Became the Weapon Monopolist of the Gods-Chapter 20: The Girl Called a Saint (1)
The blonde girl with purple eyes asked me.
“Did you call me?”
“I didn’t call you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Led is probably the correct expression. Everyone who comes here comes like that.”
Napoleon too.
Yi Sun-sin too.
They were all led by my awakening ability to visit this place, the store of everything.
The girl was the same.
The girl who had been quietly looking at me opened her mouth.
“Joan of Arc.”
“... ... .”
“Please call me Jeanne.”
─ Joan of Arc, Maiden of Orleans
[Protect the girl who became a victim of the Hundred Years’ War.]
[Reward: Flag of the Saints]
The girl was the miraculous saint who ended the Hundred Years’ War.
She was Joan of Arc.
If you were to pick the most questionable figure in human history, it would definitely be Joan of Arc.
The Maiden of Orleans, the Saint of Arac. The Miraculous Girl... ... .
She was a mysterious being with many suspicions, as she had many aliases.
An ordinary country girl who could not even read suddenly received a revelation from God one day and saved her country from a crisis.
This miraculous anecdote, which is difficult to write even as a novel, is a ‘true history’ that can be found in records in both England and France, and it is a mystery that many historians have raised doubts about to this day.
While great people like Yi Sun-sin and Napoleon were proven heroes who started out as low-ranking officers and gradually built up their skills, Joan of Arc was an ordinary country girl who could not read a single line.
Such a girl suddenly received a revelation from God and took command of the soldiers from the French leadership, and defeated England.
In just a month.
A 16-year-old girl from a small rural village called Domrémy achieved a feat that even many veteran commanders in France could not achieve.
There were always many theories surrounding Joan of Arc, despite her achievements that could only be described as a miracle.
The theory that she was a hero artificially created by the French leadership.
The theory that Joan of Arc was actually not one, but several.
The theory that she was a princess, the daughter of the King of France, the theory that she was a mercenary who hired veteran mercenaries, etc.
In addition, there were theories that she was an alien contact, a real witch, an intersex theory, and a homunculus theory.
The mysterious girl who brought about so many suspicions that it was hard to even list them all was Joan of Arc.
However, the Joan of Arc I saw was an ordinary girl who was far from a mystery.
She swept the monastery yard, distributed bread to children, helped with village work, and prayed when it was time for mass.
The pattern that can be commonly seen among those who belong to the Catholic Church was Joan of Arc’s daily life.
Except for her doll-like appearance that draws admiration and her maturity beyond her peers, Joan of Arc was a devout girl you could easily see anywhere.
It makes you wonder how such a girl could become the saint who saved France... ... .
“My name is Bishop Cambrai.”
The kind-looking bishop asked me to shake his hand.
“My name is Choi Seo-jun.”
“Jeanne said that you are a saint.”
“That’s a misunderstanding. I am just a devout believer, not a saint.”
For your information, I was an atheist who believed in 21st century scientific civilization. The only church I went to was when I was young with my friends.
However, in medieval Europe, where Catholicism ruled, if you claimed to be non-religious, you could be branded a heretic.
At that time, Europe was a world that took the existence of God for granted.
The royal family readily gave up their troops when a young girl heard the voice of God.
“You are a devout believer, you are wonderful. The Lord will bless you, brother.”
The Bishop of Cambrai treated me kindly from the beginning.
Not only the Bishop of Cambrai.
Just because I was Joan of Arc’s guest, I was treated with the utmost hospitality by the citizens of Orléans.
I could see the reason from Joan of Arc’s usual behavior.
“Please bear with me for a little while.”
Cheeeeeee... ...
“Ugh!”
The girl treated the wounded with the holy water provided by the monastery.
To my modern eyes, it looked like a low-grade potion for healing, but to the people of that time, it was a miracle product that could be called holy water.
“Thank you, Saint.”
The small girl personally visited the sick while pulling a cart filled with holy water.
“How long will you be doing this?”
“Until the bell rings.”
“When is that?”
“When the sun sets over the Loire, the bell rings.”
