-165- A Different Reunion

"Swoosh!"

With a swift and decisive sound that breaks through the air, the massive eagle streaks across the space, soaring directly above the passageway. It leaves behind a whistling gust of wind and a whirlwind in its wake, moving at an astonishing speed.

"Fou!"

Fou stands at the front of the eagle's back, its small front paws gripping tightly onto the eagle's back. Bathed in the wind, its whole body seems on the verge of being blown away, swaying erratically.

Rozen and Jeanne also cling tightly to the eagle's back, doing their best to resist the wind's force and allowing the eagle to achieve maximum speed.

The gigantic eagle flies through the passageway, emerging into the outer hall.

"Huff... Huff... Huff..."

Inside the hall, the dragon continues to doze, its body slightly rising and falling. It remains deeply asleep, seemingly unaffected by the chaos caused by Jeanne and Black Jeanne's battle. Even as the enormous eagle soars over the hall, there's no sign of it awakening.

Rozen, who was mentally prepared for the dragon's awakening, sighs with relief upon witnessing this scene. Yet, his relief is quickly replaced by skepticism.

"While it's a good thing, isn't it quite unusual for it to sleep so soundly even amidst all this commotion?"

While dragons are known in various legends to be slothful, greedy, fierce, and even wise, it's surprising that one could sleep so deeply even in the midst of such a great disturbance. Is it really necessary for "Jeanne d'Arc Alter" to summon such a dragon to guard the hall.

"It has been put under a hypnosis spell. Unless the magic is undone, it's difficult for it to wake up."

That explains it.

Jeanne must have used her own knowledge of magic to infiltrate Jeanne Alter's room and cast a spell to hypnotize the dragon.

However...

"So, you still know magic?"

Rozen is somewhat surprised.

After all, he has never heard of Jeanne d'Arc, the savior of France, using magic.

While it might be different if it involves sacred rites of the Church, the mystique of magic is something Jeanne would rarely have encountered, right?

Could it be...

Just as Rozen starts to formulate a hypothesis, the eagle has already flown past the hall and is charging towards the castle's exterior.

"Roar!"

"Roar!"

At this moment, the sound of dragon roars fills the air.

It's not the voice of the dragon in the hall; rather, it's the voices of wyverns.

Countless wyverns are soaring towards them, roaring and diving towards the eagle and its passengers in an attempt to intercept their escape.

"Such a nuisance!"

Rozen raises his hand, ready to take action, but Jeanne by his side is quicker.

"Haa--!"

Jeanne swings her holy flag, holding it up in front of her.

"〈My Lord is Here (Luminosite Eternelle)〉!"

Jeanne once again releases her Noble Phantasm.

"Clang!"

Hazy golden light blossoms from the flag fluttering in the wind, enveloping the flying eagle and its occupants.

"Thud!" "Thud!" "Thud!" "Thud!" "Thud!"

The oncoming wyverns are suddenly repelled, each crashing against the hazy golden light as if colliding with an unyielding wall.

"Ugh..."

Jeanne, however, emits a groan, struggling to keep her composure.

"Please... please hurry! I can't hold on much longer!"

It seems that after her battle against Jeanne Alter, Jeanne's Noble Phantasm has accumulated too much damage. Now, even repelling the onslaught of wyverns is quite a struggle for her.

Rozen didn't say anything; he simply infused magic into his familiar below, boosting its speed once more. Like an arrow released from a bowstring, the familiar shot towards the castle's exterior. During this process, every wyvern that charged towards them was repelled by Jeanne's Noble Phantasm, with none of them able to touch the flying eagle.

The eagle continued its smooth flight without hindrance, leaving the castle and arriving at the chaotic square.

"————!"

Just as they flew out of the castle, Rozen's expression abruptly changed.

"Stop!"

Following Rozen's shout, the flying eagle suddenly came to a halt in mid-air, suspended in place.

This surprised Jeanne, who was maintaining the effect of her Noble Phantasm.

"What's..."

About to ask what was going on, Jeanne seemed to sense something and closed her mouth. She turned her head to look ahead.

There, a foreign object had entered this world.

"Didn't expect... really didn't expect..."

Under a voice that sounded like laughter and tears, like being moved and hated at the same time, a Servant dressed in loose robes and holding a grimoire appeared on the square.

He wasn't standing atop a wyvern like Black Jeanne, nor did he lead a dragon pack. However, he wasn't alone either.

"Gurgle..."

"Gurgle..."

Amidst rather repulsive squelching sounds, sea monsters emerged from underground like they were crawling out of sewers. They gathered around the summoner.

Led by the Servant holding the grimoire, this army of sea monsters stood on a larger sea monster's back. As the larger sea monster gradually rose, they ascended into the air, blocking Rozen and Jeanne's path.

"You are...!?"

Seeing this new Servant, Jeanne's expression changed.

A mixture of surprise and sadness spread across her face.

Rozen didn't notice this, but he recognized the identity of the Servant.

"Caster...!"

Who else could it be other than Caster?

But Caster paid Rozen no attention. His gaze was solely fixed on Jeanne.

"Ah... Jeanne... Our Saint..."

Caster trembled with what seemed like heartfelt emotion. His words came out trembling and unclear.

"You still shine like before, as holy as before. I really didn't expect, I really didn't expect... to meet you in this situation. Is this the curse of the gods? It's truly hateful!"

From seeming touched, he spiraled into a state of hate, his voice growing frantic.

His appearance made it difficult to believe he was a magus; he looked more like a berserker.

Rozen indeed sensed little magical presence from him.

However, from the grimoire in Caster's hand, Rozen detected an astonishing amount of magic.

It was a grimoire made as if bound in human skin, with the skin's surface featuring the anguished face of a screaming person.

"A grimoire for summoning sea monsters..."

Rozen seemed to understand Caster's identity, his eyes showing a mix of astonishment and quiet awe.

For Jeanne, looking at Caster in a state of apparent frenzy, it felt as if she were looking at her own sin. She solemnly called out his name.

"Gilles..."

Gilles de Rais.

Her most trusted friend, subordinate, and companion before her death.

The Caster before them was none other than Gilles de Rais.

Not the present-day Gilles leading the French army, but the Gilles who had long since died, becoming a Heroic Spirit like Jeanne. He had been summoned to the era and country of his lifetime, just like her, as a Servant manifesting in this singularity. He was an enemy, a Caster.

"Oh... oh oh oh...!"

Caster's eyes welled up with tears of extreme emotion, and he reached out his hand towards Jeanne.

"Oh, Saint... my Saint... if you just call my name... at any time... I'll always...!"

Caster continued to pour out his words.

The only thing unchanged was his savage frenzy.