Vol. 2 Chapter 58: Who is this Handsome Guy

Meanwhile, time resumed its natural flow.

At the riverbank, under the utterly shattered gazes of Jeanne and the others, the projection of a Great Old One capable of effortlessly obliterating Japan had just been defeated—by a seemingly innocent young girl who had pulled a fishing boat out from under her skirt.

Every piece of this incident, taken on its own, was enough to upend someone's worldview.

But when all three elements collided in real time…

Jeanne and the others couldn't even remember their own names for a moment.

After Nyarlathotep had driven the Cthulhu projection back into its portal with her boat, the vessel dropped onto the raging surface of the Mion River, and the strange gate dissipated.

They even thought they heard a faint sigh echoing from beyond the world—from Alaya and Gaia themselves.

As the portal faded, its sustaining power was revealed: a sigil carved with Nyarlathotep's elder mark exploded into gray ash. And from the sky, Caster—Gilles de Rais, holding his Necronomicon—fell limply, crashing face-first onto the prow of Nyarlathotep's boat with a resounding thud.

Nyarlathotep blew the ship's horn—woo-woo—and slowly steered the boat toward the bank where Jeanne and the others stood.

Jeanne exchanged a look with Kirie Kagarino, then led the group to the edge of the embankment.

As the boat arrived, Nyarlathotep hopped out, tossed the anchor with a clank, and secured the vessel to shore.

Right then, a space portal opened beside the boat—Dracula and Cthugha stepped through.

Nyarlathotep bounded over to Dracula and gave him a salute.

"Reporting in, Commander! Nyarlathotep has successfully repelled the Great Old One and completed the mission!"

"Mm." Dracula nodded. Then, without warning, he stabbed a fork straight into her forehead.

"Oww!" Nyarlathotep winced, eyes tearing up as she clutched her head. "What the heck?! I clearly just beat Cthulhu!"

"Repelling a Great Old One, huh. There's an even worse one standing right here." Dracula stared at her with dead-fish eyes. "How many messes have you made just because you thought it'd be fun? You had that fork coming."

Nyarlathotep clutched her forehead and whimpered softly, ultimately yielding beneath Dracula's oppressive aura.

Cthugha ran over and gently touched Nyarlathotep's head before turning to Dracula and boldly declaring:

"Dracula! How dare you treat Nyarlathotep this way! Today, I—Cthugha—shall show you that only the strong deserve beautiful women!"

"…Cthugha, I appreciate the support, but…" Nyarlathotep stared at her expressionlessly. "What is your hand doing?"

Slurp.

Cthuko audibly sucked in her saliva, withdrawing the hand that had been hovering suspiciously near Nyarlathotep's rear.

"I was conducting a physical examination, of course. Forks are dangerous to us Eldritch beings!"

BAM!

Nyarlathotep suplexed her instantly, burying her head deep into the earth.

Dracula turned to the ladies of Castlevania and asked mildly,

"Everyone okay?"

He raised a finger.

"Here. Look at my hand. How many fingers am I holding up?"

The girls all looked at him with warm, indulgent eyes.

"Looks like you're all fine." Dracula nodded, then turned to Jeanne.

"Go on. That guy over there just woke up. He's almost gone."

Elizabeth, Kiyohime, Nero, Mordred, and Kirie Kagarino all exchanged glances before taking a step back, silently letting Jeanne through.

She lowered her holy standard and walked slowly to the front of the boat.

There lay the Caster of this Holy Grail War—the corrupted former Marshal of France, Gilles de Rais, slowly awakening.

The moment his eyes opened, he saw the figure that haunted his dreams: the radiant saint, Jeanne d'Arc, standing before him with a complicated expression.

"Ah… Jeanne… my beautiful saint…" Gilles whispered tearfully.

"To see your face again… in my final moments… what an honor…"

He mumbled deliriously.

"Or perhaps… is this but a fleeting illusion before I return to the Throne?"

