Chapter 73

"Remy, for having made a pact with the devil, shall also be condemned to the fire," declared solemnly a man dressed in priestly robes, his voice resonating with authority and condemnation. With firm gestures, the guards advanced and seized what appeared to be a sack, throwing it violently at Jeanne's feet, who was already tied to the stake of the bonfire.

As it fell to the ground, the sack burst open violently, revealing a macabre surprise: a head emerged from it. Jeanne stared at that terrible sight, her eyes meeting the eyes of the head, which were empty and lifeless, while the flames began to slowly engulf her. In that moment of anguish, she understood that there would be no room for happiness, no matter how joyful a person could be, upon witnessing the death of their Beloved.

"Hello... Until the end, you are with me," Jeanne whispered to the flaming head, her voice choked by the scorching heat that relentlessly burned her skin. Resignation took hold of her, extinguishing any trace of hope of escaping alive. In fact, she no longer yearned to survive. The fire that surrounded her became a reflection of her own soul, consuming her and taking with it the pain and sadness that had tormented her throughout her existence. In the midst of the flames, Jeanne found a somber peace, accepting her ultimate fate and merging with the eternal shadows.

Even amidst all the oppressive sadness that enveloped the scene, Jeanne found a fragile glimpse of happiness beside Remy, aware that this would be their last encounter. However, the terrible reality of the blazing bonfire looming before them could not be ignored.

"French soldiers!" The soldier's cry, echoing from the top of a tower, ripped through the air, reverberating through the city and filling the hearts of its inhabitants with palpable fear. The woman who led an important wing of the French army, revered as a saint and entrusted with liberating France, was being consumed by the flames. Horror settled in the minds of the people, while the man from the church meticulously adjusted his robes, preparing to leave that place.

In a desperate frenzy, people started running, driven by the fear of being found by the invading army. They knew that by opening the city gates to the French soldiers, they would be sealing their fate: certain death. It was distressing to realize that the majority of the inhabitants supported Jeanne's execution on that infernal pyre, and this knowledge only intensified the fear that spread like a voracious flame.

Gilles, whose triumphant arrival with his army had aroused expectations, was now anxiously awaiting the appearance of Remy and the rest of the team. However, to his surprise and concern, they remained absent. An anguishing restlessness invaded Gilles' heart when, coming from the city's interior, exasperated cries of the population echoed, accusing someone of witchcraft and demanding their execution in the voracious flames of the bonfire. A shiver ran down his spine as he wondered who could be the target of such unfounded accusations.

"To arms!" Gilles shouted vehemently, his words reverberating in the soldiers' ears, who promptly took up their weapons, prepared for the imminent battle that lay ahead. "Jeanne is in that city, we need to assist her!" Gilles' words echoed like thunder, propelling him to run towards the city at an inhuman speed. The soldiers, inflamed by the bold leadership of their commander, cried out in determination and launched into a swift charge towards the pulsating heart of the city.

"The French are approaching!" shouted the English soldier, his voice echoing through the city. In response, the other English soldiers embarked on a frantic preparation, arming themselves with cannons and ballistas, adjusting their sights with deadly precision, and tightening their triggers in readiness for the imminent clash. Tension hung in the air as they awaited the approaching confrontation, an intense mix of intrepid courage and pulsating apprehension permeating their souls.

Gilles disdainfully disregarded all the imposing obstacles that ruthlessly stood before him, advancing with fierce determination toward the walled city. No trace of fear found shelter in his fearless heart, for even in the face of the imminent threat of cannon fire, his unwavering courage remained intact. The soldiers who accompanied him, bound by a bond of indomitable bravery, showed no signs of fear on their battle-hardened faces.

Moved by a transcendent purpose deeply embedded in his core, Gilles was determined to rescue Jeanne, the maiden whose fate was intertwined with his own; he could not let her die. With tireless determination and indomitable impetus, he charged against the ruthless enemies, facing them head-on. Each step was a challenge to destiny, a bold denial of death itself.

While the deafening roar of cannons shattered the skies, tearing through the silence with their infernal fury, Gilles remained unshaken, absorbing the thunderous vibrations echoing in every fiber of his being. Each explosion was a brutal reminder of life's brevity, yet he rose above this destructive spectacle, fueled by unwavering conviction in his purpose.

His gaze, stubborn and incandescent, defied the chaos surrounding him. His indomitable spirit fueled the unextinguishable courage that burned in his chest, urging him to surpass the limits imposed by reason and fear. He became a force of nature, a furious cyclone defying the established order of the enemy, leaving a trail of destruction and despair in his wake.

Nothing could stop his heroic onslaught. Not the deafening explosions, not the suffocating smoke obscuring his vision, not even the bullets whizzing dangerously around him. Gilles was a being beyond mortality, a fearless entity that transcended human limitations and became a living embodiment of valor.

And thus, with every step taken, every blow struck, Gilles inscribed his own destiny in history. His name would be remembered by future generations as a symbol of courage and indomitable determination. For he was not just a man defying the perils of war, but a blazing flame that illuminated the path for those seeking freedom and redemption.

"Shit! Someone stop that bastard!" The desperate cry of a soldier echoed across the battlefield, filled with terror and reflecting the horror etched on his face. His eyes witnessed the terrifying scene of Gilles advancing mercilessly, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. The cannons roared in vain, their thunderous booms filling the air, while each shot failed to reach its target.

