— — — — — —
"Joan…?"
Hearing the way Tom addressed her, the girl looked even more confused. "Sir, have you mistaken me for someone else?"
"No, I haven't," Tom said, his expression complicated. "I just pronounced your name using English sounds and simplified the surname a bit. It turns into 'Joan of Arc' It's still your name. Jeanne d'Arc."
"Oh… I see."
Jeanne nodded in a daze. She looked like she understood, but in reality… she only caught that "Joan" meant her. As for pronunciation, simplification, any of that, she didn't understand a word.
It couldn't be helped. She was illiterate, after all.
"Saint Joan?!" Ariana suddenly caught on.
Jeanne d'Arc might not know the name "Joan," but Ariana certainly did.
Her fame between England and France was enormous. Many of the books Ariana had read mentioned Joan of Arc, with opinions all over the place.
The harsh criticism usually came from English authors.
After all, a village girl from Orléans had nearly flipped the outcome of the Hundred Years' War. The English losing their minds over that was understandable.
In religious history, Joan had been steadily mythologized. In 1920, Pope Benedict XV canonized her as a saint, giving rise to the title Saint Joan of Arc and firmly cementing her image and status.
Aside from Ravenclaw, who had been busy absorbing the modern magical system ever since being summoned and then promptly worked like a draft horse by Tom, the others had at least heard Joan's story.
Grindelwald rubbed his chin, studying the visibly nervous girl, and suddenly laughed.
"The Pope's saint… is actually a witch? And not just any witch, but a century-king–level one? Hahahaha."
"I—I'm not a witch!"
The moment Grindelwald said that, the little girl forgot her nerves entirely. Her braided hair swung wildly as she shook her head.
"I am the Lord's most faithful believer. It was the Lord's revelation that granted me the authority to act in His name. That is not witchcraft. Not witchcraft!"
Ariana objected, "Everyone who appears here is a wizard. And a very powerful one. You received that information just now too, didn't you?"
That left Jeanne speechless.
The information she'd received had indeed clearly stated that she was a witch. The way it was delivered felt like divine revelation… no, even more authoritative. There was no room to refuse. She had instinctively accepted it as the will of the Lord.
Could she really be a witch?
Jeanne lived in the thirteenth century, during one of the fiercest periods of conflict between wizards and the Church. One of the main reasons she'd been executed was that her so-called "divine revelations" were judged by the court to be whispers of demons, branding her a witch.
Even when she was burned at the stake, Jeanne hadn't cared. She knew she was innocent. She was not a witch.
And now, "God" was telling her that she was.
The psychological blow was immense.
Her braid drooped lifelessly. Her lips pouted, and a spark flashed briefly in her eyes. It was so fast that only Ravenclaw and Tom noticed. Even Grindelwald and Andros missed it.
"Jeanne, whether you're a witch or not is still up for debate," Tom said quickly, pulling the village girl back from the brink. "We're just speculating. Don't panic."
"Regardless of whether you're a witch," he continued gently, "you definitely possess extremely powerful supernatural abilities. That much is beyond doubt, right?"
Jeanne's situation was different from Ariana's.
Ariana had been summoned as a "teacher" through a gacha. With her Obscurial outburst, she absolutely had power on that level.
But Jeanne?
Tom had spent a full thousand achievement points on her.
Whether it was strength or potential, she had to be a century king. Otherwise, the system was basically scamming him.
So Tom wanted to see it for himself. What exactly was Jeanne strong at, and just how strong was she?
"You're right."
This time, Jeanne didn't hesitate. She clasped her hands before her chest in prayer and spoke with absolute devotion.
"In order for me to save France, the Lord granted me certain abilities. I thank Him for His grace."
A holy radiance spread from her body. No one would've been surprised if wings sprouted from her back the very next second.
"Would you mind demonstrating them?" Tom asked. "You know why you're here. Your task is to teach me what you excel at."
Jeanne nodded. She treated the information flowing into her mind as divine revelation, so she would never disobey Tom's words.
"I'll be her opponent," Grindelwald said, stepping forward on his own.
An underage century king, and from the Church, no less? That was enough to stir his fighting spirit.
Jeanne looked to Tom. Seeing him nod slightly, she bowed politely to Grindelwald. "Sir, I will be careful not to hurt you."
The playful smile on Grindelwald's face froze.
Tom and the others retreated, holding back their laughter as they cleared space for the two of them.
Grindelwald snorted. Clearly annoyed now, he didn't bother with ceremony and struck first. Under normal circumstances, he would've let Jeanne make the opening move.