"I'm real, Gilles," Jeanne said gently. "I, Jeanne d'Arc, am truly here in this moment."

"Is that so? Then… I am truly blessed…" Gilles de Rais, his grotesquely bulging eyes swimming in tears, trembled.

"I… have a question… I must ask, my saint…"

"Go ahead, Gilles."

"Tell me…" he rasped. "Have you… been liberated from that false god?"

"Gilles, the word 'liberated' is incorrect. I was never bound by God to begin with," Jeanne replied with a soft smile.

"I accepted His teachings by my own will. I chose to believe."

"But…!" Gilles protested, trembling. "But you were so devout! Yet when those foolish heretics burned you at the stake, that false god did nothing to answer your prayers!"

"Enough, Gilles. Sit still and listen."

Jeanne raised two fingers, and a powerful aura surged from her body.

Caster, a chaotic evil spirit, trembled all over and fell silent.

Dracula watched this and couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Comparing all the heroic spirits he'd seen lead others in this Grail War, the worst of the bunch was undoubtedly that little knight king.

Just look at Jeanne. A single gesture and she silenced a madman.

Now look at Artoria—both her ex-right-hand man and her son were gunning for her.

Terrible leadership. Absolutely no command presence. Dracula thought.

"Gilles, listen carefully. I chose to follow God not because I wanted anything from Him, but because I wanted to live the kind of life He taught. To be that kind of person," Jeanne continued softly.

"I had already begun to suspect that the God I believed in might not be as perfect as I thought. Perhaps He doesn't even exist... Especially after seeing Lord Dracula's dreams, I'm now certain of it."

She smiled at Dracula, who merely shrugged and dug a finger into his nose.

"I saw it—Dracula's God. A mighty deity, creator of worlds, seemingly omnipotent… but not the God I believed in. And not the God he believed in either. Even after becoming a vampire and defeating that god, Dracula never once harmed the innocent. He never preyed on children. He still upheld his own sense of morality... That's why I think I should learn from him."

"I don't resent my God. He had no obligation to save me—a mere girl who chose to worship Him.

I don't resent the people who burned me—they were my enemies.

I don't resent my country—I loved France. That's why I became a saint." Jeanne looked deep into Caster's eyes.

"But I am disappointed in you, Gilles. You were a noble, devout believer… and you fell.

You hurt the innocent. You didn't betray God—you betrayed yourself."

Caster bowed his head in shame. Though he had endless bitterness toward the divine, in front of Jeanne herself, he had no words left to speak.

"So, you understand now?" Jeanne smiled gently.

"Gilles. From now on, walk the right path... atone for the sins you've committed."

"…Yes," Caster murmured.

"One last farewell, Gilles."

As his body began to fade, Jeanne suddenly raised two fingers—

—and jabbed them into Gilles de Rais's eyes.

"This is your punishment for betraying God!!"

"AAAHH! That familiar pain—AAAHHH!"

His screams sent shivers down the spines of the girls nearby.

Mordred quietly slipped behind Nero for cover.

Perhaps due to the pain subsiding, Caster slowly lowered his hands…

And standing where he had once been—

Was an unfamiliar handsome man.

"…So," Dracula asked, "Who the hell are you, handsome?"

"I am the most loyal follower of Her Holiness the Saint—Gilles de Rais."

The Caster with sunken eyes gave them a peace sign with a gentle smile.

"Farewell, my saint, the mysterious gentleman, and the nameless NPCs A , B, C and D. Thank you for your guidance. I, Gilles de Rais, sinner that I am, shall now repent and atone for my sins…"

Still holding the peace sign, he dissolved into particles of light and returned to the Throne of Heroes.

"Let's go." Dracula stretched with a big yawn as he opened a portal in the air. "Time to head back. After dealing with all this nonsense the past few days, I'm completely drained. I doubt I'll leave Castlevania again until the Holy Grail War is over…"