The dark night fled, screaming in terror.
Crimson flames, fueled by malice and hatred, roared fiercely around Jeanne Alter.
The pungent stench of burning flesh spread rapidly with the scorching wind.
A terrifying magical presence, more ominous than that of Fallen Angels or Devils, permeated the air.
"What the hell are you?!" Raynare cried out, both shocked and frightened. Sparks carried by the hot wind burned painfully on her skin.
Not a Devil, not a god, and certainly not a human… How could a mere worm-like human ever make her feel such fear?!
Jeanne Alter ignored Raynare's startled shout. Just as Raynare looked down on humans, Jeanne Alter despised Raynare—a mere mid-level Fallen Angel lacking any self-awareness. Jeanne's focus was instead on Asia.
"Asia, didn't you say you were here to serve at the church in this city?"
Her golden eyes, reflecting the dancing flames, pierced into Asia as Jeanne Alter spoke quietly, "You lied to me… Asia."
Asia trembled in anxiety, afraid of being condemned. This woman before her was Jeanne d'Arc, a Saint chosen by God. In Jeanne's eyes, she must be a sinful traitor for associating with Fallen Angels…
Asia, consumed by fear, completely forgot that Raynare had repeatedly said Jeanne Alter herself carried the scent of a Devil.
"But then again, I also lied to you."
Jeanne gently reached out, stroking Asia's blonde hair. The soft, silky strands slipping through her fingers felt like the finest satin, calming Jeanne's fury. She withdrew her harsh expression, revealing the gentle smile Asia was familiar with.
Asia blinked, confused by Jeanne's words.
Jeanne spun her flagpole deftly, forming a graceful flourish, and stepped protectively in front of Asia. Her golden eyes openly displayed disdain toward Raynare.
The beating of wings signaled the arrival of Raynare's companions—one man and two women, all with jet-black wings. Drawn by Jeanne's explosive magical power, they quickly approached.
"Ohoho, interesting."
Jeanne's lips curled into a mocking smile, her eyes casually scanning them as if sizing up prey. "Instead of running away, you actually came toward me? Do you pieces of trash have team spirit after all? If so, I'll make sure your ashes stay together!"
"Don't get cocky! We're noble Fallen Angels!"
Kalawarner snapped back, pride wounded, her racial superiority making her fearless again.
"You only blocked one of Lady Raynare's casual attacks. You think that's the extent of our power?" Mittelt sneered, forming a spear of light in her hand, filled with killing intent aimed squarely at Jeanne.
All four Fallen Angels radiated thick, blood-like malice. Facing such evil, a human's mind would usually crumble like paper.
Yet, Asia was unaffected. She stared at Jeanne Alter's back, entranced by the overwhelming sense of security.
"I owe you an apology first, Asia."
"…Eh?" Why was Jeanne apologizing?
"I promised at first that I'd take you to the church… but now I have to break my word. If I hand you over to these bastard Fallen Angels, I won't be able to sleep at night. So, I'm taking you for myself."
Her words carried irresistible dominance, yet Asia surprisingly felt no aversion.
"I won't let you! Asia is mine! Her [Sacred Gear] belongs to me! With the power to heal Fallen Angels, I…I definitely…I'll definitely earn Lord Azazel's favor!"
Raynare seethed with jealousy at Jeanne's affectionate display toward Asia. She had prepared too much to lose Asia's [Sacred Gear] to someone else!
Gathering milky-white light particles, Raynare conjured an even larger, denser spear of light, her hate-filled eyes locked onto Jeanne Alter.
Simultaneously, the other three Fallen Angels also threw spears of light toward Jeanne.
"Ha… How predictable."
Initially intrigued because these beings came straight out of mythology—even though they were just minor Fallen Angels—Jeanne had quickly grown bored. Seeing the same trick again made her yawn.
Those spears couldn't truly harm her, though they might sting briefly. She didn't possess any [Magic Resistance], and while she could invoke [Ephemeral Dream EX] for invulnerability, it came with annoying drawbacks, like health drain. Annoying indeed.
Azazel… Wasn't that the leader of the Fallen Angels? He might be an interesting distraction later.
