The Mission to Restore Humanity -- Grand Order

"Merci. We are on our way back to Vacoleurs now to regroup, and see how many of our men survived. After that..." He hesitated. "I don't know. France's army is scattered. We are still awaiting orders from the palace. You are free to accompany us, but there may still be enemies at the fort when we arrive."

Avalon waved a hand, "Don't worry about us. We can help!" she smiled, with a slight bow of her head.

"Very well then," the soldier bowed respectfully. "Allow us to be your bodyguards. We'll show you the way to the fort."

The soldiers continued on down the road. It took most of the day to walk to Vaucoleurs from where they were, and the sun was already going down by the time they arrived.

What they found was a crumbling ruin. It looked like the fort had been hit by an aerial carpet bombing, with burnt and blackened rubble everywhere. Less than a dozen soldiers still remained here, and most were busy cleaning up the dead bodies left behind. The soldiers accompanying the party soon joined them in that work.

Phillipus rushed in. "Please, I have medical credentials and triage experience. May I help you with your wounded?"

Avalon couldn't not help them, though it upset her greatly. It reminded her too much of what had happen to the mansion in the alternate timeline. After doing what she could with her basic first aid training she was required to have as a teacher, she tried to glean what she could about what happened here. When possible, she did a little spell or two to help the wounded when none of the other soldiers were looking.

Aaron quietly wrangled Artoria and Mordred into moving and cleaning duties. He didn't have a lot of medical expertise, and he figured it was better if all three of them kept their mouths shut.

Artoria had no problem keeping her mouth shut. The soldiers greatly appreciated their help, though there weren't many left to save. While she worked, they told her what had happened.

Jeanne had appeared a few days after her death and killed the priest who had sentenced her. From there, she moved on to the rest of the clergy, then attacked and killed the King. She was ridiculously powerful, without enemy soldiers even managing to land a scratch on her. She also apparently had the power to summon dragons, which increased in number steadily until she had an army of them with which to capture Orleans.

One soldier told Avalon that Jeanne had a few other people on her side, but their identities were a mystery. They were dressed in strange clothing, each one seeming to come from a different foreign land. They were all nearly as powerful as Jeanne herself.

Phillipus murmured out of earshot of the soldiers; "Other Servants, I'll bet." He wiped excess poultice off of bandages between his fingers and called to one of the troops.

"What of the Baron de Rais?"

The soldier still looked a little panicky in the aftermath of the attack, but tried to calm down and think. "I know the Marshal was present in Orleans during the attack. I'm not sure what became of him--we've only had occasional contact with the military command since then."

"Well... I suppose we'll find out later," he sighed. With discretion, he worked alchemical tinctures and and spells into both bandages and a simple stew to help calm the soldiers' nerves.

Artoria helped with what limited medical knowledge she could, and made her way over to Phillipus. "I can hardly believe this. Would Jeanne d'Arc truly do all this? She's a saint, even compared to the most noble Heroic Spirit."

"Think back on Fuyuki, your Highness. Mordred's lust for vengeance was even stronger when summoned in a Singularity; even their armor was changed. Something about the anomalies might be contorting the personalities and wishes of other Spirits, something that can make even a saint become a demon. Considering Jean's legacy... We should exercise the height of caution."

"I suppose that might be the case..." She trailed off in thought. She could see Mordred being warped easily enough--or even herself--but she'd like to think someone like Jeanne was incorruptible. Perhaps there was no such thing.

Mashu helped in whatever way she could as well. "If the other enemies seen were indeed Servants, it seems likely a Holy Grail is the culprit. What should be our next move?"

Mordred stepped up, hands on their hips. "We go to Orleans."

The others agreed, and after lending adequate aid to the soldiers, they continued on to the very place mentioned.

After Mordred's proclamation, a small, furry white creature appeared on Mashu's shoulder to add its own opinion. "Fou! Fou!"

"Fou-kun, where were you hiding?" Mashu sighed. "You must have snuck into one of our Coffins. Be careful, okay?"

As they headed out, the soldier that brought them to the fort called out to them. "If you're heading to Orleans... please be careful. The wi--... Jeanne has all manner of drakes and dragons guarding the city. We don't need more death than there has been already."

Phillipus bowed slightly in thanks. "Of course we will. You know," he smirked, "I've never seen a dragon in person. This should be most exciting." After masking looking up the map to Orleans with a roll of parchment, the Masters and Servants filed into point, with a Pendragon at each end of the line.

