Returning to her room, Jeanne d'Arc composed her thoughts before lying down to sleep in her clothes.
Though Servants don't require rest, her particular manifestation was special—her vessel, Laeticia, needed sufficient sleep to avoid recreating their initial predicament.
So sleep it was. All rest served to prepare for moving forward.
Bearing both the responsibilities of a saint and the small worries of a maiden, Jeanne soon fell asleep.
—And dreamed of radiance.
It was a celebration that seemed to concentrate all glory and blessings. Crown Prince Charles returned triumphantly to Reims for his coronation as King of France.
This was the dream and hope of all French people. After successfully lifting the siege of Orléans, Jeanne d'Arc continued battling the English forces. Amidst the fervent support of soldiers, the maiden waved her battle standard at the front lines. Though she never drew the holy sword from her scabbard, her footsteps never faltered—
...The dream flashed by like a revolving lantern, with glory giving way to ruin and downfall.
The heresy trial. Days of being mocked, tortured, and revenged upon by all.
Though it was heartbreaking, the ordeal ultimately changed nothing. Her homeland was liberated—the radiant vision Jeanne had longed for had become reality.
"You fought continuously."
Hearing Lord's voice, she threw herself into battle knowing betrayal awaited. Yet she resolved to fight until the very end.
Why? She asked herself this question repeatedly.
"Was it atonement?"
Atonement for killing enemy soldiers?
"To save as many as possible?"
To save lives even if it meant breaking her banner?
"Or..."
Or because she believed it was right.
[The Lord had betrayed her.]
Those who knew Jeanne said this. One marshal went mad from this despair—his deranged state even etched into human history as he proclaimed that the Lord had deceived an innocent maiden, that she'd been abandoned—
"What are your thoughts about him?"
It's sad. How tragic that he abandoned the Lord. That he couldn't understand Lord's blamelessness—truly tragic.
Knowing the pyre awaited, Jeanne still fought at Compiègne.
"Why persist when you knew the outcome?"
Because Jeanne's death wouldn't be meaningless, even without reward, it secured the future—her death restored her homeland's strength, finally staunching the endless bloodshed.
Historically, it might seem an aborted beginning. In the river of time, perhaps it saved only a handful. Maybe it was futile, meaningless.
"But you disagree?"
Completely. That's why, even upon the cross, I hated no one.
For I understood this was my destined end—my final devotion.
"You are strong."
"Thank you. Without your assistance, I wouldn't be here. I feel truly fortunate to have been lucky enough to meet you."
In the depths of the dream, Jeanne d'Arc smiled gratefully at the girl who resembled her, failing to notice the trace of sorrow that surfaced on Laeticia's face.
"The final question—is maintaining the current relationship with him the right thing to do?"
At these words, Jeanne's steady heart suddenly felt as if pricked by a thorn, sending a sharp pain through her. This was the one matter she had concealed from everyone, the only thing that made her hesitate.
The mysterious young man who called himself 'Sakatsuki' had come representing the will of the Clock Tower. Though he seemed indifferent to everyone, he alone had captured the girl's heart.
She knew it was just her own unrequited feelings. She knew that young man wouldn't waver for anyone. But what troubled her most was the voice that always whispered in her ear—his existence was crucial. This was divine revelation, something that had never been wrong before.
Yet the deeper meaning required Jeanne to seek it out herself.
Was he the key to unraveling the mystery? A necessary ally on the path forward? The savior who could overturn everything? Or... the true crisis powerful enough to turn heaven into hell?
As a Ruler, Jeanne had to discern the young man's true nature. But until now, despite having many opportunities, she had only watched with a smile as his figure came and went before her, never once trying to stop him.
Was she afraid? Afraid that taking that step would be irreversible? Afraid her premonition would come true—that her banner ultimately couldn't protect those she loved...?
"I don't know. Only this... I truly don't know."
This was a question Jeanne simply couldn't answer.
The girl's faint longing was being trampled upon by the Servant called Ruler. She locked those feelings away in a box, bound it tightly with ropes, and abandoned it in a corner of the warehouse.
So no one would see. So no one would question it.
"Alright, it's late. Laeticia, you should sleep too... Hm?"
With Jeanne's puzzled murmur, the dream shook and collapsed. In reality, the girl opened her gem-like eyes and sat up abruptly in bed.
"What's happening?" Laeticia asked in confusion. Meanwhile, Jeanne, clad only in thin sleepwear and ignoring the night's chill, rummaged through drawers until she found a spiritual energy board. As she examined it, she replied:
"To detect that unidentified Servant who can conceal their presence, I asked Alma to set up a bounded field on this spiritual energy board. If any Servant in Romania shows unusual activity, I'll sense it."
The board itself couldn't pinpoint a Servant's location—it only displayed information. But under Jeanne and Alma's adjustments, its range was limited to Romania.
In other words—if a Servant entered Romania, information would appear on the board. If a Servant left Romania, their data would vanish from it.
Incidentally, the board couldn't display a Servant's class.
"So it's basically like a tracking device..."
"Yes. Right now, the board is reacting. That means the number of Servants in Romania has changed."
As Jeanne d'Arc operated the spiritual plate, it activated, but the scene displayed left her frozen in place, utterly perplexed.
"Two Servant registrations and one Servant deregistration... How can there be so many? Has something happened that I'm unaware of?"
The spiritual plate emitted an eerie glow, revealing two Servants with concealed True Names—likely hidden by some artifact—while the Servant registered as Karna had vanished.
Clearly, something was amiss. With this thought, Jeanne instantly donned her armor and rushed toward the Fortress of Millennia. Along the way, she encountered someone entirely unexpected.
"Red Archer, Miss Atalanta...?!"
"You are... Jeanne d'Arc?"
Perched on a tree branch, Atalanta momentarily bristled before relaxing upon recognizing Jeanne. She glanced into the distance and urgently motioned for her to climb up.
"Has something happened tonight?"
"Shh, don't speak. Look over there."
Following Atalanta's pointed finger, Jeanne's pupils constricted.
"That's...!"
It was an Assassin clad in a black robe, his handsome features exposed—a figure unrelated to Karna or the two mysterious Servants.
And his destination was—
"Sighișoara..."
Atalanta murmured thoughtfully, exchanging a glance with the saint beside her. Jeanne decisively set aside the anomaly on the spiritual plate and stealthily followed alongside Atalanta.
Jeanne had a premonition that tonight, many secrets lurking within this Holy Grail War would begin to reveal themselves to her.
Yet the next moment, a diamond-shaped spatial rift appeared before Sakatsuki. Before Jeanne and Atalanta could react, he stepped into it and vanished, leaving the two girls standing dumbfounded, staring at each other.