Sensitive Little Sister / England's Dragons / Charles VII Yearns for a Saint

[You could hardly believe the words you had just heard—what did "England's dragons" even mean?]

[But you understood that now that things had come to this, Charles VII wouldn't say useless words.]

[You realized that the current situation in France was perhaps far worse than it appeared on the surface.]

[You fell into contemplation.]

Compared to her older brother's contemplative appearance, Jeanne looked much more bewildered.

She didn't even immediately grasp the significance of Charles VII's words.

However, the girl knew that it was wrong for the Crown Prince to kneel before her no matter what.

"Please rise, Your Highness," Jeanne said gently, her blue eyes looking at him with concern.

"Continuing like this will make people feel very uncomfortable," she added softly.

Hearing Jeanne's words, Charles VII slowly stood up.

He was a thin man, and the purple noble clothes he wore didn't seem to fit him very well.

He looked tired, and his eyes were bloodshot—he clearly hadn't rested well for a long time.

However, although he looked quite terrible, even somewhat disheveled.

Charles VII seemed very excited at this moment.

He was like someone who had been trapped in darkness for a long time, suddenly seeing the light he had been hoping for.

"God bless France!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with emotion.

"I've finally waited for you, Saint!" he continued, his eyes shining with hope.

"My perseverance has truly paid off!!!" he declared, his voice triumphant.

After saying a series of grateful words, Charles VII finally noticed Pierre beside Jeanne.

"And this is...?" he inquired, his gaze turning to Pierre.

Before Pierre had a chance to answer Charles VII's question, Jeanne took her older brother's arm first.

Her face was slightly red, and she looked shy and bashful, very innocent.

But the girl's tone when answering this question was incredibly firm, as if it were something destined.

"Your Highness, this is my beloved," Jeanne declared, her blue eyes looking up at Pierre with affection.

After saying these words, Jeanne glanced sideways, secretly observing her older brother's reaction.

And the latter naturally understood his younger sister's little thoughts; he smiled slightly and acquiesced to this statement.

"The Saint's beloved?!" Charles VII, realizing this, immediately cast an equally respectful gaze towards Pierre.

His words were filled with irrepressible excitement.

"Good! Excellent!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with delight.

"The Saint's beloved must also be a saint!" he declared, his voice filled with awe.

"Two saints appearing here at the same time... the Lord is helping us!" he concluded, his gaze looking towards the sky.

"God bless France!" he repeated, his voice filled with gratitude.

However, facing this praise from Charles VII, Pierre didn't become arrogant or lose his sense of proportion.

"Your Highness... I am not a saint," Pierre said, taking a step back and subtly pushing Jeanne forward a little.

"She is the saint," he clarified, his gaze gentle.

"And—" The boy looked around at his surroundings.

"Shouldn't we not be standing on the bridge all the time?" he suggested calmly.

"Ah, you're right!" Charles VII slapped his forehead, then turned around and ordered the soldiers behind him.

"Escort the Saint and the Saint's beloved into the city!"

[At Charles VII's gesture, you and Jeanne were escorted forward by the French soldiers.]

[This kind of attitude could be said to be unprecedented.]

[You realized that Charles VII valued you greatly.]

[You entered the Château de Chinon—the only thing in Bourges and the surrounding area that still resembled a symbol of rule.]

[You and Jeanne received the highest level of hospitality here.]

[But... it didn't seem very ideal.]

Looking at the food before him, Pierre's expression looked a little heavy.

Although it was already the "highest level of hospitality," the few dishes served still looked very meager.

Charles VII certainly understood this as well.

He immediately shouted:

"What do you mean by this! This is the saint who can save France and her beloved! How can you serve them such things?!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with anger.

"Take it away and bring something better!" he ordered, his gaze sharp.

The maid who was reprimanded showed a troubled expression at this moment.

"But Your Highness... this is already the best we could find," she confessed, her voice barely audible.

"This..." Charles VII's expression turned a little awkward for a moment.

The excitement of welcoming Jeanne had almost made him forget his predicament—France was not as wealthy as it used to be.

"Your Highness, it's okay~" Jeanne picked up the food from the plate and smiled slightly.

"Having food like this is already very good!" she said gently, her blue eyes looking at him.

"Right, Brother... Monsieur Pierre?" she added, glancing at Pierre.

Pierre certainly wouldn't contradict his younger sister.

He quickly nodded in agreement.

"Yes, having food like this is already very good," he affirmed, a gentle smile on his lips.

"And—" The boy looked at Charles VII, a sharp glint in his eyes.