But well... blame the witch.
The instant Grindelwald released his spell, or perhaps even earlier, Jeanne moved. With a perfectly timed sidestep, she dodged the streaking curse by a hair's breadth.
Grindelwald raised an eyebrow and fired off several more spells in quick succession. Their power ramped up steadily, all of them fast, straight-line attacks.
And again. Jeanne evaded every one of them with the most economical movements imaginable.
"What about this?" Grindelwald said. "Can you dodge it too?"
Seeming to grasp what ability she was using, he pointed his wand skyward. His signature Protego Diabolica erupted forth, a sea of raging flames crashing down toward her.
This time, Jeanne didn't dodge.
She murmured a prayer, and armor formed around her body, forged of radiant, holy light. Along with it, her entire aura transformed.
The naïve village girl who could be tricked with a single bowl of spicy noodles was gone. In her place stood a valiant, commanding general.
The battle was still dominated by Grindelwald. Jeanne was completely on the defensive.
No matter what methods Grindelwald used, he couldn't break through her defense. Jeanne, on the other hand, seemed to lack offensive techniques. She could only crudely channel her immense power into explosive blasts. They hit hard, but a simple Apparition was enough to avoid them.
Of course, that was true only for someone at the Grindelwald level.
Swap Grindelwald out for Snape, and the spatial turbulence from those explosions alone would prevent Apparition entirely. He'd have no choice but to tank the hit. Surviving even one would already prove extraordinary magical power. A few more, and he'd be dead for sure.
Tom, however, wasn't satisfied with Jeanne's performance.
That's it?
"Jeanne. Jeanne d'Arc!"
His voice cut through the storm and pierced straight into her ears. "Holding back isn't politeness. It's disrespectful to Grindelwald. Go all out. Do you understand?"
Jeanne's face went pale. She took a deep breath.
A banner condensed in her hand, and she slammed it into the ground.
"O' Lord, I borrow your power. Fire of Judgment!"
The earth shook. Several pillars of flame, each more than ten meters across, erupted simultaneously from the ground. Protego Diabolica beasts collapsed the instant they touched those flames.
"So strong…" Andros, who'd been yawning the whole time, finally perked up. He looked eager now. "Gellert's flames are being completely suppressed. That fire… it's burning will and spirit?"
"What do you think?" Tom asked, turning to Ravenclaw. "Is she a witch?"
Ravenclaw shot back, "If she's not a witch, then what is she?"
"Overwhelming magic power, intense emotion, unshakable will," she continued. "Among all the spellcasters I've seen, her willpower ranks near the very top. That's rare."
"I'm still a bit unsure about the nature of this power," Tom said.
"You know magic's nature changes with a wizard's personality and mindset," Ravenclaw replied after some thought. "Think of this girl as a complete opposite version of 'Voldemort.' She's been a devout Catholic since birth. After years and years of that belief, her magic naturally evolved in the direction her heart followed."
"That makes sense," Tom nodded, then sighed with envy. "Being single-minded like that really makes success easier, huh? Andros only thinks about fighting. Voldemort is pure, distilled evil. And now we've got a village girl who got spiritually brainwashed…"
"She is 16, right? Damn it. I don't even dare say I could've reached this level at sixteen."
Tom felt a bit depressed.
Ariana felt worse.
Everyone praised her talent. Andros, Grindelwald, Tom, Ravenclaw, all of them.
Yet compared to Jeanne, she looked utterly outclassed.
Even the Obscurial inside her was trembling. Magic so filled with light was basically poison to it.
Boom!
Jeanne swung her banner. Blades of fire shot outward. Grindelwald, who'd been dodging nonstop, finally slipped up.
Every escape route was sealed. He had no choice but to rip the earth up as a shield. Then more fire pillars erupted from the ground. His magical barrier came up a split second too late, and most of his robe burned away.
"That's enough, Jeanne. You did very well."
Tom had seen enough. He directly used his authority over the space to separate the two.
Praised like that, the girl broke into a pure smile, untouched by knowledge or calculation.
"Could you tell me about your experiences back then?" Tom asked curiously.
.
.
.
A/N: There are many versions of Jeanne's story, and the differences between them are huge. This is especially true in the HP universe, where the Church itself was a major power.
So how did such a powerful sixteen-year-old century king end up being put on trial by the Church? (Yes, I adjusted her age a little for this world)
And did the Church have someone even stronger backing it at the time?
Those are just my thoughts for now, and y'know, a lot of Rowling's characters draw from myths and legends anyway. So Jeanne being a witch isn't weird, right?