Chapter: 5
“Th-that is…”
Faced with what was meant to be a light question, the kind one might ask just to check how a day had gone, Jeanne’s heart grew heavy.
She wanted to tell him the truth.
That she had lost him once before.
That she had been betrayed by Alexis and died.
That she didn’t want to live through that future twice—and that they should leave together.
“I finished it well.”
But she couldn’t bring herself to say any of that.
“I see. I knew you would. From now on, you’re a knight in service to a lord, so you must devote yourself wholeheartedly to His Highness Prince Alexis. That is the way of a knight—and the proper way to repay the grace you’ve been shown.”
Just as in her previous life, Jacques smiled with quiet pride.
Though retired, Jacques had lived his entire life as a royal knight of Brienne. To him, loyalty was the greatest virtue—and Alexis was the next king.
The Jacques Jeanne knew would never accept his daughter suddenly joining a different knightly order. Even if she spoke honestly about the future, he would dismiss it as absurd nonsense.
And even if she somehow managed to persuade him, the journey to Lorraine itself posed a problem. Jeanne alone could deal with monsters along the way, but one wrong move could put Jacques in danger.
No matter how she thought about it, leaving him behind was the right choice for now.
“Yes, Father.”
“Alright. Are you heading out first thing tomorrow morning?”
“That’s the plan. I probably won’t be able to come back for a while.”
“I see. Be careful.”
“…Thank you.”
They had had this exact same conversation in her past life. Back then, she had been nothing but happy and excited.
Trying to ignore the bitterness welling up inside her, Jeanne scooped up a spoonful of soup. That was when Jacques spoke in a low, almost absentminded voice.
“I’m sorry.”
She froze at the weight in his tone.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t even attend your knighting ceremony… as your father.”
Jacques rubbed his motionless thigh and looked at Jeanne with wistful eyes. Unable to meet his gaze, she lowered her own.
She hadn’t known then. That she would be too busy after joining the order to even stop by her hometown. That those words would become his last.
“Your soup’s getting cold, Father. Eat up.”
Jeanne hurriedly swallowed several mouthfuls of the thick soup, forcing down the emotions rising along with it.
Calm down. It hasn’t happened yet.
The destruction of Dongremian was still a year away. There was time.
She would quickly join the Lorraine Knights first, then persuade her father little by little, no matter how long it took.
Even if he didn’t understand at first, perhaps he would reconsider once he saw her grow into a fine knight.
Even if it took more than a year to change his mind, that was fine. If she evacuated her father and the villagers at the moment the incident occurred, the worst future could still be avoided.
I can change it. I won’t let things end so meaninglessly this time.
Until Jacques fell asleep, Jeanne had to keep repeating to herself that everything was fine—pretending, outwardly, that nothing was wrong.
* * *
Before dawn, Jeanne finished preparing to leave and gathered her belongings. Though it was early, Jacques was already awake, saying he wanted to see his daughter off at the start of her new journey.
Feeling guilty for disappointing him, she instead used that guilt to steel her resolve.
She would prove that her choice was the right one.
Leaving the house, Jeanne saddled her horse and swung herself up.
“Shall we go, then?”
With a powerful neigh, she took her first step toward Lorraine—a land where the sun rose earlier than Brienne.
The distance from Dongremian to Lorraine normally took well over a week, but that was only if one traveled the long route around the forest’s edge.
Jeanne planned to cut straight through the Brocéliande Forest, which lay along the border between Brienne and the Grand Duchy.
Stretching from Brienne’s northeast all the way to the southern coast along the river, the forest was so dense with towering trees that they blotted out the sky.
Crossing it straight through would take only three days. The problem was its sheer size—within it lived countless species of plants and wild animals, bandits, and monsters that hunted those very bandits.
Crossing such a forest alone was practically suicide.
But Jeanne, who had once sealed the Demon King himself, felt no fear of mere monsters or bandits. Though her body was no longer at its prime, she was confident she could handle them on her own.
By dusk on her first day in the forest, she lit a fire early and prepared camp. Firewood was plentiful, so there was no worry of the flames dying out.