"More than food or anything else, the Saint and I are more concerned about what Your Highness meant by 'England's dragons,'" he said calmly, his gaze direct.

"I see," Charles VII sighed quite heavily—he knew the other party was giving him a way out.

"I understand," he said, his voice grave.

"The thing... is like this."

[Charles VII told you and Jeanne about the situation regarding "England's dragons."]

[This was an era where magic existed, and it was also an era where dragons existed.]

[The mysteries of both sides were intertwined in this war.]

[England had tamed several powerful dragons in some unknown way and deployed them on the battlefield.]

[This was undoubtedly a devastating blow to France—after all, humans were very fragile in front of dragons, even with the enhancement of magic.]

[Because of this, the French army was completely unable to fight back in the war and suffered repeated defeats.]

[This was also why Charles VII was so excited—because Jeanne had "actually" driven away a dragon.]

[In other words, she, who had a "special attack" against dragons, was the hope of this war.]

[Listening to these words, you realized that the situation seemed to have gone beyond your control.]

"In short, this is our current situation," Charles VII said, truthfully revealing the dire circumstances as he looked at the two people before him.

"Saint, and Saint's beloved, you are the only hope for this war," he declared, his voice filled with desperation.

"Please, save France!" he pleaded, his gaze earnest.

Jeanne was just about to answer Charles VII, but Pierre stopped her.

He looked at the Crown Prince, who had made a sincere request, and said calmly.

"Can you give us some time to think about it?" he asked, his gaze steady.

"..."

A trace of disappointment flashed in Charles VII's eyes, but he still nodded very respectfully.

"I understand," he said, his voice gentle.

"This is indeed not something that can be decided in a short time—so, please rest first," he suggested, his gaze kind.

[Charles VII arranged the best room for you.]

[It was a place in the castle that overlooked the entire situation in Chinon.]

The room was large and luxurious.

Clearly, just like the food earlier.

Charles VII had racked his brains to treat the saint who had finally come to his side as well as possible.

Pierre began to feel some sympathy for this Crown Prince who had been "deprived" of his inheritance.

He was really trying hard.

However—

That sympathy only lasted for a little while.

Because he cared more about his younger sister.

Pierre came to his younger sister's side—she was leaning against the large window in the room, looking at the scenery outside, but her eyes looked a little lost.

He couldn't help but ask:

"Jeanne."

"What are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at the people of Chinon..." Jeanne's gaze surveyed the situation near the castle.

"They are also living very badly," she said softly, her blue eyes filled with sorrow.

Just as Jeanne had said.

Chinon at this moment, although nominally the area directly ruled by Charles VII, was actually just the last dying gasp of France.

Everywhere on the street, you could see ordinary people who had paid a heavy price for this war.

They lay in the streets and alleys of Chinon in tattered clothes, chewing on black bread that had probably gone bad for several days.

Wine bottles rolled crookedly on the dark streets, making everything look particularly desolate.

Even without reaching his younger sister's level of kindness, Pierre felt a pang of pity in his heart.

"It's indeed quite bad," he agreed softly.

"But... His Highness will definitely find a way to handle all of this, right?" he asked, his gaze gentle.

"Really?" Jeanne's expression looked a little complicated.

"I always feel like it's not that easy," she confessed, her blue eyes filled with worry.

[You realized that if things continued like this, Jeanne's mood would definitely drop again.]

[You didn't want to see your younger sister looking worried.]

[You decided to use the same trick again.]

"Jeanne," Pierre said, following Jeanne's gaze to the heartbreaking scene outside the window.

"Jeanne... I hope you not look outside," he requested gently.

"Eh?!" Jeanne turned her head back, her deep blue eyes filled with surprise.

"Can't look?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"Mmm," Pierre nodded. "Because Brother has something else he wants to ask you, can he?" he inquired gently.

"..."

Jeanne nodded shyly.

"Of course... if it's Brother, it's no problem," she said softly, her cheeks slightly flushed.

And so—

In the best room of the Château de Chinon, the little nun who was considered a saint stood by the window.

To completely divert her attention.

Her eyes were covered with a black cloth strip, and she couldn't see anything clearly anymore.

However—

Even like this, she still put on a serious praying expression, looking very devout.

If anyone saw her appearance now, they would probably agree even more with the identity of the saint on her.

But this kind of thing would never happen.

Because no one would have time to pay attention to a window in the castle.

After all—

Just living was already an exhausting effort.

Pierre took a deep breath and gently hugged his younger sister, saying in her ear.

"Jeanne, Brother..."