Determined, Guillaume broke the silence with a firm and resolute voice: "I will." His hands firmly gripped the silver spear, gleaming brightly. With unwavering audacity, he leaped from the fortress walls, defying the chaos unfolding below. He landed fearlessly in the midst of the turmoil, his eyes fixed on Gilles, whose body was covered in blood and sweat.

Guillaume courageously moved toward Gilles, thrusting with a piercing strike. The perception of danger flashed in Gilles' eyes, and he skillfully defended himself with his sword. The intense gaze between the two met, and Gilles, stunned, realized that it was Guillaume attacking him, wielding the spear that had once belonged to Rémy.

"You bastard! You betrayed us! How could you do this?" Gilles shouted, delivering a series of swift strikes, only to be skillfully defended by Guillaume. The way Guillaume defended himself created a disturbing illusion in Gilles, making him believe he was fighting Rémy.

"Betray? I was never part of your group or the French. How could I betray those I never even considered as comrades?" Guillaume responded, renewing his attack against Gilles, who retaliated with all his fury. Gilles felt an even stronger desire to eliminate Guillaume.

"You damn traitor! Everyone trusted you, but you betrayed us!" Gilles roared, making it clear in his expression that the betrayal was evident, and that Rémy was likely imprisoned alongside Jeanne. Gilles didn't know how Rémy could have been captured, but the idea of his death was unacceptable. He refused to believe Rémy could be so negligent.

"Well, I wasn't the only one." Guillaume retorted, a sinister smile forming on his face as he contemplated the anguish on Gilles' face. Gilles' eyes widened, as he could never imagine there would be more than one traitor. Before he could fully comprehend the plot, something cut through the air with impressive speed. Instinctively, Gilles dodged. It was an arrow, shot from the top of the city walls.

"François! How...?" Gilles was left speechless, disbelief etched on his face, as he had never suspected François. It had never crossed his mind that François could be the traitor. However, the reality before his eyes revealed that Guillaume and François had turned against them.

"Surprised, aren't you?" Guillaume mocked, adjusting the spear in his hand. It was the spear that had once belonged to Rémy but was now in Guillaume's possession. However, a wave of fury consumed him as he discovered he didn't possess Rémy's same invulnerability.

"You bastards! I will exterminate all of you!" Gilles, consumed by uncontrollable rage, relentlessly advanced towards Guillaume. But Guillaume didn't remain idle; he counterattacked and defended himself with skill. Ignoring Guillaume's blows, Gilles continued to strike with all his might. However, Guillaume displayed an impressive ability to protect himself.

Meanwhile, François, positioned atop the wall, shot arrows at Gilles. His eyes scanned the chaotic scene before him. French and English soldiers fell, losing their lives in the midst of the confrontation. François' heart tightened as he saw Jeanne, the woman he once cared for before betraying her and her beloved, consumed by the flames of the pyre. Her body was almost completely engulfed in fire.

But to François' surprise, Jeanne lifted her tear-stained face and met his gaze. Despite the agony, she opened her mouth to say something. The message reached François' ears, clear and intense. As a final gesture of gratitude, François bit his lower lip, a sign of determination. He had to interrupt this insane fight.

With a swift and precise motion, François pulled the bowstring with all his strength. His eyes fixed on Guillaume, the target chosen for his arrow. The projectile flew swiftly through the air, passing dangerously close to Guillaume, who displayed an expression of surprise and bewilderment.

"What the hell are you doing?" Guillaume shouted, his eyes transmitting icy coldness. Suspicion infiltrated his mind, thinking François would betray him at such a crucial moment. Guillaume even considered that François didn't care about his own family since if he betrayed Guillaume, François could say goodbye to his family.

"Gilles, gather your troops and depart immediately! The one you seek to save no longer breathes!" François shouted with an intensity that echoed across the imposing wall. The devastating revelation struck Gilles like an arrow to his core, shaking his soul. How could he trust the words of someone who had betrayed the entire French people? The soldiers around, witnessing the scene, were visibly desolate.

"You damn traitor! In addition to turning your back on us, now you want to annihilate our hope!" Gilles uttered, his fury overflowing with each word. His inner being was already inflamed with anger, but those words further stoked the fire of his resentment. François longed to descend from the wall and strike Gilles' face.

"She told me herself, you idiot! She no longer wants to see bloodshed in her name, not by someone who withers away or, in this case, has already perished." François shouted, his eyes filled with tears, struggling to hold them back. He wished to honor Jeanne's final wish and put an end to that endless battle.

"Guillaume!" François vociferated, capturing Guillaume's attention, hoping he would allow Gilles' entry. François was already preparing himself for a heated confrontation with Guillaume. However, to the surprise of everyone present, Guillaume cleared the way, allowing Gilles to enter the city.

"See for yourself! Only then will you believe François' words." Guillaume decided, granting Gilles the opportunity to witness the truth. Gilles looked at Guillaume, astonishment evident on his face. He had never imagined that man would allow his entry into the city.

"Move quickly, before I change my mind!" Guillaume exclaimed, visibly reluctant. He held respect for Jeanne, and that sentiment led him to interrupt the fight. The soldiers on both sides, witnessing that unexpected gesture, immediately ceased their clashes.

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