The group set off in the direction of Orleans. It was a long walk--three days by Phillipus' estimation. With almost no carriages on the road anymore, they'd have to hoof it. Their legs would be burning by the end.

At the end of the first day, Roman came back into the control room with a flash drive, and flicked on the communicator. "Alright, I found a translator! It took some time, but I managed to pull a Middle French lexicon from Laplace. Once I wire it in, you guys should hear everything in your own language, and the people you talk to will hear you speaking the local language." He laughed awkwardly. "It's not perfect, so I can't guarantee it won't butcher a few sentences. But it should work for now!"

The group continued on toward Orleans. After two days, they could see a dark haze on the horizon. From the top of a hill, they could see in the far distance, dozens of small dark shapes flying in circles. They weren't close enough to make them out, and it would take another day to reach Orleans.

Before that, though, something else caught their attention. Nearby to the southwest, black smoke was rising from a small city. It hadn't been there an hour earlier; this attack was either very recent, or still underway.

"We've got to help them," Artoria urged the group, heading off toward the city, indicated on their map as La Charite.

As they approached the city, they detected the presence of Servants, but they were already retreating by the time they made it to the city.

The whole city was burning, and corpses littered the streets, some of them looking half-eaten. They could see no survivors.

They didn't have much chance to take in the carnage before they sensed the Servants turning around and heading back their way. They had been detected.

A moment later, five figures appeared on a rooftop overlooking the group. Front and center was a figure that could not be mistaken for anyone else but Jeanne d'Arc.



Four Servants flanked her. Among them was a Lancer that everyone in the party was fortunate enough not to have met before.









Jeanne frowned down at them, stepping squarely in front of her lackeys.

"...What the hell is this. These Servants were not summoned by my Holy Grail. What are these rats doing here?"

Phillipus stepped forward and sank on one knee. "Jeanne d'Orleans! Ruler! We beg audience with you, that we may better understand the nature of your wrath! We Servants have ventured far to seek your ear!" He looked among the other Servants. All women... Then where's de Rais?

"Countess Bathory, I greet you, as well as you all: Berserker, Rider, Assassin." He looked over his shoulder and nodded at Artoria and Mordred, voice lower.

"The Countess, at least, prefers to parley with women. I'll leave it to you from here." Mordred stepped forward, more than a little confused.

Avalon took a deep breath, but stood tall. She chose to stand tall behind the other servants though,as to lend them more credibility. He didn't like it, but Aaron followed Phillipus' deference, still remaining mostly silent. Even with a translator he wasn't very keen on messing up, as he was indeed masquerading as a french person. Darius remained in spirit form, waiting to see what happened next.

After Phillipus spoke, both Lancer and Assassin reacted at the same time: "How did you--?" they said in unison. They shot each other dirty looks, but Jeanne's raised hand prevented any further words.

She scowled at Phillipus, disgust rising to the forefront. "Are you trying to flatter me? Like the priests, you bend to one knee and speak honeyed words when it benefits you, waiting to put a knife in my back when I turn around. Are you an ass-licker like them, or just a coward?"

"You want to understand my wrath? What is there to explain? It should be obvious to see. I am the one that God abandoned, Jeanne d'Arc, the saint of Orleans. Like God abandoned me, so he has abandoned this country. Justice is dead. So, I will burn the men, women, and children of this country, like so much useless trash."

Mordred straightened up. "And when France is in ruins, what then? What have you gained? What penance is paid?"

She frowned at her, scanning the rest of her compatriots. "Paracelsus. And Artoria Pendragon. I can't see your name, red knight. It makes me wonder."

"It's very simple. I will have gained my revenge. These people betrayed us, spat at us, lied to us! I won't allow it any longer. As long as humanity continues to exist, this hatred of mine will never lessen."

Aaron just...couldn't anymore. He stood up taking a deep breath, "Okay I'm sick of masquerading here. Look, what the people did to you is obvious. They are shitty bastards for doing so, but not only is this just proving their accusations but listen...we come from a time far far ahead of this one. In that time, you are lauded, raised to sainthood, and what was done to you is greatly mourned. Could you just, like...give these people a fucking break? They are commoners that are victims of the times just as much as you are and you are giving them way more punishment than they deserve. You've GOT to stop this shit." he knew she probably wouldn't listen to him, but he figured they could at least fight her and get it over with.

"He's right." Mordred clutched a hand over her chest, voice sincere.

"I understand revenge. I understand setting the world on fire to cleanse what abandoned you. I understand betrayal... both to be betrayed, and to betray. When your vengeance is done, all that will remain is emptiness, and you will do nothing but mourn what you could've had."