I seriously doubt there is something wrong with my Chaldea

Even as a hero who has been active in history and is engraved on the continuous monument of "human history", he was defeated by a witch born of resentment and obsession. How is this? Satire.

"Ha...ha...cough cough cough cough..."

The tip of the black banner pierced the saint's chest, a dry bloodstain was drawn on the corner of her mouth, cracks appeared in the spiritual core, and the magic power gradually faded away. Her deep breathing was like the painful shouting.

But she didn't have the strength to shout out anymore, all her words at this time were so angry.

She coughed violently, sounding like an old woman's only breath.

Her body instinctively wanted to cough up the blood clogged in her trachea, but the scorching heat that pierced her skin had completely evaporated the blood.

From a biological point of view, she is now too dead to die.

At this time, she was a corpse with only one last breath.

Now the reason why Joan of Arc has not died is only because she is no longer a human being who can "die", she is a follower, even if she is a follower, she can still struggle before her spirit core is completely shattered for a while.

………but even so.

"Not dead yet?"

Joan of Arc held the banner of the dragon that pierced the saint's chest in her hand, and there was no disdain and contempt in her eyes, only endless murderousness and resentment.

She didn't intend to let go of Joan who was already dead, although even if she pulled out the gun like this now, Joan wouldn't live long.

"boom…………"

Suddenly, a flame appeared on the black armor on Hei Joan's body.

Then, this ray of flame suddenly turned into a large flame, following the dragon banner she held tightly in her hand, slowly ignited the body of the saint in front of her who could not live for long.

"Boom boom boom......"

It didn't take long for Joan's body to be surrounded by flames.

Just like that time.

It was like the city of Orleans in the light rain on May 5th.

He was tied to a cross and burned at the stake.

And now, she was also in Orleans, engulfed in flames again just a few days after her former self was burned to death.

But this time something was different.

... She can feel it.

In this blooming red lotus fire, there is a deep and endless resentment towards France, the people of France, the nobles of France, the Holy See, and this individual named "Joan of Arc".

...... Her resentment.

………The temperature of this scorching flame……… Is it the condensed form of her resentment………

In this flame full of resentment, Joan of Arc, who is also the same individual, seemed to feel the resentment she had.

In the memory shadow intertwined by the trance light, what she saw were people, many people.

There are bishops, believers, children, men, women, nobles, priests, kings, generals, and civilians.

They seemed to be "standing" in front of her like this, they stood there side by side like puppets, motionless, just looking at the saint who was gradually engulfed by the fire of resentment.

"——————"

What Joan of Arc saw in their eyes was only the deep hatred that was like an abyss.

... ... so painful.

The scorching poisonous fire burned her dying body, and the feeling of burning her soul burst out from the depths of her spiritual core.

…………So sad.

This was not just physical torture, the silent, hateful gaze seemed to turn into a vicious flame, scorching Joan's will.

…………why…………

These three words naturally appeared in Joan's mind that had been swallowed by pain.

But she couldn't get an answer, and she still answered with those silent, vicious, and hateful eyes.

"... Can you understand my pain?"

Joan of Arc's gaze was almost distracted, and at this moment, when watching the demonic flames of resentment devour the famous saint in history, Joan of Arc said quietly.

"It's just like what that brat said... Then, as the prototype of me created by Jill, as a saint, can you understand my pain?"

"This is what you have experienced... This is what you have really encountered... This is definitely the most vivid memory of your life!!!"

Black Joan looked at the face in front of him, as if he was dead, and roared.

"You! Can you understand my pain?!!! You——you must be able to understand it?! You clearly understand my pain——you definitely have a deeper memory of such pain than me—— -"

"why!!!"

She roared like crazy, the poisonous fire of resentment suddenly rose up, completely devouring Joan of Arc, even the black Joan of Arc in front of her could only see her light and shadow that was gradually distorted by the flame.

"Then why do you still choose unnecessary salvation! It is here! It is the source of all the pain that this land gives you!!! Why are you so stupid to stop me without even thinking!!!"

"Answer me...…Answer me ahhh!!!"

"because…………"

Jeanne spoke slowly.

"This is not the only memory I have. What I will never forget is Domremy's wheat field..."

