Chapter 41

The question of “Do you desire power?” carried a strange weight.

“…I do. With all my heart.”

Knights were made, not born. It was a title earned through effort, not blood.

These days, the privileged had begun pulling up the ladder behind them, and knighthood was sometimes passed down from one generation to the next. Even so, a man of humble birth could still become a knight if he distinguished himself through great deeds.

Any young soldier who roamed the battlefield dreamed at least once of becoming a knight. There was a reason chivalric romances had spread throughout Europe. Knights gave even uneducated commoners the hope that they might turn their lives around.

It would take at least another 170 years, with the appearance of Don Quixote, for that hope to begin losing its luster.

“Take it. I’ll lend it to you.”

Maxime handed the longsword to the soldier.

Something felt strange.

The instant the soldier gripped the longsword, he felt his senses sharpen. It was a phenomenon that could not be explained theoretically.

So he made sense of it in the manner of a medieval man.

This cool yet weighty sensation… The Saint has lent me his power…

He was an ardent devotee of chivalric romances. Back in his hometown, he had even spent an entire month’s wages on a dubious secret manual called The Knight’s Swordsmanship.

The swordsmanship I learned feels so ridiculous and childish now…

The soldier adjusted his stance.

Without even realizing he had been swindled, he forgot the swordsmanship he had diligently practiced and instead envisioned the path his blade should follow according to the sensations flowing through the longsword.

There were three bandits and one soldier. All of them carried melee weapons.

All else being equal, when one person fought several opponents, the side with greater numbers held an overwhelming advantage. Three against one was not simply three minus one. The very nature of the fight changed, placing the outnumbered side at an overwhelming disadvantage.

“You’ve got some nerve stepping forward alone! Die!”

The former deserter swung his axe at the soldier’s head. It was a savage, crude blow.

At that instant, the soldier’s blade flashed.

Clang!

Guided by his newfound senses, the longsword traced its path through the air. Metal crashed violently against metal.

He could even manipulate the recoil of the weapons at will. All three attacked him at once, yet the soldier never lost his composure.

Clang! Clang!

“Ghk!”

There was not a single opening in the soldier’s movements.

In an instant, he cut down one of the bandits.

He stepped inside the path of a sword sweeping toward his waist, slipping past it, then drove his longsword into the bandit on the opposite side.

“Aaargh!”

He twisted his wrist.

Kicking the man away, he ripped the blade free, then headbutted the remaining bandit, who was too close to know what to do.

“Urgh?!”

For the brief instant that the bandit reeled in a daze, the longsword swept cleanly across him.

Thud.

In the blink of an eye, all three bandits were down.

“””…….”””

The priest was speechless with shock for a moment. Even the soldier who had come with them could not find the words to address his comrade, who had just taken down all three bandits by himself.

The most astonished of all was the man himself.

He immediately dropped to his knees.

“Thank you for this blessing. By the grace of God, I never knew such incredible swordsmanship existed…”

His hands trembled so badly that he dropped the sword. After fumbling to pick it back up, he presented the longsword to Maxime.

Watching him, Maxime thought,

Is he some kind of swordsmanship genius? …I got lucky. I probably won’t come across talent like this again.

A fine weapon deserved a worthy owner.

As a craftsman, Maxime was grateful to have found someone so well suited to his creation. There was no guarantee he would ever find another swordsman this exceptional.

I’ll use the longsword as bait and lure him into the knightly order.

His mind was made up.

Maxime took the sword that had just been returned to him and immediately bestowed it upon the soldier.

“I’m putting together a new unit. I need someone like you. Join us.”

“…Th-Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I will never forget the power you have bestowed upon me. I’ll spend the rest of my life repaying this debt…!”

The soldier would never have dared refuse an offer from the Saint. Overwhelmed with emotion, he swore his allegiance.

Maxime tilted his head at the intensity of the man’s reaction.

***

They returned to Orléans.

Compared to when they had first arrived, the city was so full of life that it hardly seemed like the same place. The restoration of its infrastructure and the renewed hope of its people were bleaching away the bloodstained memories of the past.

“Brother, I missed you.”

“…Why are you being so creepy?”

“I thought all you ever did was give me more work, but once you were gone, it was hell. Hurry up and get back to work so I can finally breathe again. I’ve spent the last few weeks doing nothing but cleaning up after those idiots every time they screwed something up… I’ve lost count of how many times I had to stop myself from cracking their skulls open with a hammer.”

“……”

“Oh, and that Gilles de Rais or whatever his name is has been holding some suspicious prayer meetings with Pierre. You approved that, right?”

“……”

“Agathe’s been walking around holding hands with Léo. She claims they’re not together, but I told her she should at least be careful about doing that in front of other people. That woman never listens to a word I say, so you’ll probably have to lecture her yourself.”

“Léo… Should I kill him…?”

“Oh, and Count Dunois finally noticed his dog was pregnant. Not that he could’ve missed it with her belly getting that big. He was yelling about wanting to know which damn mutt did it.”

“…We can catch up on everything else later.”

Leaving behind the stream of news that threatened to make his head spin, Maxime first set about organizing and assigning the soldiers who had arrived ahead of him.

Even while he worked, people kept coming by to see him.

Why did you take so long? We’ve been waiting forever.

How many supplies did you receive?

Please bestow your blessing upon me as well…

Maxime put every single visitor to work.

He skillfully passed tasks off to them, almost as if all he had to do was wait and workers would come to him on their own.

Eventually, people stopped coming.

“The Saint is a terrifying man. I heard Gilles de Rais was wandering around with nothing to do, and now he’s working so hard he’s practically in tears.”

“He’s always running around doing strange things, so maybe he had it coming…”

Many people could feel the difference Maxime’s return had made.

