Chapter 6

People born after the 20th century often think of total war when they hear the word “war”.

Total war mobilizes everything for the war effort: politics, diplomacy, the economy, culture, science and technology, and even women’s labor.

It extends military mobilization far beyond the battlefield into every aspect of society.

But total war is a modern concept.

For most of history, wars were localized conflicts fought in limited areas.

The way they were fought was simple as well. Two armies met at a predetermined battlefield, and the side that got its head smashed in lost.

In that sense, the Hundred Years’ War occupies a unique place in history.

Disputed succession claims and the ambitions of the nobility fueled an endless cycle of conflict.

Few wars lasted so long while constantly changing in character as this one did.

“Just because the king is dead doesn’t mean the forces behind him disappear. Henry’s death isn’t going to end the war.”

The adults brushed my warning aside. The children, however, reacted differently.

“The grown-ups are fools. I believe you, Maxime. We have to prepare for war.”

“Boss, we’re here too!”

The children accepted my call to prepare for war without the slightest hesitation.

It wasn’t so much that they’d been convinced by logic as that they followed me with blind loyalty.

Maybe it’s because this is an age when chivalry is taken seriously. They’re unbelievably loyal.

Knowing there were people who trusted me, however few, put me a little at ease.

“Will we be okay without any adults?”

“Of course. You’ve got me, the future knight. What is there to worry about?”

Now it was time to think about the practical problems.

There was no way I could expect children who hadn’t even reached their teens to stand against grown soldiers.

“Right. I never intended for us to fight in the first place.”

I explained my plan.

“If everyone in Domrémy is going to escape, word has to spread quickly.

I’ll make whistles loud enough to get everyone’s attention. If anything happens, blow your whistle while directing people toward the escape route.”

“Where are we supposed to run?”

“Looking at the geography, the English and Burgundian armies can only advance from north to south.

The place we can escape to is Neufchâteau. As it happens, I have connections with someone influential there, so if we’re lucky, we might even receive help from the local nobility.”

“Just as expected of you, Brother… you’ve thought of everything!”

The next day,

As soon as I got up, I got to work. I obtained the clay I needed from a pottery workshop.

I made a simple wind instrument.

I had learned how to make it while filming videos in the past. It had been for a piece of content recreating the Aztec civilization’s death whistle.

The first person to recreate the death whistle in the real world had done so by 3D-printing a copy of an actual whistle. I, on the other hand, had recreated it through pure trial and error with no information to work from.

Compared to that, making a small whistle like this was nothing.

“Everyone, take one. I attached a cord to each of them, but it might come loose if it gets caught on something, so keep it in your pocket.”

The children excitedly blew into their whistles. From their perspective, a whistle was a fascinating novelty.

“That’s enough. Don’t blow them unless it’s necessary. If you use them all the time, people won’t feel any sense of urgency when something actually happens. Their reactions will be slower.”

We also practiced for the real thing.

I had them run back and forth along the Meuse River while blowing their whistles. No matter how simple the task, practice was essential.

Even the simplest actions become difficult when people freeze in a real emergency.

Practice is like stretching for the real thing. If the body moves first, the frozen mind will naturally follow.

“If you keep blowing it nonstop, it’ll just become background noise. Blow it at the right moments and shout for everyone to follow you!”

I described different scenarios to the children and had them run through each one. Since there was no telling what might happen in a real emergency, I wanted them to think as broadly as possible.

“Huff… Huff…”

“I’m tired…”

The children’s romantic notions of standing against an army quickly disappeared.

Training them had been the right decision. The children, who had followed me out of nothing but idealism, were finally coming to their senses. To the French, romanticism was practically a chronic disease.

The only one who seemed to be enjoying himself was Walter. Maybe he thought endurance training was a game. He would deliberately wait ahead of the others, then start running just as they caught up, pretending they were chasing him.

I guess he won’t need walks. More importantly, with stamina like that… I’m tempted. Maybe I should put a bell around his neck.

He was an exceptionally athletic dog. If I knew how to train him properly, I could probably raise him as a search or guard dog.

“That’s enough training for today.”

“Already? Doesn’t that seem a little short? Shouldn’t we run a few more laps?”