"call…………"

Her breathless words were like a ray of breeze, leaving a slight ripple in the air, which disappeared without a trace in an instant.

"What--what--"

The black Joan of Arc opened her eyes wide.

"is that a lie…………"

She said softly, "It's a lie...... Do you think I don't know that you will forget the endless resentment and pain?"

"Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom!!!!!!"

Suddenly, her face became extremely distorted, and the flames full of resentment and anger swallowed her body together.

"You traitor—betrayed your own pain and resentment—go—go to death!!!"

There was always a flame of resentment burning on her body, but at this moment, Joan of Arc didn't care about it at all.

"This is the roar of my soul honed by hatred——"

From her mouth came whispers that could set hell on fire.

"[Roar, my wrath (La Grondement Du Haine)]"

In just an instant, the fire of resentment splashed out of the ground like magma, accompanied by countless pitch-black and blood-red spears suddenly rose from the ground, and the intertwined spears pierced through the body of the saint in an instant.

"噢噌噌噗———"

It was the sharp spear piercing through the body of the saint, shattering the shriek from her spirit core.

----died.

Joan of Arc, who appeared as a follower, is undoubtedly dead, but the rising flame lost its original dim luster, just like a real red lotus blooming, and the demon fire that was originally full of resentment was in full bloom. This moment is purified and sublimated.

———It was a blazing, holy flame like a red lotus.

…………

…………

PS: Ah!This mountain!what!This water!what!This light!

what! wsl

Chapter 180 Six: This pain is not my resentment

"you----"

"Just like this, you are burned by the fire of my anger so that there is not even a scum left."

Said Joan Black, who almost completely reenacted the nailing of Joan to the stake and burning him at the stake.

Although the scope shown at this time is not too large, in fact this is a real [A+] rank [anti-army] treasure.

This is the cursed banner held by Joan of Arc, who came to the world as the Dragon Witch. In the name of an avenger, she magically converts herself and the resentment around her and burns them.The opponent's dishonesty, filth and independence will be burned to the marrow.

In other words, this is a terrible treasure that can burn all the unclean things in the immediate range after the treasure [true name] is released, leaving no residue.

———The Bishop of Orleans who was burned alive at the beginning of her summoning was the best example.

————No matter what kind of sin, what kind of filth, the flames full of anger and resentment are bound to be reduced to ashes.

——This will also be the final fate of the stupid and stubborn guy in front of him.

———as the price of betraying all the resentment one has carried.

That's what Joan of Arc thought, holding the banner with the black dragon on it.

"——————!!!"

However, when her eyes met the saintess in front of her again, a great sense of ominousness suddenly came to her heart.

The flame fueled by resentment and resentment was burning on her body, but Joan's eyes were unexpectedly peaceful, as if...

just like----

It's like——

"That" time is the same.

Black Joan's pupils shrank, and at that moment, in front of her eyes, a scene of light and shadow suddenly enveloped her memory like a faint mist.

------------------

"Crash....crack..."

Orleans, which was shrouded in clouds, was pattering with light rain.

It was as if God was mourning.

A 19-year-old girl, a 19-year-old girl dressed in pure white, was watching by the surrounding citizens, looking down from the Holy See, and walking towards the pile of dry firewood step by step after being escorted by the soldiers. cross.

The townspeople looked at her, the Curia looked at her, the soldiers looked at her.

But the holy girl did not respond to that malicious gaze.

———Her clear eyes still reflect this beautiful world.

------------------

"what------"

With a sudden scream, Joan of Arc, who hugged her head that was about to explode, bent down suddenly.

"Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah------"

This is————————————————————————————————————————————

Why——is the same memory, the same scene——but why the feelings in this memory are completely different———

Suddenly, the dark brilliance of the magic fire was reflected in Hei Jean's pale golden eyes.

"It doesn't matter anymore...it doesn't matter anymore...so...so...so..."

"Go to hell with your stupid kindness!"

"------!!!"

Black Jeanne raised her head abruptly, shouted loudly, and then froze for a moment.

what did she seeShe didn't see anything, everything was the same as before, the only thing that changed so far was the flame.

Her pupils shrank slowly, and the angry fire of resentment completely surrounded Joan's body, and then turned into pure red lotus fire in front of her.

"----what."

She opened her mouth wide, but only these two words came out in the end.