’s Jeannette?”

“No idea. She’s probably learning shepherding in my place.”

“Shepherding? If Big Sister’s doing it, I want to do it too.”

“Absolutely not.”

I cut in immediately.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous shepherding is? Herding bad-tempered sheep is hard enough, and you also have to deal with wild animals that come after the flock.”

“But Sister’s doing it.”

“Jeanne is stronger and smarter than you are. Besides, it’s her family’s work. There’s no reason for you to force your way into it.”

“That’s so mean. I just want to stay with her.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m saying no.”

“Brother, if you only use words with her, she’ll end up spoiled.”

Coat scolded Agathe for talking back.

He even took away the peas she had been eating.

“Hey! I was eating those!”

“Don’t eat with both hands. Have some manners.”

The younger siblings immediately started bickering.

Thanks to my early lessons, Coat had become unusually strict about etiquette.

Just as I was about to step in and calm them down, I heard someone outside.

Speak of the devil.

Jeanne had appeared beyond the window.

The moment Agathe spotted her, she dropped what she was holding and dashed outside.

“Big sister!”

She threw herself into Jeanne’s arms.Caught off guard by the sudden embrace, Jeanne’s shoulders gave a slight start.

She was nine years old now.

Compared to when we had first met, she had grown remarkably. She was even taller than my younger brother Coat despite being two years younger.

As soon as she arrived, Jeanne offered a prayer for all of us.

I waited until she finished before holding out a plate of peas.

“Welcome back. Here, have some.”

“Thank you.”

Maybe it was because she ate so little despite being at an age when she should have been growing, but she never refused a light snack.

Whenever I had the chance, I offered her food.

Sometimes I wondered if the reason she’d grown taller than Coat was because I kept feeding her.

My siblings and I spent a lot of time with the d’Arc siblings.

Compared to their household, ours had a much warmer and more relaxed atmosphere, so they often preferred spending time at our place rather than their own.

“Jeanne, is it true you’re helping with the sheep? What was it like? Maxime says I can’t do it. Isn’t he being mean?”

“Agathe, Mom told you not to bother Jeanne so much, remember?”

“Everyone’s always picking on me.”

“It’s okay.”

Jeanne answered quietly.

She forced a smile, but there was a heaviness about her that hadn’t been there before.

Something felt off.

I took a closer look.

The knuckles of her clenched hand were scraped raw.

Dust clung to every corner of her clothes. She’d brushed most of it off, but there was still dirt across her back.

It looked like she’d really started helping with the shepherding.

That was hard labor for a child.

Not only would she be physically exhausted, she’d be mentally drained as well.

Uncle Jacques was a good man, but he wasn’t especially observant.

He probably hadn’t even realized how emotionally worn down his daughter had become.

She spent the day doing a shepherd’s work at this age… and no one seems to think anything of it.

The idea that children could be exploited through household labor simply didn’t exist in this era.

It seemed I was the only one who noticed how much dimmer Jeanne had become.

I let out a quiet sigh and called to her.

“Jeanne. Let me see your hand.”

I wrapped a damp cloth around her injured hand and gently cleaned the cuts.

“It must’ve been hard, doing it for the first time. You worked hard today. Uncle Jacques is a good man, but he can be a little too strict. Just relax and get some rest.”

It was only a few simple words of comfort.

No one else seemed to notice, so I figured I should at least look after her myself.

Jeanne froze.

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t tell what my words meant to her.

Finally, she answered in a voice barely above a whisper,

“…Okay.”

She lowered her head.

And little by little, she began to cry.

“…Sniff… hic…”

She tried to hold back her emotions. The harder she tried, the more her sobs grew.

Did she realize that her desperate effort to keep it together only made her look even more fragile?

She trembled, her eyes brimming with tears. The surroundings fell silent.

Agathe who had been acting spoiled just moments ago quietly wrapped her arms around Jeanne.

Little Jeanne cried easily.

She cried when she prayed, but there were times when she cried simply because she was overwhelmed with sadness.

***

There was only so much time in a day when people could be active.

Once the sun disappeared, you could barely see what was in front of you. Not to mention the danger posed by wild animals that could see perfectly well in the dark.

People always made their way back to shelter before it became too dark.

It was an age when avoiding the night was simply the norm.

For that reason, a visitor arriving late in the evening was frightening for more than one reason.

Either they had come with ill intentions, or they possessed some kind of power that made them unafraid to travel at night.

“I heard there was a famous craftsman nearby, so I came to pay a visit.”

The blacksmith’s workshop fell silent. The visitor paid no mind to the tense reaction.

An armed guard stood calmly at his side.

“Who are you, coming here at this hour?”

“You don’t recognize my face? Well, there’s no need to worry. I didn’t come here looking to cause trouble. Just tell him I came from Neufchâteau.”

Neuchâteau was a village not far from here.

“I’m glad I came.”

The man pointed to one of the decorative pieces displayed inside the workshop.

“I knew the moment I saw the sign out front. It’s the kind of work only someone with true artistic sense could create. You should have more confidence in yourself. I’ve sought out quite a few craftsmen, but yours is by far the finest.”

“…….”

“I’d like to commission a decorative piece for my wife. I’ll make sure you’re well compensated.”

Gent nodded.

“…Son, this visitor is here for you.”