Chapter 67
Rémy is huddled, leaning against the wall of the abyss he and John caused with their final blow. His body is marked by painful wounds, and deep exhaustion dominates him. The spear has drained the last drop of energy he had to close the wounds on his torn body. Breathing heavily, Rémy searches within himself for a final reserve of determination. He knows he cannot fail, as he made a solemn promise to help the citizens of that city, and he is willing to fulfill that promise no matter the cost.
With trembling hands, Rémy uses the spear as a fragile support against the wall of the abyss. He begins to crawl, moving with effort and determination. Every movement is torture, every inch gained is a hard-fought battle against pain and exhaustion. With each step, he gets a little closer to the top of the abyss, while his bloodied hand reaches out, searching for a crevice, a ledge to help him escape this infernal abyss.
Finally, Rémy emerges from the abyss, dragging himself out with one last Herculean effort. His body is ravaged, his mind dulled by exhaustion. But he knows he cannot waste time. He knows the soldiers have likely surrounded the French citizens, and he is their only hope. With his strength stretched to the limit, Rémy struggles to stand, planting his feet on the challenging ground. A mixture of pain, resilience, and determination shines on his face, and with his eyes fixed on the horizon, he prepares to face whatever lies ahead.
"Let's go!" exclaimed a woman, holding a child in her arms, addressing the people accompanying her. Her tone of voice denoted urgency and determination. "Where should we go? The fight seems to have ceased," inquired a man, leaving the woman somewhat hesitant, unsure of what to do: stay or leave. After a brief pause, she made a decision. "Let's go. There are still English soldiers around here," she declared, seeking a solution that seemed most sensible to her at that moment.
However, before they could move away, a considerable number of English soldiers began to appear. They had already captured people from other areas of the city, and now, with many gathered, their job would become easier. The sight of these soldiers instilled despair among the French, who panicked.
The English soldiers, ready to attack and capture the French, were suddenly interrupted by a deafening roar. Rémy, leaning against the wall, struck a blow that opened a hole in the structure of the house. The impact and audacity of his action surprised the English soldiers, who quickly concluded that if Rémy was there, their commander was probably dead. Despite his critical condition, Rémy commanded respect and fear, even in the eyes of the English.
"I will tell you only once: leave this place," Rémy responded with difficulty, struggling to catch his breath. Although his strength was compromised, he was willing to fight if necessary. His gaze conveyed unwavering determination.
The soldier in command remained silent, aware that he needed to make a decision. Observing Rémy's critical state, a result of his fight against the English commander, the soldier pondered: would they be able to eliminate him? This uncertainty, coupled with the fear of losing his soldiers, haunted his mind. In the end, he chose to retreat and ordered his men to withdraw.
"Release the other people you have captured!" The furious cry of a citizen pierced the air, reaching the ears of the retreating English army. The impact of the words was instant, forcing the soldiers to stop in their tracks. The commander, with a serious expression, turned his gaze toward the brave individual who dared to challenge him.
Without hesitation, Rémy emerged from the shadow of the wall he was leaning against. His determined steps echoed through the tense air as he approached the soldier and the apprehensive citizens. Rémy's voice cut through the silence, filled with firmness and determination.
"Release the people you have captured!" His words thundered, resonating in the minds of those who heard him. The soldier, feeling the pressure and conviction in Rémy's voice, ordered his subordinates to immediately release those who had been detained. In response, the soldiers complied and silently withdrew, dissipating into the distance.
A sigh of relief passed through the lips of the woman leading the group of citizens. She approached, along with the other grateful residents, to express their gratitude. However, they still didn't know the name of the hero who had restored their freedom. Curious, they asked him.
"Rémy, my name is Rémy," he replied, his voice soft and weary, yet filled with humility. The citizens exchanged surprised looks, unable to contain the gratitude and admiration they felt for the courageous man before them.
"You deserve our thanks, Rémy," said one of the citizens, their tone overflowing with compassionate appreciation. "Allow us to help you, at least a little. You don't seem well."
Rémy's eyes met the concerned gaze of the citizen, and for a brief moment, he hesitated. But with a gesture of refusal, he straightened himself and nodded gently.
"Don't worry about me," he whispered, struggling against the exhaustion that overwhelmed him. "I just need a moment to rest... nothing more. You can carry on with your lives."
With faltering steps, Rémy approached a nearby wall and, with a deep sigh, allowed himself to sink into it. His eyes closed gently, enveloping him in a well-deserved repose. The citizens looked at each other, their hearts filled with apprehension. It seemed that the valiant arm that saved them was on the verge of exhaustion, fighting to survive right there.