Planning to nap briefly before moving on, she leaned against a boulder twice her size.
Come to think of it, in novels, this is always when monsters or bandits show up to harass the protagonist. But that’s just a cliché…
As she stared absently into the fire, hoping nothing would happen—
Rustle.
“Oh? It’s a woman!”
“She’s damn pretty. And she’s got a horse too—she’d fetch a good price!”
“Boss! Come take a look! There’s a young woman here!”
“….”
Jeanne pinched the bridge of her nose, overwhelmed by fatigue, and let out a long sigh.
“So this is why it’s a cliché.”
“What’s she muttering about?”
“Whatever. I can’t even be bothered to draw my sword on you. I’ll let you go, so shut up and get lost.”
“What the hell? Is she crazy?”
“Did you hear that? ‘I’ll let you go.’ Wow, how terrifying.”
The bandits mockingly repeated her words, twirling their fingers beside their ears and laughing among themselves.
Yeah. I’d laugh too, if I were them.
Rising slowly, Jeanne quickly assessed her enemies.
Three at most—and four if you counted the boss they had just called. Their weapons amounted to nothing more than chipped, dull daggers.
It’s a miracle they’re still alive with gear like that.
Not wanting to waste her breath, she grabbed the sword propped beside her. Drawing it in a clean, economical motion, she fixed the bandits with a gaze as sharp as her blade.
Sensing the killing intent pouring off her, the bandits flinched.
“W-what is she?”
“Why’re you scared? It’s obviously just for self-defense.”
“Boss! What are you doing? Hurry up and get over here!”
As one of them shouted toward the bushes, branches and leaves rustled, and a dark silhouette emerged.
“What’re you dawdling for? The boss should get the first taste—”
The moment the shadow loomed, a sinister aura and the stench of blood filled the air.
This feeling—
“Boss?”
The figure stepped into the torchlight.
A chicken—at least three times larger than a human—had clamped its massive beak around the neck of the man who appeared to be the bandits’ leader.
The man’s neck was bent at an angle impossible for any living human.
His limbs dangled limply, swaying as the monster moved. The light had gone out of his eyes, his mouth hanging open, utterly still.
The giant chicken spat the body out as if it found it unappetizing.
“A-a cockatrice?!”
“Damn it! Of all the rotten luck—why now?!”
“Run!”
At the sudden appearance of the monster, the bandits panicked and scattered in all directions. One of them wasn’t fast enough—his leg was skewered by the creature’s long tail, and he collapsed to the ground.
“Aaagh!”
Clutching his bleeding leg, the man screamed before his body began to convulse violently.
As screams of terror echoed through the forest, Jeanne alone felt as though she existed in a separate, silent world.
The cockatrice—a monster with the head and body of a chicken and a venomous serpent’s tail—possessed a torso as hard as mithril armor. Without aura, it was nearly impossible to pierce.
Which meant that with aura, defeating it posed little difficulty.
And Jeanne possessed not only aura, but also divine power—the blessing of the Goddess.
It’s been a while.
Since sealing the Demon King, she had never needed to use either aura or divine power. There had been peace for a time—then she was executed.
One regret was that aura and divine power grew with time. Having become young again, neither should have been at the level they were when she sealed the Demon King.
Losing nearly ten years of effort felt like watching a sandcastle collapse—but she could simply rebuild it.
I’ve done it once. Why couldn’t I do it twice?
Taking a deep breath, Jeanne drew forth both aura and divine power at once. Lightning-sharp energy and wind-soft light wrapped around her body and blade.
It was a familiar sensation. But the moment she fully unleashed both powers, Jeanne’s eyes went wide and she raised her hands in shock.
Why are they the same as when I sealed the Demon King…?
The aura and divine power that should have regressed with time were no weaker than at her peak.
So powerful, in fact, that all her resolve to retrain from scratch felt pointless.
In other words—
This is insanely lucky.
Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the surging twin lights. Smiling brightly, Jeanne tightened her grip on her sword.
