Jeanne didn’t know how to describe the feeling of using arcane spells, it felt like a kind of instinct.
It was like a skill she was born with; using arcane divine art, Jeanne never learned it, she just revisited it.
She could feel something invisible, operating both inside and outside her body.
When she wanted to release it, she only needed to combine the invisible with the tangible reality, and an arc would spring into existence.
"Ah!" A soldier screamed miserably, kneeling down, the armed sword in his hand falling to the ground.
His right hand was a bloody mess, several severed fingers were hanging by a tendon or a layer of skin, spinning in the air.
"Footwork, the key is footwork... Jeanne, don’t get distracted." Kicking an oak shield of a soldier, pulling out his flaming greatsword, Danji shouted at Jeanne.
Jeanne gripped the end of the battle flag, giving it a strong twist, the tip flickered a gunflower, turning into afterimages.
No matter which one was blocked, it would turn into a feint enticing an attack.
On the ground, three charred corpses already lay, two wailing people still remained.
The Armored Soldiers were already on their second bottle of courage potion and pain relief potion.
Clearly only two people, yet Danji and Jeanne forced this group of nearly twenty Armored Soldiers to retreat repeatedly.
At that moment, Quincy’s resentment towards Boned reached its peak.
If it weren’t for him, acting without consulting, using a once-a-day blessing on the Night Guards, how did the Armored Soldiers end up without blessings when facing a true enemy?
"Captain Quincy, Captain Quincy!"
Boned staggered over, handing the satchel to Quincy without a word.
"I will use the Scripture Recitation Divine Technique to restrain the Witch, during which I will have no self-defense ability, please guard me, my safety is in your hands."
Quincy naturally understood the stakes, not arguing with Boned.
After hastily explaining to Quincy, Boned wiped away the sweat from his forehead and began calculating.
He glanced at the sun, confirming the time was roughly between 7:00 AM and noon.
Looking again at Jeanne surrounded by lightning, confirming she was an enchanter-aligned Witch.
At the end of September, 7:00 AM, enchanter-aligned.
Boned quickly pulled out the almanac and Gospel from the satchel, confirming the effective Chapters and segments.
He took out a cross embedded with silver and amber from his chest, held between his little finger and ring finger, then retrieved a jar of luminous white Holy Oil.
He dug out a lump with his forefinger, spreading it evenly on his forehead and temples, his eyes slightly closed, body trembling slightly, letting out peculiar whimpering sounds.
The whimpering was thick and murky, but gradually, as the Holy Oil evaporated faster, it became distinctly clearer.
"... The governor asked, if everyone is guilty, who can be exempt..."
"... Miseria thrust a short sword into her chest, the ground shrouded by clouds of blood..."
"... Truthfully speaking, haoshubiluoxiabi..."
Boned’s voice echoed in mid-air, but it increasingly didn’t sound like his own, rather hard to discern male from female, as if ’They’ were speaking.
From the distant and sacred Paradise Mountain, ’They’ were speaking.
Boned’s body twisted unnaturally, his hands moved uncontrollably, blood gushed from his nostrils.
As the Holy Oil evaporated, a mysterious fragrance spread, yet Boned seemed muted, his mouth opening and closing silently.
For ordinary people, no sound could be heard.
But for Jeanne, that peculiar sound still hovered around her ears, desperately trying to burrow into them.
Strange patterns began flashing before Jeanne’s eyes, these patterns outlined numerous twisted designs, like ancient inscriptions, or the grain of a dead tree.
Every time these patterns appeared, Jeanne felt an unexplainable fear.
Reflected in the outside world, it manifested in fleeting distraction and spell misfires.
The glint of the sword jumped around, and the Armored Soldier’s blade struck down decisively.
With her right foot drawing an arc backward, following the extraordinary martial arts Danji taught, Jeanne barely evaded the blow but not without the sword’s tip leaving a scratch on her leather armor.
"... Miseria said, all creatures live on earth like donkeys and mules..."
The distant voice still lingered, biting onto Jeanne like a bone-biting plague.
Her figure wavered on the battlefield, the battle flag in her hand dancing continually, sometimes dodging, sometimes counterattacking, yet never able to break free from that invisible constraint.
Fine sweat began seeping from Jeanne’s forehead, she resembled a stuck robot, her movements powerful yet frequently pausing and veering off target.
Several times, if not for Danji risking his life to save her, she might have already perished here.
Side-stepping the slash of an armed sword, Jeanne awkwardly raised her hand, a bolt of lightning flew out, hitting the opponent’s shield, knocking them back.
Just as she straightened up, trying to catch her breath, she didn’t notice the venomous stare behind her.
"Jeanne, look behind you, be careful."
Surrounded by five Armored Soldiers, Danji used his greatsword to sweep, only able to warn Jeanne in the brief respite.
Upon hearing Danji’s words and feeling the wind behind her, Jeanne rapidly turned, pulling out a short sword to block.
Yet, just at this critical moment, the patterns appeared once again before her eyes, by the time she snapped back, half a second had passed.
Thus, Jeanne’s action was delayed for half a second before it was completed.
But it was precisely this brief half-second that made her miss the opportunity.