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As the sun set over the city of Orleans, Griffin ran desperately toward the tent where Jeanne was. His heart pounded, and anxiety showed on his sweaty face. "Miss Jeanne!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the silent landscape. The young warrior, intrigued by the urgency in his voice, emerged from the tent in search of answers. Her inquisitive eyes met Griffin's, seeking to understand what was happening.
"Miss Jeanne, Antoine hasn't shown up yet..." Griffin said, struggling to control the worry in his voice. Time seemed suspended as they waited for news of Antoine, who should have returned long ago. The plan was clear: Antoine was supposed to stealthily attack the English from behind as they retreated. But how could they face an army alone, with so few allies remaining? It was vital that they diminish the enemy troops by catching them off guard.
Determination gleamed in Jeanne's eyes, despite the confusion that filled her mind. "I will go there," she declared, her voice firm and resolute. Her courage inspired those around her. Without hesitation, Griffin offered to accompany her on her journey. The young heroine didn't refuse, understanding that every ally was valuable in this battle for the liberation of Orleans.
As they hurried, Jeanne and Griffin's movements caught the attention of some soldiers. Curious glances fell upon the determined pair, eager to discover why they were departing so suddenly. Jeanne, lost in her thoughts, didn't respond to the lingering questions in the air. Reaching their horses, she mounted gracefully, exuding confidence and leadership.
With the sound of hooves pounding against the ground, Jeanne and Griffin set off, leaving behind the city of Orleans. Their destiny awaited them beyond the gates, where Antoine was supposed to be. Each step was infused with determination and courage as they ventured into the uncertainty of the night. United by a greater purpose, Jeanne and Griffin advanced toward the unknown, ready to face any challenges they encountered along their path.
It didn't take long for them to finally reach the location where Antoine was supposed to be. As they approached, Jeanne noticed a swarm of flies around. A bad feeling started to form within her, as if something terrible was about to be revealed. Griffin also sensed the sinister atmosphere and quickened his pace.
When confronted with the wreckage of scattered soldiers in the forest, Griffin couldn't contain his indignation. "Damn it!" he exclaimed, his eyes fixed on the dismembered remains. Among those remains, he spotted Antoine's head, even though it was mangled. "You said you would survive... it seems like you lied," he vented, addressing the shattered head of his friend. As frustration overwhelmed him, Griffin felt a hand land on his shoulder. He turned and saw Jeanne looking at him, her expression reflecting deep sadness. "Let's bury them... Today I expected a joyful day, but it won't be like that," Jeanne said, her voice choked with emotion. Then, she withdrew her hand from Griffin's shoulder.
Jeanne began gathering the soldiers' remains, indifferent to the fact that they had been dead for some time. Determined, she and Griffin completed the task of collecting the fallen comrades' remains and gave them a dignified burial. After a moment of solemn silence, they mounted their horses and set out on their return to Orleans.
"Will I die like this in the war, before becoming a noble?" Griffin wondered aloud, as if speaking to himself, although his question was directed at Jeanne. He longed to know her opinion, seeking some comfort amidst the chaos.
"Yes... I believe so," Jeanne replied, pronouncing the words with a fragile smile. "But don't expect me to fulfill all the promises. I'm not very good at that." Jeanne's smile revealed deep sadness, making Griffin realize that she was suffering more than he was. Although he didn't have an intimate knowledge of Antoine, Griffin had developed a friendship with him, however brief. However, Jeanne didn't even know him, just like the other soldiers who were there. Her ability to feel pain and sorrow for unknown people impressed and, at the same time, frightened Griffin, leaving him perplexed by the complexity and compassion of Jeanne's heart.
Griffin felt profound anguish as he tried to articulate his words. While he wanted to express his feelings, he realized that deep down in his heart, he blamed her for Antoine's death. It was a painful internal struggle, as he knew it was unfair to hold her responsible, but his pain and frustration became difficult to contain. Yet, Griffin remained silent, concealing his hurt and reproach.
On her part, Jeanne carried a heavy burden of guilt. With each mistake made, she intensely blamed herself, and the deaths of the soldiers and Antoine deeply affected her. It was as if an unbearable weight settled on her chest, tormenting her conscience. As she walked, Jeanne plunged into a sea of self-reproach, questioning her decisions and lamenting the tragic outcome that unfolded. However, amidst this whirlwind of emotions, only one concern dominated her thoughts: Rémy. Her mind was restless, desperately wishing to know if he was okay.
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