dkrc Chapter 2010 The Intersection of History and Reality: Gaul Never Betrayed Joan of Arc
Chapter 2010 The Intersection of History and Reality: Gaul Never Betrayed Joan of Arc
Chapter 2010 The Intersection of History and Reality: Gaul Never Betrayed Joan of Arc
Upon hearing this, the old man didn't speak, but simply blinked hard to suppress the soreness in his eyes.
He turned around and, with his uninjured arm, began to clear the rubble in front of him with even greater effort; his movements were a bit too vigorous, raising dust that made him cough a few times.
More people joined in the silent labor.
Yes, Joan of Arc in history books died, perished in the flames of betrayal.
But at this moment, in Arles, in countless Gallic towns ravaged by mutated creatures and shrouded in despair, in the eyes of every survivor rescued from the clutches of monsters…
She was Joan of Arc.
She is the Orleans girl who transcended time, betrayal, and fire, and once again fought for this land she deeply loved.
It is the light of legend shining into reality, the most real hand reaching out from the abyss of despair.
They may be unable to explain, need not explain, and are unwilling to explain.
All they need to know is that when she stands here, the direction the flag points is where hope lies.
As dusk deepened, a bonfire was lit on the ruins.
Joan of Arc sat on a relatively clean rock, accepted a cup of hot water from an old woman, thanked her softly, and sipped it.
The firelight illuminated her dusty yet still bright profile, and also the people who were gradually gathering around her.
Exhaustion, sadness, relief, and uncertainty about the future all flickered uncertainly in the leaping firelight.
But when their gaze fell upon the silver-armored girl sitting quietly drinking water, these chaotic emotions seemed to settle down, transforming into a silent trust.
History and reality, amidst the ruins of Arles and in the gaze of the survivors, completed a handover that transcends time and space.
Meanwhile, in Gaul, in the city of Flora.
The once brightly lit and romantic "City of Light" is now shrouded in the shadow of war and tension, even though it is no longer threatened by mutated creatures.
The blackout left most of the city in darkness, with only important facilities and defense points illuminated by sparse lights.
The Champs-Élysées is no longer frequented by leisurely tourists; instead, it is now filled with patrolling armored vehicles and reinforced roadblocks.
The Eiffel Tower has become an observation tower and communications hub, with searchlight beams occasionally streaking across the leaden-gray night sky.
Inside a building guarded by elite troops, in a conference room, Gaul's leader and several "advisors" who had demonstrated value or been absorbed into the system after the spiritual resurgence were having a discussion:
"The situation in Arles has basically stabilized. Casualties are 40% lower than expected. Fortifications are being repaired rapidly, and public morale is exceptionally high."
A middle-aged man pointed to the map on the projector and reported.
His voice was steady, but there was an inescapable heaviness between his brows.
"This is the seventh time in the last three months, isn't it? The beast tide diversion in the suburbs of Lille, the deep-sea mutant landing and interception in the port of Bordeaux, and those shelters in the southern mountains that were almost wiped off the map."
"As expected of Joan of Arc!"
What do the public think?
Sitting at the other end of the long table, an elderly man in a suit asked slowly.
"Regard them as gods."
The head of the intelligence department, a woman with a cold and stern face, spoke on the phone.
"Or rather, it is regarded as the rebirth of 'that' saintess."
"Public opinion has become almost fanatical, especially in the areas that were directly rescued."
“Her portraits and simple flags began to appear, and there were even spontaneous prayer gatherings.”
"Public opinion has become almost fanatical, especially in the areas that were directly rescued."
“Her portraits and simple flags began to appear, and there were even spontaneous prayer gatherings.”
After the stern-faced female manager finished speaking, the conference room fell into a brief silence.
Everyone present was already fully aware of all this, and in fact, they may have been intentionally or unintentionally fueling this wave of fervor.
"They regarded her as a deity, or rather, as the rebirth of 'that' saintess."
The old man repeated the sentence, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the smooth tabletop, making a soft tapping sound.
