Kingdom of France, City of Orléans.
This city, where the Saintess once gained fame, has now truly become a hell on earth.
There are wyverns here, but not just wyverns. Zombies, skeletons, werewolves... The dead humans, controlled by the witch's resentment, have transformed into terrifying and pitiful monsters, wandering this land that resembles hell.
This is undoubtedly tragic.
But the true tragedy is far more than this.
"Damn it... "
"The Lancer and Assassin were killed?"
"Three against two, and you got two of ours killed? Are you pigs?!"
"You have the nerve to come back? Why didn't you die there with them?"
In the dilapidated palace, a terrifying roar suddenly echoed.
Jeanne Alter... this Dragon Witch, full of confidence, determined to burn this country to the ground with the flames of revenge. Today, she received the most infuriating intelligence since her creation.
Defeat at Lyon.
Facing the strong offensive of three of our Servants, the enemy Servants managed to turn the tables in a desperate situation, only paying a negligible price (Siegfried slightly injured) while inflicting heavy losses on us... Such a battle report is unacceptable to any leader.
Even the most seasoned commander would suspect that there was more to this defeat.
But Jeanne Alter never thought that way.
Beneath that dark armor hides a woman who is actually naive to the point of being easily deceived.
She simply thought that perhaps the enemies were really strong, or maybe they used some cunning tricks... But in any case, the enemy only has two Servants, while there are still five on her side.
Five against two, the advantage is mine!
"It seems that we must concentrate all our forces to utterly crush these delusional fools."
"Gilles, is there enough magical energy for Fafnir? How much longer do we need to prepare?"
"One week... Heh heh, then let them cling to life for another seven days!"
...
Kingdom of France, City of Lyon.
This is the city of survivors.
It is also the only oasis in this hell called France.
"Lady Artoria, those merchants have expressed that they are willing to sell us those supplies at twice the usual price, as a token of gratitude for our protection."
"I accept their kindness on their behalf, and tell them that there is no place for them in this city anymore... they must leave the city before dark, or they will be charged with treason."
"Lady Artoria, refugees are still continuously fleeing to us, and our housing is insufficient."
"The basement, open the basement under the church... the Holy Church has always had the habit of digging shelters, a tradition left from the Roman Republic era."
"Artoria, what about these supplies..."
"Distribute them by family units: those with children should have the children come to collect, those without children should have the mothers collect. For those who have neither children nor mothers... enlist them into the army and distribute through military supplies."
Problems were reported one after another, and responses were given one after another.
Siegfried, standing beside her, looked at this calm and composed king with shock... if Artoria's immense power had earned his recognition, then the demeanor she was displaying now made him worship her.
Composed, calm, without a trace of panic.
These emergencies in his eyes were as mundane to this golden-haired king as deciding 'what to eat tonight'... sometimes she could even provide three different contingency plans for a single issue.
Under her coordination, this city, which was originally like a pile of loose sand, quickly coalesced into a unified whole.
Regular army, ordinary militia, construction teams, transport teams, supply collection teams... regardless of gender or age, everyone found suitable positions under her arrangements.
Of course, there were some who were unwilling to cooperate... but Artoria also used these people to demonstrate to the world why she is called a 'king' rather than a 'saint.'
She merely holds lofty ideals, which does not mean she is soft-hearted or overly compassionate.
"It's truly remarkable."
When a phase of work came to an end, Siegfried sincerely praised the Servant before him.
He is a great hero, but only a great hero. He knows nothing about such tedious affairs... in fact, he couldn't even come up with a mature battle plan.
He only knows how to wield his sword and fight.
But this Servant before him? She not only possesses great power, not only can handle these tedious tasks, but she even has mature plans for the 'future'...
"Saber..."
"Just call me Siegfried."
"Alright, Siegfried. Next, I entrust you to go to other cities to gather intelligence... especially information about the Servants who have descended into this world and are on our side."
"Although the enemy's forces are strong, they, being Servants as well, will not be defeated so easily."
"Find them and bring them back... If you encounter other humans, try to bring them back as well."
"We are not without hope... we still have a chance to win!"
Artoria also assigned a task to Siegfried.
To this, the great hero, who was just worrying about having nothing to do, gladly accepted the order... he really liked this kind of fighting style where he didn't have to think and just followed commands.
"By the way, Siegfried. Remember, whether you find other Servants or not, you must return here in seven days."
"???"
"Jeanne Alter... that Dragon Witch seems to be preparing to summon a dragon named Fafnir to attack us. We need your strength."
"!!!"
Siegfried stopped in his tracks.
He looked at this calm and composed king with a puzzled gaze.
Fafnir... a terrifying name, a dragon that, once unleashed, is capable of destroying an entire nation.
To be honest, even Siegfried himself didn't know how he had defeated this dragon in the past.
If he were to do it again... he absolutely wouldn't have the resolve to defeat this dragon.
But that's not important now.
What is truly important now is: why does this golden-haired king know the enemy's intelligence so clearly? It's as if she has surveillance in the enemy's war room.
She even knows the enemy's battle plans down to the exact time?
"Don't make that face."
"Besides... that Fafnir might not necessarily be an enemy, you know."
In the synchronized vision in her mind,
Artoria watched the sneaky little white dragon trying to approach that terrifying dragon.
A smile of successful scheming appeared on her face.
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