“... ... .”
In short, it was until evening.
And there were at least five hours left until evening.
During that long time, Joan of Arc walked through the alleys, treating everyone, regardless of whether they were beggars or the elderly
If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.
She distributed bread from her cart to the hungry, and gave holy water to the sick.
Like someone whose devotion was ingrained in her, the girl did not show any signs of difficulty.
I followed Joan of Arc around and observed her daily life.
Daeng─! Daeng─!
“It is time to go to church now.”
When the bell rang, Joan of Arc stopped what she was doing, packed up her cart, and returned to the monastery.
“Thank you, Saint.”
Everyone who found a girl pulling a cart through the streets called her a ‘saint.’
‘Why a saint?’
I wondered.
Joan of Arc’s sincerity was something you wouldn’t see in a girl her age, but she wasn’t the only one who showed devotion.
There were nuns and priests who performed healings with holy water.
However, people didn’t call them saints or saints.
“Haha, saint, you must be on your way to mass.”
“Saint, there’s some bread left. Would you like some?”
“Saint, can I have some holy water?”
“Saint... ... ”
Only this young girl was allowed to be called a saint.
Even the old man who swore at her and the child who played around with her. Everyone was kind to the girl.
It was a heartwarming sight, but I felt a strange sense of alienation there.
As if, that kindness came close like a ‘wall’ between Joan of Arc and them.
And, I soon learned the identity of that ‘wall’.
The reason Joan of Arc is called a ‘saint’.
Ding ding ding ding─!
“It’s England!”
“The English have invaded!”
The next evening.
The great English army led by Henry VI surrounded Orléans.
Ding ding ding ding─!
As the bell announcing battle rang loudly, war clouds gathered over the peaceful town.
People hid in their homes, and only knights on horseback roamed the streets.
Archers with bows lined up at the castle walls.
The English army seen beyond the castle walls was five times as large as the French army.
“... ... .”
The soldiers’ faces were tense.
It was around that time that Joan of Arc climbed the ramparts.
The girl was holding a huge flag.
It was a pure white flag with a picture of angels playing in a field sprinkled with lilies.
It was just one flag.
But... ... .
“We have a saint!”
“Waaaaaaah!”
The tension-filled air of Orleans changed.
It was a strangely heated atmosphere that was hard to believe came from simple religious beliefs.
Everyone was very excited, as if the presence of the flag brought victory.
They were like fanatics ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) intoxicated by a pseudo-religion.
Squeak!
At that moment, the gates of Orleans went up and knights on horseback charged toward the English camp.
“Charge! Charge!”
“Waaaaaaaaaah!”
It was an absurd advance that could not be considered a defensive strategy.
Kaang! Kaang!
A bloody close combat ensued as the knights from both sides clashed.
Swords crossed swords and screams echoed.
The plains at dusk were dyed with blood and metallic sounds.
And then.
Flutter─, flutter─.
Joan of Arc began to wave her flag.
Then an amazing phenomenon occurred.
The fallen soldier stood up, and new flesh grew from his cut skin.
Hehehee!
The knight, whose horse had trotted and was exhausted, raise the sword.
“As long as the saint waves the flag, we will not be defeated!”
“Wow!”
“Charge! Charge!”
It was a ‘miracle’.
At the same time, it was a noble ‘sacrifice’.
Flutter─, flutter─.
The blood of the angel, just like the one depicted on the flag, flowed down the back of the girl waving the pure white flag.
It was the ‘wings of the red angel’.
“Thank you for your hard work, Jeanne.”
The kind-looking Bishop of Cambrai smiled kindly at Joan of Arc.
Chiiiiiik─!
The holy water in the bishop’s hand flowed down the girl’s blood-stained back.
“Ugh.”
The Bishop of Cambrai smiled kindly at the girl who bit her lips and endured the pain.
“Your sacrifice made France safer.”
I felt that smile was so cruel.
Ding ding ding─
“It’s the English army! England!”
Flutter─, flutter─.
The girl waves the flag.
Shedding the blood of a holy angel.