He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over his colleagues. His eyes held weariness, heaviness, and an almost cold clarity.
"We anticipated this from the moment she first appeared in reality, quelled the first beast tide with that banner, and introduced herself as 'Joan of Arc,' didn't we?"
"It could even be said that we, through the limited channels we could still control, implied, tacitly approved, and even to some extent promoted the spread of this understanding."
"She is the saint in history, Joan of Arc, who answered the call of Gaul when it faced extinction once again and returned to save her people."
"why?"
He seemed to be asking himself a question, or perhaps questioning everyone else.
"Because the people of Gaul need hope, they need a pillar of support to hold onto in times of despair!"
"Joan of Arc is not just a historical figure or a hero to our people; she is a symbol engraved in our blood, the 'miracle' itself, and the embodiment of the Gallic spirit in its darkest hour!"
"Whether we admit it or not, in the hearts of countless ordinary people, and even in the subconscious of many of our soldiers, including myself, she represents a belief."
"As long as Joan of Arc is here, Gaul will be here; as long as we follow that banner, there is no obstacle we cannot overcome!"
"This belief, in times of peace, may only be a story in textbooks or a decoration at celebrations, but at this moment!"
"When mutated creatures roam the countryside, when familiar order collapses, and when death and despair become the norm, this long-buried faith becomes the spark that holds people together and ignites courage!"
The old man pressed his hand heavily on the map showing large red warning zones across the country.
He took a deep breath, as if to suppress some emotion rising in his throat, and continued to state in as calm a tone as possible a fact they had analyzed countless times, yet which still shocked them every time it was brought up:
"Do you remember the first time we saw the surveillance footage of her battle?"
"Before Joan of Arc arrived, the garrison and the people were resisting, but their morale was low, their tactics were chaotic, many were just carrying out orders out of fear, and there were even individuals who broke down and fled."
"Their weapons and abilities are not weak, but in front of those mutated beasts, they seem to be bound by invisible chains, unable to use even half of their full strength, and only thinking about how to save their lives and how to escape."
"But when that light descended from the sky, when that figure, shouting 'In the name of the Lord,' raised that banner so familiar from the legends..."
"Everyone's eyes have changed."
"Fear was replaced by fanaticism, the scattered formation spontaneously reformed, and those who had previously only dared to hide behind cover and fire roared as they raised their bayonets and launched a counter-charge!"
"Those superhumans who were afraid in battle suddenly became incredibly powerful."
"We initially thought it was the influence of that saintess's power that fueled everyone's fighting spirit, but after our investigation, we found that this was not the case."
"The reason why the people became stronger was because of the existence of Joan of Arc herself."
The meeting room fell silent again, with only heavy breathing as the sound.
They had long accepted this conclusion, but every time it was explicitly mentioned, they still felt a profound shock on a spiritual level.
The power of faith, no matter how many times it is used, will always seem incredible.
"Gallic society can still maintain its general outline. Major cities like the City of Flowers, Lyon, and Marseille can still hold their ground. The will to resist at the grassroots level has not collapsed. That walking 'saint' is largely to blame."
"Even though the cities and people she single-handedly saved represent only a small fraction of our vast territory and casualty figures, the symbolic significance she brought is priceless."
"She made those in despair believe that 'miracles' could happen, reminded the scattered troops that the slogan of 'fighting for Gaul' was not just empty talk, and enabled every survivor who heard the news of her defeating the beast tide somewhere again through the intermittent radio signal to hold on for one more day in the darkness and guard one more crossroads."
The head of internal affairs spoke in a low voice.
"In a sense, she single-handedly took on the work that our entire propaganda system and morale maintenance department were almost ineffective, and the results were many times better."
The old man nodded, looked at everyone, and said in a serious tone:
"Therefore, regardless of who she really is, whether she is a ghost of history, the embodiment of some powerful being, or simply a superhuman named Joan of Arc who inherited the will and power of that saint, to us, to Gaul, she is 'Joan of Arc'."
"We must uphold this understanding and solidify this symbol."