Pierre said as he wiped the sweat from his face.

“We need to conserve our energy. We don’t know when something might happen.”

It took a long time for news from the front to reach Domrémy. Since I had no way of knowing the current situation, I had to remain on constant alert.

“And this goes without saying, but no playing for the time being. It would be pointless to make all these preparations only to be caught off guard.”

“R-Right… You’re right.”

“Brother Pierre, your lips are trembling.”

“But surely we can make time for a little target practice…”

“No.”

I was firm.

This feeling of unease just won’t go away.

My anxiety came from the uncertainty of the future.

I thought about what I could do.

I could make weapons designed solely to kill people.

…It was possible, but I hesitated. Even if I made them, the only ones who could use them would be the children.

I didn’t want to put weapons in their hands. I didn’t want to waste my talent that way.

Am I being too naive?

There was no one to answer me.

***

Today was a special day.

Jacques d’Arc had invited my family over for dinner.

The d’Arc family was among the wealthier households in Domrémy. There was no chance they’d skimp on the hospitality.

“Haha! Welcome!”

Jacques greeted us warmly.

“Thank you for always looking after my son and daughter. May God bless you abundantly.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Hoho.”

Madame Isabelle and my mother got along well. They were like older versions of Jeanne and Agathe.

Jeannette stayed quietly by herself, probably feeling shy since so many people had gathered.

Pierre, meanwhile, was fiddling with his whistle even now.

“Maxim, it’s been a while. Thanks for keeping that good-for-nothing Pierre company.”

It was Jacques d’Arc Jr., the eldest son. He had the same name as his father.

The d’Arc family had five children. I was comfortable around everyone up to Jeannette, the youngest, but there was enough of an age gap between me and Pierre’s older siblings that I always felt a little distant from them.

“Don’t just stand there. Come on in. It’s a special occasion, so we prepared lamb.”

We headed toward the long dining table.

The atmosphere was warm and cheerful.

“Gent, what do you think about everything that’s happened? Surely the Armagnacs, who support the rightful royal line, will make a comeback.”

“I trust King Charles will handle things well.”

“Is that so?”

Jacques took a keen interest in politics. Gent, on the other hand, cared little for it, though he always humored the other person in conversation.

“Dear.”

“Ah, right. Let’s pray before the food gets cold.”

Prayer was a sacred ritual. As the head of the household, Jacques led the prayer.

“Our Lord, who watches over us, today the one who committed such wicked deeds has received divine punishment. Such a momentous event could only have come about through Your grace. I pray that the sins France has committed have at last been forgiven by You.

We are also joined today by Blanche, a dependable craftsman and a pillar of our village. Thank You for blessing us with such a precious neighbor. Your will always shines with holiness. I pray that I have prepared a gathering worthy of that will. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen.”

“””Amen.”””

I opened my eyes. For the record, I hadn’t been thinking about anything at all. My prayers had never contained even the slightest trace of religious devotion.

“Eat as much as you like. There’ll be plenty.”

Everyone in my family, men and women alike, ate heartily.

The d’Arc family, on the other hand, was different. Only the men really dug into the food.

The women ate modestly, largely because of Madame Isabelle’s influence. She was deeply devout, and both of her daughters had grown accustomed to an ascetic way of eating.

“Maxim, here. Have this.”

Catherine d’Arc held out a roasted lamb leg to me.

We weren’t especially close, but we weren’t awkward around each other either, so I accepted it without hesitation.

Having reached adolescence, she casually shoved Pierre aside and took the seat across from me.

“Maxime, you really seem to live by God’s teachings. You’re always looking out for the people around you.”

“…? Thank you.”

The compliment came out of nowhere. I’d never followed God’s teachings, but there was no reason to take a compliment badly.

After we’d all had our fill, I wiped my younger sibling’s mouth and helped tidy up.

“Just as I thought…”

Catherine murmured to herself.

Then Jeannette spoke up with the question she’d been wanting to ask.

“I heard you’re preparing for an invasion. Is that true?”

Pierre noticed me glancing at him and gave an awkward smile.

“Sorry. She kept asking where I got this…”

“I want to help too.”