Four spears of light sliced through the air, briefly turning night into day. Jeanne lazily raised her hand, completely unconcerned.
A moment later, flames roared forth like an enraged dragon, swallowing everything in their path.
The massive spears of light vanished instantly within the inferno, like pebbles cast into the ocean.
Flames blossomed brilliantly, feeding hungrily on all nearby life.
"NO—!!"
Screams echoed as three of the four Fallen Angels were instantly devoured by towering flames. Despite their sturdy bodies, Fallen Angels were no more resilient than ordinary humans in the face of Jeanne's wrath. Not even ashes remained.
Only Raynare survived, though charred beyond recognition—an intentional mercy by Jeanne.
"How…can…this be…?"
"Is that all for your last words? Even now, you're incredibly dull, scum."
She emerged like a specter from the fires of hell, bringing those same flames to the mortal world.
Jeanne appeared before Raynare, now clad in black-purple armor, a ceremonial sword at her waist. Beneath her metallic headpiece, eyes of molten gold shimmered like blazing coals.
Her white flag unfurled, the black, sinister dragon pattern almost alive amid the raging flames.
"You…what…are you…?"
"What a rude question. I'm human, of course."
Jeanne's mouth curled into a sarcastic grin. "Is it really so hard to accept being defeated by a mere human whom you've always looked down upon?"
"Im…possible…"
Raynare was barely recognizable, her burnt voice scraping painfully.
Even in this state, Raynare stubbornly clung to her Fallen Angel pride—a laughable, pathetic sight in Jeanne's eyes.
"You reek of blood, even when burnt to a crisp. Many people must've died at your hands. No wonder you look down on humans."
"But thanks to you being such scum, I finally got to vent properly. Playing nice recently has made my shoulders stiff… So, before I kill you, allow me to introduce myself properly."
Jeanne smiled coldly, looking down at Raynare.
"Jeanne d'Arc. Not a fake, nor someone with a similar name. I'm the very same Jeanne who led armies in the Hundred Years' War as a Saint, only to be executed as a witch! I've returned! I've crawled back from hell!"
"Do you see these flames? These are the flames that killed me! The flames I brought from hell! Born from my hatred!"
"Since you insist on calling me a witch, I'll grant your wish! The Saint who saved her country died in flames—now stands a witch! The Dragon Witch who holds a banner raised against the very gods!"
Jeanne didn't care if Raynare believed her.
Feeling death approaching, Raynare desperately pleaded, abandoning dignity entirely.
"Wait! Don't kill me! I'm Lord Azazel's servant! Kill me, and Azazel-sama and Shemhazai-sama won't let you off! I'll give you anything! My body is better than Asia's, and I'm far more experienced! I can please you in ways Asia never could!"
Raynare's seductive promises instantly made Jeanne's gaze turn icy. A lethal chill spread, freezing even the roaring flames briefly.
The crushing aura of power was comparable only to Azazel himself, Raynare realized in horror. This person before her was at the same level as the Fallen Angel Governor-General or a Devil King.
Why had she angered such a monster?!
Jeanne's spear of flame fell from the heavens, obliterating Raynare completely. The earth ruptured, melting into magma, spreading fiery destruction far beyond view.
Flames and heat surrounded Jeanne like loyal servants, rising and falling with her breath. At this moment, she was the sovereign of flames.
Realizing she'd gone overboard, Jeanne rubbed her cheek sheepishly.
The world is so beautiful, yet I'm so irritable… Not good, not good.
Though no ordinary humans were harmed, the damage was impossible to ignore. Kuoh was Rias's territory—Jeanne expected a headache-inducing interrogation soon.
But she wasn't going to shift blame. Remembering Koneko's expression made her frustration rise again.
"It's all that Fallen Angel's fault. Killing her was too easy."
She changed back to her casual attire—a black trench coat, denim shorts, and boots.
Jeanne turned her head, sensing someone had escaped—a rogue priest she'd momentarily forgotten amidst her rage.
"He got away, huh?"
What absurd luck.
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T/N: jeanne is so hot... literally