Chapter 29

The citizens of Orléans were desperate for hope. Rumors that the saintess was on her way to Chinon to meet the Dauphin had only heightened that hope, and the stories of how she had met the Dauphin, won the recognition of the nobles, and finally made her way to Orléans filled them with excitement.

At last, they came face-to-face with the saintess, and she did not disappoint.

Jeanne d’Arc rode into Orléans without the slightest sway in the saddle. Her armor gleamed. It bore no ornamentation whatsoever, armor made purely for battle. There was a sense of conviction and resolve about her. The religious banner in her hand fluttered in the wind.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Look at that fearlessness. God is with her!”

“She must have fought her way through countless battlefields…”

With every step Jeanne took, with every breath she drew, the hearts of the people surged. Amid their reverence and praise, she remained perfectly composed.

She was tall, taller than most men. Her firm posture and unwavering bearing, difficult to believe in someone so young, seemed like an undeniable sign from God.

At this historic moment, the people waited for the saintess’s first words. A tense anticipation hung in the air, as though she might prophesy their very future.

“Excuse me.”

Ah, at last, she speaks.

Everyone turned their attention to her.

“Where is the church?”

“……”

With that single question, the people understood just how devout the saintess truly was.

***

We were welcomed by everyone when we arrived with the supplies.

Count Dunois, with whom we had exchanged letters and coordinated our plans to enter Orléans, was someone we were only able to meet once we were inside the fortress.

“Duke of Alençon. I can’t even remember how many years it’s been.”

“Haha, it’s been so long I nearly forgot your face myself!”

Count Dunois warmly welcomed Alençon. He smiled gently as they renewed their acquaintance, and only after he had finished exchanging greetings with all the knights did he finally walk over to us.

“Are you the holy ones I’ve heard so much about?”

His tone was stiff.

“Please call me Jeanne la Pucelle.”

“I’m Maxime Blanche.”

“…I am a man of steadfast faith, but I am not one to be swayed by rumors like some ignorant commoner. Do not preach faith to me. Before you speak of grace, you must first prove yourselves.”

Distrust and wariness were evident in his tone and gaze. He was cordial toward those of established birth, but extremely guarded around anyone he deemed to be of dubious origins.

“You may say that because you don’t know what kind of man he is, but the saint has proven his blessing by doing the work of a hundred men all by himself! And that’s not all—”

“Baron de Rais, enough of this disgraceful behavior. I believe only what I see with my own eyes.”

Dunois, who had been fighting the English all this time, was not particularly cooperative with us.

Apparently, being treated like a saint wasn’t going to make everything easy. Even if it amounted to little for now, I would have to start by building a cooperative relationship with him.

“You don’t have to regard me as a saint. Just think of me as a fellow comrade working alongside you for France.”

I openly extended my hand to Dunois. Everyone was watching. The hand reached out almost as if to test him, but the count stared at my face rather than the offered hand.

“……”

With the situation growing awkward, he reluctantly took my hand.

“What’s the plan from here? We’ve solved the supply problem for the moment, but the longer this drags on, the worse it becomes for us.”

“…Are you suggesting we open the gates and attack?”

“Yes. If we want to break this stalemate, we need to strike first.”

The siege remained firmly in place, and the enemy continued tightening its grip from the outside.

The occasional artillery fire brazenly kept up the pressure on us.

“No. We don’t have enough men to break through the English encirclement.”

“What?”

“Hold on, Count Dunois. Surely you don’t intend to sit here waiting for the enemy and fight this out as a siege?”

“That’s not what I mean. We’ll go on the offensive when the time is right. For now, thorough preparation comes first.

We’ve already suffered several defeats. If we collapse again, do you have any idea how far morale will fall? Are you confident you can bear responsibility for that?”

“I will.”

Jeanne d’Arc stepped forward.

“I’ll lead the soldiers from the vanguard. No matter how many enemies stand before us, I am confident I can keep advancing until the very end.”

“Oh…”

Her confidence seemed to leave a favorable impression on the knights. Dunois, however, let out a deep sigh as he faced her.

“…Haa. I have no need for such a reckless plan.”

“Dunois, reconsider. I also believe we should launch an offensive before we lose any more time.”

“In a siege, the side repelling the attack holds the advantage. Unless we have a clear opportunity to strike, we are better off strengthening our defenses.

I will hear no further objections. We will launch our offensive once our preparations are complete. Do not forget that I am the one in command here.”

Passive allies on the inside and an enemy tightening the noose from the outside. To me, Dunois looked like a man hell-bent on getting himself killed.

The count’s attitude struck me as recklessness bordering on self-destruction. The fact that I couldn’t understand why he could afford to take his time only made me more uneasy.

“Forgive me, Count, but we are by no means lacking in combat strength even now.

If war were as predictable as the sun rising in the sky, all we would have to do is judge by the calculated specifications and act according to doctrine. Victory would simply go to whichever side adhered more faithfully to that doctrine.

But as you well know, battle always unfolds amid unpredictable friction and chaos.”

“…I didn’t realize you were versed in the art of war. Your words sound impressive, but I see little to support them.

I have been fighting offensive campaigns for the past four years. Do not presume to lecture me on actual combat.”

“No basis? We have a saint who can dominate the battlefield.”

“Enough of this nonsense! If you continue like this, I will consider you a charlatan.”

The more I pressed for an offensive, the more openly Count Dunois began treating me as a nuisance.

Whenever the Duke of Alençon spoke, Dunois had little choice but to hear him out, but he made it clear that the final decision would always rest with him.