"Because the people need her, and this country, at this moment, needs even more the almost faith-like cohesion she brings."
"As long as she is still fighting for this land, and still raising that flag under the skies of Gaul, she is the saint we officially recognize in history, Darque."
The old man's words fell in the conference room, and everyone nodded, their faces showing deep agreement.
The air froze for a few seconds. The old man cleared his throat, preparing to tackle the next thorny issue.
Just then, a slightly hesitant voice broke the silence.
"Um, please wait a moment, everyone."
The speaker was a young man sitting at the back of the long table. He looked to be in his early twenties, with a scholarly air about him and frameless glasses perched on his nose, making him seem somewhat out of place among the somber-looking people in the room.
He was a member of the "Advisory Group" and was exceptionally recruited because of his "Second Sequence" level ability, which he awakened at the beginning of the spiritual energy revival.
At this moment, his face showed obvious hesitation and contemplation.
"Regarding Joan of Arc's identity,"
“Our discussion just now was based on the premise that ‘she needs to be Joan of Arc’s sister’ and that ‘she might be the successor of Joan of Arc’s will’.”
"But is it possible that she is the real Joan of Arc, the girl from Orleans in history?"
"Not an inheritor, not an imitator, but the one who should have died in the flames, who has truly returned in a way we cannot yet comprehend?"
This question caused the atmosphere in the meeting room to freeze.
Many people frowned, thinking that the young man was being unrealistic. The people needed hope, Gaul needed hope, but rationality would not be affected by the need for hope.
How could the dead Joan of Arc be resurrected in the present?
Perhaps someone has this ability, but someone with this ability has no reason to do it.
"If, and I mean if, she really is Joan of Arc, then why would she come back to save us?"
“I have read some relatively objective historical records. Although we now honor her as a ‘saint’ and a symbol of the nation, this was true much earlier, after she was captured.”
“Gallic people, or rather, those who controlled her fate at that time—the royal family, the church, and even a segment of the population—actually betrayed and abandoned her.”
His words were difficult, but he persisted.
"Charles VII, the king she personally handed over to the throne, did not do his best to rescue her after she was captured."
"She was handed over to the British Empire, subjected to an unjust trial, and falsely accused of being a heretic and a witch. Finally, she was burned alive in the square of Rouen."
"Among the onlookers, there may well be compatriots for whom she once fought."
"Despite the pressure from enemy countries, the complex situation, and internal strife, the fact remains that she was burned at the stake by her own people."
"If she really was Joan of Arc, having personally experienced all of that, being used, betrayed, and enduring physical pain and the torment of her faith in the flames."
"Why, centuries later, in this future that is equally unfamiliar to her, when Gaul faces another crisis, would she still choose to stand up and save us?"
The meeting room became even quieter.
They may recognize her as a "saint" for practical reasons, and they may publicize her achievements and symbolic significance, but if she really was herself, why did she save Gaul?
The old man leaned back in his chair, shook his head with a slight chuckle:
"Your question touches on the gray areas of history, as well as the complexities of human nature and choices."
"First of all, we need to clarify one point, which is also our basic stance and historical understanding as a country and as future generations."
He looked at the young advisor, and then at everyone present, and said, word by word:
“Gaul, or rather, Gaul at that time, did not 'betray' Joan of Arc with any subjective intention.”
"This point must be clarified."
“After Joan of Arc was captured by the Burgundians, Charles VII, the king she had crowned, was not heartless and indifferent.”
"On the contrary, he immediately issued a strongly worded warning to Philip III, Duke of Burgundy, through diplomatic channels, clearly stating that if Burgundy dared to hand Joan of Arc over to the British Empire, Gaul would not let the matter rest."
"Furthermore, Charles VII also sent soldiers to try to establish a blockade near Borwa, where Joan of Arc was imprisoned, to prevent her from being transferred, but they failed."
"We must understand Charles VII's situation at that time."
"He had just been crowned at Reims Cathedral, and his throne was far from secure. There were some things he didn't want to do, but rather things he simply couldn't do with his power at the time."