Jeanne held out her hand.

“Please make one for me too.”

The silent pressure was impossible to ignore. There was no way I could refuse.

“…I’ll make you one tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. It’s a promise.”

Seeing Jeannette brighten up, I felt like I’d made the right decision.

Pierre couldn’t resist adding a comment.

“You know, when you think about it, you always seem especially soft on Jeannette.”

“You’re imagining things.”

The gathering continued as the atmosphere grew even livelier.

The conversation drifted from faith to politics.

Jacques mostly talked about politics, Isabelle about religion, and my mother about raising children.

Father mostly listened and responded when spoken to.

The warm atmosphere fell silent when Jacques d’Arc brought up a new topic.

“Say, Gent, it’s already October. It won’t be long before Maxime turns fourteen.”

“What are you getting at?”

“What do you think about having him marry my daughter, Catherine? I’m not saying it has to happen right away. I know you want to give your son time. We can take it slow, and I’ll prepare a house for the two of them.”

Every conversation around the table came to a stop.

“Hmm.”

“That’s a lukewarm reaction. To be honest, it’s not as though I’m desperate for this match. The village mayor already suggested marrying his son to Catherine. I’m only making this offer because Maxime is such a fine young man.”

“I’d rather avoid talking about marriage until my son has grown up enough to speak for himself.”

“It’s not like it’s a bad proposal. Why avoid it?”

It was a proposal from a close family friend. Even Father couldn’t reject it outright.

After a moment’s thought, he turned to me.

“Maxime, what do you think?”

Everyone’s eyes were on me.

To an outsider, it might have looked as though he was placing an unfair burden on his son.

But this wasn’t shirking responsibility. He was giving me a voice because he genuinely respected and trusted me.

If I reject it to their faces, it’ll make things awkward… Maybe I should do what Father did and pass the decision to someone else.

As it happened, there was someone I could pass the ball to.

“I think I’m still too young. Catherine’s opinion is probably the one that matters most.”

It was a calculated move.

If Catherine answered that she wasn’t sure either, then the conversation would naturally end with, “Let’s talk about it again another time.”

After hearing my answer, Jacques stroked his beard for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Hahaha! Catherine’s the one who brought it up in the first place!”

“…Huh?”

I turned to look at Catherine. She kept her lips tightly pressed together, seemingly out of embarrassment. But she didn’t avert her gaze.

“…Big sister?”

Janette stared blankly, her eyes darting back and forth between her sister and me.

I’m screwed.

I’d been hoping to let the matter quietly die, but Catherine’s reaction had thrown the entire atmosphere off.

While I was in turmoil, Mother clapped her hands like an airhead.

Even Father, who was usually so strong-willed, looked completely dumbfounded.

Normally, when you’re this young, even a one-year age gap feels huge… With a three-year difference, shouldn’t I look like a little kid to Catherine? …Is this because I’ve grown too well?

Thanks to eating well and sleeping well, I’d grown to nearly an adult’s height compared to my peers.

Something was about to bear fruit regardless of what I wanted. There was no easy way to salvage the situation.

“Wait a second.”

Janette stood up with her fists clenched.

“Won’t… Maxime… meet someone else… someone better… in the future?”

“…What are you talking about?”

Catherine mulled over her sister’s words for a moment before finally growing indignant.

“So now you’re saying I’m not a good person?”

“That’s not it. Maxime said… someday… he wants a mature marriage… like our parents have.”

It felt like she was opposing the idea just for the sake of opposing it.

“Then there’s no problem. I’m plenty mature.”

Catherine straightened her shoulders and proudly thrust out her mature figure.

“That’s not the kind of maturity I meant…!”

“Enough. Maxime, answer me. What do you think of me?”

“Wait, everyone, calm down…”

“Answer me properly!”

I felt like I was about to lose my mind.

Jacques let out a weary groan.

“Two daughters are too much for a man like you, you fool.”

The meal ended that day in an unmistakably awkward atmosphere.

It hadn’t gone the way I’d intended, but thanks to Janette’s sudden outburst, the marriage discussion fizzled out anyway.

***

The Burgundian army attacked Domrémy.