It was remarkable just how much of a presence one man could have.

“Commander-in-Chief, we’ve finished preparing quarters for the units that will be arriving later. The immediate problems have been dealt with, so I’d like to reorganize the shock cavalry next.”

“Of course. And from now on, please call me by my name. I’m neither a duke nor a commander. I’m Jean.”

“…Jean.”

“Yes. There’s no need for titles to put distance between us.”

“I’ll still call you Commander in formal settings.”

On the battlefield, a person was little more than a single component in a greater machine. No matter how exceptional someone might be, there was always a limit to what one person could accomplish.

The Saintess was the exception.

She could dominate an entire battlefield by herself.

Even then, however, her dominance was limited to combat. In ordinary circumstances, it was Maxime Blanche who commanded an overwhelming presence.

“What in the world is this? …Unbelievable. There was nothing here yesterday.”

“It’s a signal fire maintained by the garrison. The Saint calls them beacons. He had them built because communication along the Loire is so important.”

With visible changes appearing practically overnight, people could feel the Saint’s presence even when he was nowhere in sight.

The engineering corps was like a swarm of locusts in reverse. Led by the Saint, they transformed every place they passed through into a land overflowing with wealth and prosperity. They could probably give an actual swarm of locusts a run for its money.

“…Have you heard the rumors?”

“Arme du Sacrement?”

“Yeah, that.”

With war just around the corner, the hottest topic among the rank-and-file soldiers had nothing to do with the coming battle.

“Who do you think the Saint will choose next?”

“Me, me, me! It has to be me!”

Rumors had spread that anything bestowed by the Saint was special.

The soldiers had come to refer collectively to the Saint’s weapons as Arme du Sacrement.

Weapons of the Sacrament.

“If I had a weapon like that, I could turn my whole life around…”

“I heard that longsword he made recently doesn’t do anything when someone else holds it. Apparently, only someone acknowledged by the Saint can properly wield an Arme du Sacrement.”

“Damn… I was thinking about stealing one.”

“Then just how incredible is the holy sword of Sainte-Catherine that the Saintess carries around?”

“Lord Gilles de Rais was already famous to begin with, so that’s one thing, but that bastard who got the sword this time really hit the jackpot.”

Saint Maxime Blanche had already left a powerful impression on the soldiers with his devastating cannons.

And now there were weapons forged by the Saint himself…

To the ordinary soldiers of France, the Arme du Sacrement had become objects of mouthwatering desire.

Maxime was well aware of how badly the soldiers wanted them. There were all kinds. Soldiers who marched straight up to him out of nowhere and swore their loyalty, and knights who tried to subtly hint at their interest.

Even the men from Domrémy, who already had weapons of their own, suddenly came to him and renewed their oaths of loyalty.

This can’t go on.

Maxime made a formal announcement before the soldiers.

“I’m establishing a new unit to carry out a variety of missions. Its members will be selected through interviews and tests, and only a very small number of them will receive weapons and equipment ‘specially’ made by me.”

The announcement only poured fuel on the fire.

Questions about the interview schedule came flooding in, and even those who had kept quiet until now began preparing themselves for a chance to receive one of the weapons.

In truth, the only reason they had remained silent was because none of them dared demand that the Saint hand over one of his weapons. They had been burning with desire in silence, but now that there was an official process, there was no longer any reason to hide it.

Like people waiting desperately for their chance at public housing, everyone eagerly awaited the interviews.

“Can I apply too?”

Jeanne d’Arc suddenly showed up out of nowhere.

“Jeanne, you have soldiers to lead. What would happen if you joined a small unit like this?”

Jeanne trudged away, visibly dejected.

Maxime stopped her before she could leave.

“You don’t need an interview. If you need any weapons or equipment I’ve made, you can take whatever you want. And if there’s anything you need specially made, just tell me.”

“…Really?”

“You’re special to me. Of course you get special treatment.”

Jeanne d’Arc could not sleep that night.

The next morning, the Saintess offered a prayer of repentance.

***

Pierre brought Maxime some troubling news about Richemont.

Apparently, whether it was an attempt to seize the initiative or something else, Richemont had continued causing trouble regularly even after Maxime left.

“Boss, let’s just get rid of those bastards. Ever since I went toe-to-toe with one of their cavalry commanders last time, they practically have a fit whenever they see me.”

Maxime considered it.

Richemont’s cavalry was well equipped and well trained. Since Maxime intended to reorganize the cavalry formations anyway, simply throwing them away would be a waste.

If I can just get Richemont on a leash, his cavalry would be a huge help in a field battle…

Maxime had a rough grasp of Richemont’s character by now.

He was a man who acted according to profit rather than loyalty. It would be difficult to make an ally of him through proposals or negotiation, and any halfhearted cooperation would only invite him to betray them later for greater gain or secretly line his own pockets.

Maxime went to find the Duke of Alençon.

“Jean, let’s crush Richemont.”

Meanwhile, the Dauphin’s call for reinforcements was setting the entire realm ablaze with excitement.

People were astonished to hear that France, after suffering defeat after defeat, had finally won a victory. And the invitation to fight alongside the Saintess set their hearts racing.

“I don’t care if I die!! Let’s go die fighting!”

“For the glory of the Kingdom of France!”

A dangerous journey. Low wages. Repeated risk of death. No guarantee of returning alive. Honor and glory upon success.

Maxime’s recruitment notice brought together young men who were already burning with excitement.

The young men who had kept their heads down after years of defeat disappeared, replaced by a growing fervor to join the war. Even some of the bandits who had scattered across the countryside to pillage began returning to the French army after hearing the news.

That was how shocking the relief of Orléans had been.

Young men answered the call in droves, and within a single month, the army’s strength had increased by nearly five thousand men.