***

The meeting may have ended, but that didn’t mean I could simply sit around doing nothing.

I took up a hammer and made my way through Orléans with the technical unit.

“Let’s repair the damaged roads and fix the soldiers’ equipment. If we have time to spare, we’ll repair the damaged houses as well.”

Most of our work involved patching up places damaged by artillery fire. Signs of indiscriminate bombardment could be seen throughout the city.

When word spread that the saint himself was doing manual labor, the residents of Orléans came out in droves to watch.

The technical unit was an impressive sight as its members divided up their roles and went to work. Streets that had looked almost like ruins began to come alive again.

Repairing the city wasn’t a matter of efficiency.

People are affected by their surroundings. Remain in darkness for too long, and the spirit gradually sinks. Step into a place bathed in warm light, and the mind begins to clear again.

We had to become a source of hope for these people. They needed to believe that with the saint and the maiden at their side, they could overcome any hardship.

Morale directly affects actual combat strength. One major reason France had suffered repeated defeats in the early stages of the Hundred Years’ War despite not lacking military strength was the deterioration of precisely this aspect.

“The saintess is with us!”

“She touched my child with her own gentle hands. That means she blessed him, doesn’t it?”

Jeanne personally distributed food to the people in the streets of Orléans.

She also dipped into the military funds to distribute pay to the garrison soldiers who had fought so hard until now. Their morale soared through the roof.

I hadn’t told her to do any of it. She had decided on her own to reach out and help the people.

I raised our combat strength through calculated measures. Jeanne, on the other hand, raised the morale of Orléans without making any calculations at all.

“We await the day we can fight alongside the saintess.”

The eyes of the defenders, exhausted by the long siege, regained some of their spark. A faint glimmer of life returned to their once-gloomy gazes.

“Thank you for protecting us. Watching you work tirelessly every single day, Saint… made me realize just how idle I’ve been all this time.”

A young man who had lost his family offered me his thanks. Sometimes, things we do without even thinking can leave a profound impression on others.

“I won’t give up on this child. I’ll take up arms like the men and resist to the very end.”

A widow who had lost her husband came forward, cradling her swollen belly.

Through all this, I came to a few realizations.

Even a reputation built on lies could stir people’s spirits once it gained momentum. In the short time since our arrival, Orléans had steeled itself mentally.

“Salvation… I’ve realized that the path you walk is the path to salvation…! I’ll go persuade our comrades who have yet to open their eyes!”

…Gilles de Rais suddenly blurted that out and vanished without a trace. I had to chase after him before his ridiculous preaching could spread.

***

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had grown attached to the people of Orléans during our time here.

“I want to speak with the English one last time. …I know it’s probably futile, but I want to prevent unnecessary bloodshed however I can.

I’ve been scouting the area whenever I had the chance, and there’s a small outlying fort called Bellecroix on the other side of the destroyed bridge. If we call out from there, we should be able to speak with them without starting a conflict.”

“…I’ll allow it if you promise to take a Nest Keeper with you.”

I didn’t believe a war could be prevented through dialogue. Even so, I wanted to respect her wishes.

Accompanied by a small force capable of handling a skirmish, including soldiers, a Nest Keeper, Pierre, and Agathe, we headed for the destroyed bridge over the Loire.

We were thoroughly prepared, but without a boat to cross the river, the chances of a battle breaking out were low.

“I want to speak with you!”

Jeanne d’Arc shouted. Her voice carried all the way to the opposite bank. As it happened, a sentry was standing watch at the fort.

It wasn’t a sturdy permanent fortification but a temporary outpost of earth and timber built for the conflict.

“My name is Jeanne la Pucelle, the saintess who has come to save France! I have come to prevent the terrible future that awaits us and to find common ground!”

Her cry echoed in vain.

The men on the other side muttered among themselves, then gradually began to jeer.

“Please call your commander! I wish to speak with him!”

“She wants us to call the commander! The Armagnac whore is here!”

The soldiers mimicked Jeanne’s manner of speaking as they hurled crude taunts at her.

“We are not weak. You will not be able to withstand us. But violence will leave scars on everyone, and I have come here to prevent that!”

“The holy whore is trembling in fear!”

The mockery and jeering went on for quite some time.

Amid the taunts, a man dressed in expensive clothes, apparently having heard the commotion, poked his head out from the fort.

“I am the commander of this fort. What business brings a witch like you here?”

Jeanne made one last attempt to reason with him, clinging to what little hope remained.

Unfortunately, the other side had never intended to talk in the first place.

“Enough! You’re nothing but a cow, you bitch! If I see you again on the battlefield, I’ll throw you into the kind of furnace you belong in and burn you alive!”

He mocked her to win over his soldiers and raise their morale.

“Bwahahaha! That’s our commander!”

Jeanne fell silent for a moment. The cheers around him rang out even louder.

At that moment, any possibility of dialogue vanished completely.

Jeanne herself remained unfazed despite all the insults thrown at her, but I was the one who could no longer tolerate their relentless mockery.

“Agathe.”

“Yeah.”

Agathe raised the Thunder Falcon. A brief moment to aim, then she fired.

The arrow streaked across the gap in the broken bridge at tremendous speed.

Fwoosh—thunk.

The arrow lodged itself in his head.

“A-Aaaagh!?”

The garrison commander who had called her a cow collapsed and rolled across the ground.

“…I missed a little. Sorry…”

“Even if it didn’t kill him, it looks like he’s definitely lost his sight. …Let’s head back.”

I turned my attention away from the enemy and found Jeanne crying.

“…How many more people will have to bleed?”

“…….”

We quietly patted her on the back.