Gil de Rey, who was fighting and retreating, heard Black Joan's roar and became extremely anxious.
Gritting his teeth, Gil de Rey's magic power went toward the human skin book in his hand, which was his Noble Phantasm Prelati's Spellbook.
At the same time, a devilish laughter burst from his mouth.
"Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!"
The sea demons in the corridor suddenly proliferated, becoming larger, stronger, and tougher.
The bodies of the sea demon and the sea demon grow together, and the connection grows while multiplying.
In the end, a thick wall of flesh formed in front of Matthew and Camila.
Gil de Rey said expressionlessly to the two of them through the gap in the flesh wall: "Please don't disturb my banquet with the Saint, you bastards."
The wall of flesh came together, and Gilles de Rey turned away.
"Miss Camilla, what should we do now?" Matthew asked anxiously.
"Calm down, Kirilet." Camilla was equally anxious, but she didn't have a good solution for a while.
Simonetta stood swaying.
However, as a reliable adult woman, she knows that the most important thing at this time is not to be too anxious, otherwise she will definitely get into trouble.
After a simple observation, Camilla discovered that although these sea demons were tougher and their regeneration speed was greatly increased, at the price, their desire to attack was greatly reduced, and they only stood here as a barrier.
"There is no good way now. Let's force a breakthrough. Since these sea demons regenerate very quickly, we should break through before they regenerate."
"Yes! I understand." Matthew answered energetically.
While there was chaos outside, the two Joans of Arc were also fighting fiercely inside the hall.
But it can be clearly felt that although Black Joan is angry, she always gives people the feeling of being strong on the outside but strong on the inside.
It's not that he is strong on the outside but weak on the inside.
But other aspects.
Although evil, there is no reason for evil; although it is violent, there is no basis for violence.
Angry at Joan of Arc's fate, the brutal ruler who burned the whole of France, Black Joan of Arc, actually has no memory of Joan of Arc.
For Black Jeanne and Jeanne d'Arc, this is a huge and unfounded malice.
During the battle and communication, Joan had long seen the existence of Black Joan.
It is like a rootless duckweed, a fragile way of existence that cannot withstand any form of destruction.
Ping——
"Damn it, you..." Black Joan's evil dragon flag was bounced away. Just as he was about to fight back again, he saw the tip of the French flag already very close at hand.
Poof——
Accompanied by Joan's sigh and determination.
Black Joan's chest was directly pierced.
A trace of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, and Black Jeanne looked down blankly.
Himself... impaled?
Are you...dying?
Gil de Rey, who happened to arrive at the door, happened to see this scene.
"Joan of Arc!!!"
The sudden roar startled Fujimaru Ritsuka, who had been carrying Lawrence carrying ninety pounds for a long time but was not tired at all.
I saw Gil de Rey running towards Black Joan.
Jeanne remained silent and pulled out the tip of her spear.
Black Jeanne nearly fell down as she was being led away, covering the hole in her chest with a dull look on her face.
After shaking, Black Jeanne seemed to fall to the ground, but fell into a broad embrace.
She looked up.
Gilles de Rey's strange face was filled with tears of sadness.
But there was no surprise or anger.
"Jill..." Blood was hanging from the corner of Black Jeanne's mouth.
The spiritual core has been broken, and exit is inevitable.
"Don't worry, I will pick you back soon." Gil de Rey allowed himself to smile, even if it was a smile with tears, "Leave the rest to me."
Black Joan was stunned for a moment, and her body began to glow with golden light.
"Yes, I trust you the most, Jill..."
"I'll leave the rest to you..."
The golden light fell, and the small figure held in Gil de Rey's arms turned into golden magic particles and dissipated in the air.
This woman who burned all of France with the flames of hatred and anger finally came to an end.
"Jill." Jeanne called softly.
After Black Joan dissipated, something was left behind in her body.
The golden cup, the Holy Grail.
Gilles de Rey took the Holy Grail in his hands and stood up.
"Ah, Holy Virgin, I know what you are going to say." The strange man held the Holy Grail and looked at Joan of Arc, the real Holy Virgin, the saint of salvation of France, Joan of Arc.
After finally breaking through the wall of flesh, Matthew, Simonetta and Camilla rushed over and saw Gil de Rey holding the Holy Grail.
"She's not you."
"I know."
"She is just my long-cherished wish." Gil de Rey cried, smiled, but spoke to Joan of Arc in a calm tone.
"She does not exist on the Seat of Heroic Spirits. She is just an imaginary servant created by the Holy Grail through me and through my wish, Gil de Rey."
"Joan of Arc, holy virgin."
Gilles de Rey kept talking.
In addition to Jeanne, Ritsuka Fujimaru, Camilla, Mashu and Simonetta were also listening.
The overall situation has been decided, and it would be good to let the enemy retreat without any resentment.
"Ever since you died, I've been thinking about a question."
"Why are you the one who died? You were so pure, so great, and so dazzling."
"You led France, led us, ushered in one victory after another, brought countless glory to France, and avoided the end of destruction."
"In the end, why did you have such an unfair ending?"
Gil de Rei's tone was obviously calm, but everyone present felt the pressure like a volcano.
"...So, do you hate this country so much, Jill?" Joan sighed.
"Yes, hatred, hatred, hatred, anger, these are all my emotions, all the emotions after your death." Gil de Rey said seriously.
"You are a saint of God, but God turns a blind eye to your death." His expression gradually became ferocious and terrifying, "So, holy virgin, I want to become evil and dirty, I want to Go question those bastard gods, I want to blaspheme!"
"Are you angry? Holy Virgin."
The windows were open, and the wind was blowing Joan of Arc's French flag.
"Won't."
"...What?" Gil de Rey was stunned.
"For you, and only for you, Jill, I will never feel angry." Joan of Arc smiled gently.
"Is it because of the damn oracle?"
"No, it's just that I, an incompetent saint, can't get angry at my friend who has followed me since I was young until my death, and even after my death, I was willing to do it for my blasphemous general." Joan of Arc answered extremely seriously .
