Chapter 48

The technical unit helped with the mass production of the badges. They fired up the furnaces and began casting them, and once the basic shapes were finished, Maxime personally handled the finer details.

Enough badges were made for a total of 120 men. Each one also had a flat rectangular space in the center where a name could be engraved. The key to the design was its bold, sturdy outline.

Is there anything else I should add?

He needed to test them. At the same time, he did not want to carelessly reveal the badges to too many people. Fortunately, he knew the perfect human test subject: an active soldier.

Maxime called Pierre aside.

“Pierre, this is a badge that’ll be given to the members of the newly formed unit. Try pinning it to your chest. What do you think? Does it seem like it’ll get in the way during battle? How’s the weight?”

“What’s this empty space for?”

“I left it blank so I can engrave each soldier’s initials there and tell them apart. I’m also planning to record their individual achievements and honors.”

“What about me? What about meee?! This is betrayal, Captaaain!”

Pierre threw a fit. He protested furiously that after all the loyalty they had shown fighting by his side until now, Maxime was giving gifts like these only to his new subordinates.

Admittedly, Maxime had never considered it from that perspective. He had failed to show enough consideration for his longtime comrades.

“Calm down. I’ll give you something better than this. I’m planning to give you a medal of merit instead of a badge.”

“I knew I could count on you, Captain.”

What a simple guy…

In any case, Maxime promised to give the men from Domrémy decorations and medals respectively. Judging by how pleased Pierre was, the visual design seemed more than good enough.

Maybe this actually worked out for the best. If the commanders from Domrémy distinguish themselves while wearing those, it’ll be good publicity.

Since I’m already doing this, maybe I should make a prototype of the Order of Arma Sacramenti decoration and give it to Jeanne d’Arc as a gift?

It was a good idea. The only problem was figuring out how to distinguish this highest-tier decoration from an ordinary medal of merit.

Making it excessively flashy would only make it look less dignified. …And if I just hang all sorts of things off it for the sake of making it stand out, it’ll be inconvenient to carry around. Maybe I should make the armor itself the decoration. Ceremonial armor is common enough, after all.

***

A group of knights holding command positions gathered together.

It was not exactly a secret meeting, but by coincidence, neither the Saint nor the Saintess was present when the conversation turned to them.

The steel cavalry led by Jeanne d’Arc had left a deep impression on everyone who witnessed it.

The sight had been so overwhelming that even their allies had held their breath.

“There must be some special power imbued in the equipment made by the Saint. The stability you feel while moving is completely different. When I’m galloping on horseback in it, I feel like an undefeated hero!”

“It’s not just a feeling. You really were practically invincible, weren’t you? Looking at the armor we used to wear now, it seems so crude I almost want to throw it away. I don’t know how we ever managed with it.”

It was astonishing that the Saint had managed to create something like this in such an unremarkable place. They could go on all day listing just how superior the equipment was to what they had used before.

“I even saw someone praying in front of the horse armor.”

“Wouldn’t that be idolatry?”

“Oh, come on. The Saint made it. It can’t be idolatry.”

“I even sleep in my armor. The Saint’s armor is particularly comfortable.”

Someone glanced around before confessing his unusual preference.

“…That’s a little much.”

“I was joking.”

One of the younger nobles glanced toward an empty seat.

“Richemont has been keeping his mouth shut lately too. Before, he was practically ready to draw his sword, blasphemously threatening to kill him.”

Another knight smiled faintly.

“He must have been frightened after seeing the cavalry led by the Saintess herself. Since he’s a man who knows horses, perhaps the sight affected him more deeply than the rest of us.”

“I doubt he was frightened. He’s probably keeping quiet because it looks like we’re going to win.”

The impression left by the Saint and the Saintess had taken root in the knights’ hearts.

Now, even when the Saint embarked on projects involving entire military units, instead of worrying, they eagerly waited to see what he would create next. Even the citizens of Orléans had begun treating the technical unit’s visits as a local attraction, gathering to watch the magnificent spectacle of their work.

“When does the Saint plan to equip the other gendarmes? If he gives our unit priority, I’m prepared to fight in the vanguard for the rest of the war.”

“Hey, I’m first.”

“All of you are nothing but talk when you can’t even say a word in front of the Saint…”

***

Troops continued to arrive in response to the Dauphin’s call to arms. Counting combat troops alone, their forces had nearly doubled.

With one victory after another and their growing numbers, French confidence had risen considerably.

Maxime discussed their next move with the Duke of Alençon.

“Jean, our momentum is strong. Let’s keep fighting.”

“Then let’s prepare to march.”

“Before we organize the newly arrived units, I want to recruit volunteers for the force directly under my command.”

“I’ll put out the word that you’re looking for volunteers.”

…Nearly every soldier applied to join Maxime’s unit. Apparently, the advertisement included with the call to arms had been quite effective.

There were plenty of applicants, but not enough time.

“Set the physical requirements at the highest level and eliminate everyone who doesn’t meet them. I’ll conduct interviews after that.”

During the interviews, preference was given to soldiers who had experience seeing responsibilities through to the end. Those who were overly enthusiastic were rejected. Everyone started out fired up, but as time passed, only responsibility remained. Maxime needed people who would carry out their assigned duties to the very end.

“What did you do before joining the army, and what kind of experience do you have?”

He selected sixty additional men. The newly formed unit now numbered more than a hundred.

