Alaric cautiously approached Fafnir.
His plan with Artoria was simple... since anyone could be under a knight's armor, the dragon code-named Fafnir could, in essence, be replaced by any dragon.
There was no need to worry about being discovered, as Alaric possessed the ability to absorb its mystery. After killing it, he would take its form. Then, at the perfect moment, when Jeanne Alter was at her most triumphant, he would deliver the most fatal betrayal... Honestly, Alaric was a bit puzzled... how did Artoria come up with such a ruthless, heart-stabbing plan?
Alaric couldn't shake the feeling that, after shedding her identity as a "king." This blonde airhead was gradually letting loose, no longer hiding her draconic nature.
"Even among dragons, she's practically diabolical... no, more like cunningly devious."
Muttering to himself, Alaric crept closer to the massive dragon. He had to be cautious, taking its life as quickly as possible before anyone noticed. Then, he would assume its form and take its place.
But...
"What are you doing here?"
Suddenly, an icy voice rang out from behind.
The scales on Alaric's white dragon form bristled, and his heart sank with a silent curse.
"It's Jeanne Alter!"
This naive woman... how could her intuition be so sharp?
"This is no place for you!"
Jeanne Alter's voice and footsteps echoed simultaneously as she approached... Alaric's mind raced, trying to figure out what to do in this situation.
In truth, he was already preparing to strike.
A mere Dragon Witch? If push came to shove, he'd abandon the redemption plan and send her straight to hell... or so Alaric thought.
But what he didn't expect was...
"This place is too dangerous for you to be here."
"Did you see that giant dragon? It could swallow you whole in one bite!"
"Really, where's your master? How could they let you wander into a place like this?"
"Alright, alright, I can't just leave you... Are you hungry, out here looking for food?"
Jeanne Alter's voice remained cold.
Yet, in that icy tone, there was a gentleness she had never shown to humans.
...
Jeanne Alter led Alaric to an abandoned pasture outside the city.
Naturally, the pasture's owner was long gone... whether they were among the undead hordes wandering outside the city, who could say?
But in this abandoned pasture, the cattle still grazed leisurely or played by the river, unaffected by the collapse of the human world.
Ironic? No, this was normal.
The cattle didn't care who their master was... serving an emperor or a farmer made no difference. It was just a matter of where they ate their grass.
And Jeanne Alter's "revenge" never included these animals.
Betrayed by humans, her hatred for them was etched into her Spirit Origin, the foundation of her existence in this world.
As for animals, Jeanne Alter had no intention of harming them... unless it was to kill them for food, of course.
"Let me try."
"I remember roasting meat as a kid... though I've mostly forgotten how."
Jeanne Alter slaughtered a cow and personally "roasted" it to treat the "lost" white dragonling who was hungry.
"Did I scare you when I got angry earlier? Don't be afraid, that wasn't directed at you... honestly, are those Servants all useless? Three against two, and they got two of ours killed? Even if they all escaped!"
"Ah, the meat's a bit overcooked... Try it, how's the taste?"
Jeanne Alter's behavior was like that of someone with a split personality.
She loathed all humans, including Servants, with a burning passion, but to this "dragonling" About four meters long, she was surprisingly gentle and patient.
... What fault do dragons have?
She had once said as much.
She stubbornly believed that all the world's conflicts stemmed from human greed, from their desire for things that didn't belong to them. Dragons, even those labeled as evil dragons, were, at their core, just creatures with immense power.
"You're the same."
"Who knows how that Saber lured you in, making a little thing like you fight for her!"
"Dragons are supposed to be strong, a symbol of freedom... bowing to no one, yielding to no fate."
Jeanne Alter continued to advocate for Alaric's cause.
Though everything she said was based on her own assumptions, Alaric couldn't help but nod repeatedly. He even patted her back with his wings, as if to say, "I have my struggles."
... Exactly, sister, you're so right.
... That blonde airhead used her status as "Britain's only female dragon" To seduce me; I had no choice but to obey her!
... If we'd met earlier, she wouldn't stand a chance!
... You're not a Dragon Witch; you're practically a Dragon Saint!
... Though your roasting skills are honestly a bit lacking; one side's charred, and the other's still bloody. Let me handle it.
"Nonsense!"
"I-I just haven't roasted in a while... that's all! Let me try again!"
...
It was a pleasant afternoon.
This afternoon reminded Alaric of his childhood, those days spent lying on a cliff, waiting to share a late-night meal with the blonde airhead.
... Such simple, ordinary moments, yet ones he could never return to.
And Jeanne Alter? Did she recall anything?
During a break from roasting, Alaric sneaked a glance at her face.
The warm glow of the fire illuminated her cheeks, giving her pale skin a faint flush. Jeanne Alter focused intently on the meat in her hands, carefully turning the skewer... her flagpole.
... Using a Noble Phantasm to roast meat? Probably no one else but her would do such a thing.
"Done!"
After about forty minutes of careful cooking, a perfectly roasted skewer finally appeared in her hands.
She tossed the meat into Alaric's mouth with a casual air... but the smug expression on her face clearly conveyed one thing:
"Praise me quick!"
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