[Ding—Path of Evil unlocked]
After Laurent had walked away, this voice appeared clearly in his mind, just that single, simple line.
He felt restless. He felt disgust toward that voice.
It had sent him here to change history, but in the end, this so-called "correction" was simply about supporting Jeanne and helping her accomplish everything as history intended.
How was this "correcting" anything?
He would never accept it.
Nor would he allow history to repeat itself.
At least, he could accomplish that much.
But damn it—he had no talent at all for fighting. He possessed no strength.
Jeanne's future battles relied on prophetic guidance and her own leadership, enabling her to win easily time after time.
Laurent, however, had none of those. The only possible help was the system…
System, Path of Evil…
At this thought, he called out mentally.
Immediately, two paths appeared clearly before him.
The previously bright Path of Heroism had now gone dim, seemingly inaccessible, while the chains previously binding the Path of Evil had completely vanished.
What is this…?
He didn't understand its meaning, yet uncontrollably opened the Path of Evil.
Yet what appeared before him was nothing but emptiness.
What was this supposed to mean?
Was it mocking him—mocking that he couldn't accomplish anything? Couldn't even become evil?
His expression darkened even further.
Was he really unable to do anything at all…?
...
The next day.
Many acquaintances in the village already knew Laurent intended to propose.
Yet early in the morning, Uncle Jacques saw Jeanne come out of her room alone and eat breakfast by herself.
Previously, this would have been impossible.
Uncle Jacques stared at his daughter strangely.
"Jeanne, did something happen? Why aren't you having breakfast with that brat Laurent today?"
When Jeanne heard this, she didn't quite know how to respond. Eventually, she simply gave a faint smile.
"I don't know either."
Uncle Jacques scratched his head in confusion. Why did something about these two feel off?
He glanced suspiciously at Laurent's room, and after a moment, decided to knock.
"Brat, are you awake?"
"No."
"Aren't you awake right now? I'm coming in."
As he spoke, Uncle Jacques already opened the door. He looked in confusion at Laurent lying despondently on the bed.
"Brat, tell me honestly. What happened last night?"
Laurent turned away, saying nothing. Just then, Jeanne's voice came from the doorway.
"Papa, there's something I need to discuss with you."
Laurent merely glanced at her indifferently.
In the living room afterward, Jacques and his wife Isabelle could hardly believe what they'd just heard.
Their daughter had said she wanted to save France, to save this country?
Her? A mere sixteen-year-old girl?
Had it been a sixteen-year-old boy, perhaps, but a young girl—what could she possibly accomplish?
"Jeanne, what nonsense are you saying?"
Jeanne knew this wasn't easily explained.
"Papa, I don't think gender matters on a battlefield."
"Child, we don't mean it like that. We mean—just now, you said you wanted to save the whole country…"
"Absurd!"
Jacques suddenly roared in anger.
"Jeanne, do you even understand what you're saying? Do you realize what that means? You and Laurent have lived happily together here until now. What happened all of a sudden, to make you think this way?!"
The girl slightly lowered her head.
"I'm not afraid, Father."
Father. The form of address changed…
Jacques' eyes widened, unable to believe what he was witnessing.
"I was born to fulfill this task. Living in this village—with Laurent and everyone else—made me so very happy. But precisely because of this happiness, I must save this country. I knew clearly, since three years ago, exactly what my mission is."
She raised her gaze then, and Jacques saw an expression he'd never seen before.
What kind of gaze was this?
Fearless, unwavering, as though nothing in the world could shake her resolve.
Yet so unfamiliar.
This wasn't the daughter he knew. Not the Jeanne he loved deeply.
"Child, what exactly happened…"
The girl shook her head slowly.
"I can't freely speak of it. Fate was already decided long ago. Once spoken aloud, no one can guarantee the final outcome."
"But just recently, you and Laurent were still laughing together."
"It's precisely because of that. I've realized there isn't much time left. I must cherish every moment. I want to save everyone in this world—and that includes us."
"Absurd! Completely absurd!"
Jacques couldn't accept her words at all.
"Jeanne! I warn you, take those words back right now!"
As a father, how could he possibly believe that the daughter he'd raised for sixteen years suddenly declared herself savior of a nation?
Yet somehow, seeing this unfamiliar Jeanne, a deep unease filled his heart.
He was afraid. Afraid that everything she'd said was true.
Yet even so, he wouldn't easily agree!
Today was clearly fated to end poorly.
"The Lord will watch over every one of us, Father."
"If Laurent had told me this instead, perhaps I might've agreed. A man fighting on the battlefield for his country is heroic. But you—a mere girl—what could you possibly accomplish?"
"Father…"
Jeanne slowly bent her knees, kneeling down, and pressed her head to the ground.
"I'm grateful to have been your daughter. But from the moment my destiny began, I was already Jeanne d'Arc. I want to change the course of this war, for our country. Therefore, Father, I wish to receive your blessing—just like those who march into battle for their homeland."
Looking at his daughter kneeling before him, Jacques felt his throat tighten, rendering him unable to speak.
These times were chaotic, filled with wars. Ordinary families sending their sons off to war was common enough. But daughters?
Looking at his daughter, whose determination was unshakeable, he couldn't voice even a word of rejection.
As a father, he didn't want to crush her resolve—but for her safety, he should crush it.
After a long pause, Jacques slowly softened. He sighed deeply, eyes misted, voice trembling with more reluctance than anger.
"Child, have you truly decided this…?"
Isabelle covered her mouth, crouching down beside her daughter and gently holding her.
"Jeanne…does our country truly need you to save it…?"
Compared to Jacques, Isabelle was more sensitive and seemed to somewhat believe her daughter's words.
"Yes. It needs me."
"Even if we agree, then what about Laurent? How will he feel?"
The girl—no, Jeanne—gave a soft smile.
"I'll explain everything clearly to him."