Maxime gathered them in the middle of the barracks, where other soldiers regularly passed by.

“Come forward one at a time.”

Maxime held up one of the mass-produced badges.

“This is a token for those of you who volunteered despite knowing the difficult road ahead. It marks you as a member of this unit.

It may be nothing more than a piece of metal, but we will defend our homeland and shed blood and sweat for it. We will fight together, endure together, and survive together.”

“…….”

Maxime addressed the soldier who stepped forward.

“What’s your name?”

“Lesion.”

Using a pair of heat-resistant tongs like a pencil, Maxime dipped the tip into jade-green enamel and pulled it back out. On the cast plate, he wrote “Lesi”, an abbreviation of Lesion’s name.

“Lesion, this is yours.”

The soldier froze for a moment when the Saint addressed him by name. He was visibly moved.

“G-Great one… I swear before Heaven that I will give my all until the moment my life ends…”

The soldiers came forward one by one. Maxime dipped the tongs into brightly colored metal-oxide enamels. This time, they came out white.

He inscribed either an abbreviation of each soldier’s name or the weapon they primarily used.

With so many similar names, even coming up with distinct abbreviations was not easy. Of course, even identical abbreviations could still be distinguished by their different colors.

“I never thought I’d live to see a day like this…”

“God’s blessing…”

The soldiers bowed their heads after receiving their badges. Some quietly wiped at their eyes with the backs of their hands.

Many people besides the recipients had come out to watch. Their eyes were filled with envy.

It suddenly occurred to Maxime that someone might get greedy and try to steal one.

Better to prevent trouble before it happens.

He thought for a moment.

“If anyone other than its rightful owner takes one of these tokens, they will incur the wrath of Heaven. So those of you who receive one, make sure you keep it safe and do not lose it.”

It sounded as though he were speaking to the members of his unit, but in truth, the warning was directed at the other soldiers.

After the badges had been handed out, the men knelt with solemn expressions. It was a pledge of obedience. Their eyes were filled with resolve.

“””Monseigneur!”””

Monseigneur was a title of respect used for nobles and high-ranking clergy. Maxime felt somewhat burdened by the unexpectedly solemn atmosphere, but he did not let it show.

“…Next, we will present the most honorable of decorations: the Medal of Merit. It is awarded to those who have distinguished themselves in battle.”

To receive a medal was tantamount to being made a knight.

“Pierre and Gilles de Rais, step forward.”

Gilles de Rais’s eyes widened, apparently not expecting his name to be called.

“These medals are a record of the glory you have earned.”

The medals, crafted from bronze by the Saint himself, were intricately engraved with scenes depicting each man’s exploits in battle. Clear amber encased the surface, catching the light, while a chain attached to the back allowed the medal to be worn around the neck.

“This is… truly…”

Gilles de Rais’s voice dropped several octaves lower than usual. He held the medal in his hand, unable to continue speaking for some time.

This was no mere ornament. It was a symbol in which his blood and honor had been crystallized.

He carefully ran his fingertips over the medal. Light shimmered across his palm and reflected in his eyes. His nose stung. Something welled up from deep within him, and for a moment, it felt as though his breath had caught.

Even Pierre, who came from the same village as Maxime and was fairly accustomed to his creations, was so stunned that he dropped his halberd.

“I’ve already said it several times, but I’ll say it again. I’ll fight to the very end. By your side, Captain.”

The soldiers began murmuring among themselves. Their reaction was different from when the badges had first been unveiled. Rather than staring with greedy eyes, they began to pray.

People do not harbor base desires for things that transcend a certain level. They simply look upon greatness with reverence and praise it.

“Regardless of rank or status, I will gladly award a medal to any soldier who distinguishes himself through exceptional deeds. I ask that you turn away from spoils and plunder, and instead fight honorably for your comrades.”

News of the medals proclaimed by the Saint spread throughout the entire French army. Every soldier who heard about them was swept up in excitement, unable to contain their emotions.

The shadow of defeat that had once hung over them was now nowhere to be found.

***

The French army marched south toward Meung-sur-Loire and the fortress of Beaugency.

This time, Maxime joined them as well. He intended to help with maintenance in the field and personally observe the battlefield in search of those who distinguished themselves through exceptional deeds.

The soldiers, too, knew this was their chance to make a good impression on the Saint, and their spirits rose.

“I am amazed. With you among us, even the spirit the soldiers exude feels different.”

“I’m glad to see them in good spirits. I’ve heard that you, Father, have also been comforting the soldiers exhausted by battle.”

“…I am only ashamed that I could not do more for them. I do not even know whether I have truly fulfilled my calling.”

The priest seemed to feel no small amount of helplessness on the battlefield.

“The battlefield is the closest place to death in this world. If your presence alone brings us comfort, then you have already fulfilled your calling.”

“……”

Sweet words did nothing to brighten his expression. The stench of the battlefield and the shadow of death had seeped too deeply into him to be washed away by a little sweetness.

“…I saw the ‘World of Destiny’ that you created. His Holiness Martineau was deeply impressed when he saw it and eventually had it brought into his own chambers. I imagine it still sits somewhere in his room even now.”

The question he had been holding back finally burst forth. The desperation of a man seeking to fathom the will of God had become tangled like thread with his own human doubts.

“What do you believe awaits us after death? And is the World of Destiny truly a representation of Heaven and Hell?”