Type-Moon Traveler's Enemy

"Wait! Let me go!"

"Noisy!"

Joan of Arc silently watched a soldier begging for mercy and surrendering, and then being shot to death by an enemy soldier. She turned her gaze to the battlefield. It was a scene she was already accustomed to.

Cold, cruel, and ruthless, the battlefield was littered with blood and corpses.

Shakespeare sighed, his tone serious, but his words hinted at sarcasm: "You are truly stained with blood, Your Highness the Saint."

"It's useless for me to see anything." Looking at the battlefield, Joan of Arc had a heart as hard as steel and responded to Shakespeare calmly.

When she stepped onto the battlefield, she was already aware of it.

"Since those who follow me have stained their hands, my hands are already filthy." Joan of Arc looked at her hands, which were covered in blood. "I have never felt any fear about this."

Joan of Arc clenched her fists firmly. At this moment, among the corpses in front of her, one suddenly transformed into Shakespeare, dressed in conspicuous and gorgeous clothes like the king's messenger, and sat up. "Then let me ask you as Charles VII's agent!"

As soon as the words fell, another corpse with an arrow in the heart turned into Shakespeare and said: "You stood up, went to the battlefield, stained your hands with blood, and won back France."

Another corpse took on the appearance of Shakespeare and said, "And then, very sadly, was burned at the stake in the end."

Joan of Arc felt that Shakespeare was everywhere at this moment, and she looked around with a serious expression.

Shakespeare, with a sword piercing his heart from the side, said: "To me, this is betrayal!"

Joan of Arc was unmoved by this. She had already figured out what Shakespeare said and she had no regrets. If it were just this, she would not be moved at all.

The Shakespeares around him started to speak.

"tragedy!"

"despair!"

"Even so, do you still believe in the Lord? Do you still think fighting is meaningful?"

"Of course, my death is a fate I never intended to escape." Joan of Arc answered as a matter of course, her faith was extremely firm.

Joan of Arc held the banner horizontally and declared her realization: "From the moment I raised this banner, I lost the right to die peacefully in my hometown."

She had already completely accepted her fate. From the moment she stood up to save France as a village girl, she had long understood what her fate would be.

After hearing Joan of Arc's firm and unwavering words, Shakespeare knew that there was no point in asking any further questions, and the effect of this performance was enough, so it was time to move on to the next one.

Then, one of the corpses raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and this scene ended and the next began.

The curtain opened, and the scene showed Joan of Arc, dressed in white, on her way to be burned at the stake.

The moment Joan of Arc saw the scene clearly, she said with disgust, "This is so bad."

What else can you do by repeating your own experience of being burned at the stake except disgust yourself?

Shakespeare, the cavalryman on horseback clutching the chains, turned back and said, "Ah, no, I'm terribly sorry, it was the costumer's mistake."

Hearing this, Joan of Arc looked up at Shakespeare in confusion: "Huh?"

Shakespeare said, "Because the character who is to be burned at the stake is already on the stage."

As she got closer, the people surrounding the stake made some space for her. Joan of Arc immediately noticed Sieg, who looked up at her approaching. "What?!"

At this moment, the astonished Joan of Arc began to panic and quickly trotted forward: "Stop it!"

As she was about to reach the stake, a torch was thrown up. Joan of Arc seemed to want to push the torch away. Shakespeare quickly pulled the chain back to prevent Joan of Arc from reaching the stake: "Oops! It is forbidden to touch the actors!"

The fire started, and Sieg, who was burned by the flames on the stake, looked ahead with lifeless eyes, without any screams.

"Stop it, please stop! Stop it!" Joan of Arc asked the priest Shakespeare beside her, unable to accept it: "Why don't you burn me, but burn him?!"

Hearing what Joan of Arc said, the priest Shakespeare turned his head and looked at Joan of Arc: "Oh, is this what you did?"

Hearing this question, Jeanne was confused. She couldn't remember when she had done such a thing. "Huh?"

Shakespeare turned and said to Jeanne, holding the book: "I'm sorry, but the basis of our Noble Phantasm is all your memories!"

Shakespeare handed the book to Joan of Arc, and when she retreated in fear and confusion, he said passionately: "In other words, it is not I who want to kill him, but you!"

"No!" Jeanne refuted firmly, turning her head to look at Sieg who was being burned. Seeing Sieg's miserable appearance, her pupils shrank: "I never thought of such a thing! Ah..."

Shakespeare smiled and looked towards the corner of the street where soldiers were guarding it. "What about him?"

"Who?!" Joan of Arc was completely panicked when she heard this question. Who else?

bang~

On the side where Shakespeare was looking, Mo Li wielded his Fang Tian Hua Ji to cut open the house, breaking through the soldiers' blockade and rushing towards Joan of Arc.

Mo Li rushed over and yelled, "Joan of Arc! I'm here to save you!"

Joan of Arc was panicked: "This, this..."

Shakespeare said meaningfully: "He is your friend, who has helped you solve many problems. Now, he wants to rush into this execution ground to rescue you, but can he really rescue you?"

Jeanne's pupils couldn't stop trembling: "What?!"

As Mo Li was moving forward, three different figures rushed out from three different directions to stop him: Karna in golden armor, Achilles driving a chariot, and Cu Chulainn Alter with a mad look.

The four of them immediately started fighting, from the ground to the sky, with no clear winner.

"How could this be..." Joan of Arc watched in a daze as Mo Li fought with the three men. At the beginning, Mo Li had the upper hand, but the three heroes who blocked him gradually suppressed him after becoming familiar with the cooperation.

"Helping friends is one of the virtues of the Chinese. He helped you a lot in this Holy Grail War."

"So if the next war you participate in involves a true battlefield of gods, will he still be able to solve the problem if he is willing to help you?"

"Sooner or later, helping you will put him in a dangerous and desperate situation. Just like those who believed in you and rallied under your banner, only to be tragically betrayed, they will inevitably encounter unpredictable and fatal crises."

"When you are about to die, will you long for your friends to save you but risk dying with them because you are in dire straits, or will you not want your friends to save you and die with them?"

Zhendace looked at Qiqihar who was gradually being suppressed, unable to accept it: "No...it shouldn't be like this..."

Hearing Joan of Arc's desperate whisper, Shakespeare smiled at her and snapped his fingers: "The Final Act!"