"I know~" Jeanne replied sweetly. "Brother doesn't have to worry about me," she reassured him gently.

With his younger sister's permission, Pierre once again transformed into an adventurer.

(T/N: Like the one who explored the cave Morgan le fay,,)

He recalled the times he had spent in Domremy village—two gardens full of tangled branches that no one had ever entered.

Now they were vividly reproduced by his younger sister.

However—

Explorer Pierre found that they were still slightly different from the beautiful places in his memory.

For example, in the back garden at this moment, with every step taken to find a branch, there was a bit more swaying in the gentle morning breeze.

"Jeanne, what are you..." Pierre began, his voice filled with surprise.

"I don't know either..." Jeanne's response during prayer sounded very shy. "It seems like because I feel Brother is by my side, I'm a little nervous," she confessed softly, her cheeks flushed.

So it was all his fault.

"Then—" A hint of apology arose in Pierre's heart.

"Does Brother need to compensate you for something?" he asked gently.

"Eh... can this also be compensated?" Jeanne asked, her blue eyes looking up at him with curiosity.

"I don't know... but it seems like we can try?" Pierre suggested, a playful smile on his lips.

"Then... please let Brother try," Jeanne said shyly, her cheeks flushed.

But the reality proved that the two siblings had thought too simply.

The wind blowing and the grass moving was a simple thing that conformed to natural laws.

But the reverse was not the case—the wind blowing and the grass not moving was not so easy to achieve.

Fortunately, the warmth between the siblings was enough to offset all of this.

After much effort, the forbidden act began again and the Deviant Rod could finally enter and exit that quiet sacred garden, everything like that incomparably beautiful afternoon from the past.

Listening to the melodious sound like a bird's chirping, Pierre knew that his younger sister's attention would once again be diverted.

However—

Jeanne, who had been maintaining a praying posture all along, spoke at this moment:

"Brother... there's something I want to do," she said softly, her blue eyes looking up at him.

"What is it?" Pierre asked gently, his gaze kind.

"It's just..." Jeanne's body trembled slightly, a reaction she had when she was afraid her older brother wouldn't allow it.

"I want to agree to His Highness's request," she declared, her blue eyes filled with determination.

"Are you saying you want to go and drive away all those English dragons for him?" Pierre asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Yes," Jeanne nodded. "That's what I want to do," she affirmed, her blue eyes looking at him with resolve.

[From knowing about this to agreeing, Jeanne had only spent a few hours with you.]

[You realized that the method you had always used to divert her attention might have failed at this moment.]

Pierre's mood was quite complicated.

After a long silence, he asked again;

"Then—"

"Aren't you worried?" he inquired, his voice filled with concern.

"Worried?" Jeanne repeated, her brow furrowed.

"Mmm," Pierre's tone held a bit more of an older brother's concern for his younger sister.

"Those are specially tamed dragons, right? You... aren't you afraid of being killed by them?" he asked, his gaze worried.

"I'm afraid," Jeanne replied softly, her blue eyes looking down.

"But I'm even more afraid of everyone losing hope—after all, only I can drive away dragons, right?" she said, her voice barely audible.

"If even I don't take action, everyone... will definitely give up resisting," she added, her blue eyes filled with sorrow.

"That way—"

"France will really be finished," she concluded, her voice filled with despair.

"..."

Pierre was taken aback.

He realized that his younger sister had completed a spiritual sublimation during all the hardships along the way.

She was getting closer and closer to the idea of saving the country...

Pierre hesitated again and again, finally asking a question.

"Jeanne, are you really planning to do this?" he inquired, his gaze earnest.

"Mmm," Jeanne nodded firmly.

[The moment you heard this answer, you knew that everything was irreversible.]

[Jeanne never made her choices lightly.]

[But once she made them, she would never change her mind.]

[Her will was far more determined than you had imagined.]

"I understand," Pierre finally couldn't bring himself to forcibly forbid his younger sister from doing this.

"Since you've decided to do this... I will support you," he promised, a gentle smile on his lips.

"That's great~ I love Brother the most!" Jeanne exclaimed happily, her blue eyes sparkling.

Late at night.

Looking at Jeanne sleeping peacefully beside him, Pierre's expression was both happy and worried.

He held the pendant around his neck.

That familiar voice then sounded.

"It seems like it's been a long time since you last looked for me... it looks like there's an emergency?" Fafnir inquired, his voice calm.

"Yeah," Pierre said, looking at the pendant in his hand that concealed his dragon side.

"Fafnir."

"I... probably have to turn into a dragon again," he concluded, his gaze determined.