Jalter made her way to the root of all their problems: that damn egg. Up close, it was gigantic and emitting a sinister aura. All to familiar to the former French heroine.
"How revolting... to think that people would risk their lives protecting this... maybe burning them was not that bad of an idea..."
She wielded her flagpost and prepared to charge toward the huge object when suddenly an invisible force stopped her. It was like something had frozen her body in place, allowing no further motion in that direction. Pulling back, she looked around and saw someone. However, it wasn't exactly what she had expected.
There was a sort of altar, adorned with many kinds of herbs and precious stones, and, in the middle of it, a fire was burning, and a man, as old as the earth beneath him, was sitting in midair, his eyes closed, praying, as many amulets hung around his neck.
"Great, just what I was looking forward to brighten this already shitty day... a creepy priest-wizard living fossil. Hey, you, you do know what you are doing here, right?"
There was no answer.
"Apart from being blind, are you also deaf?"
No response.
"You damn geezer! That does it!"
Jalter charged at him. The old man slowly opened his eyes.
"Give us agreement with our own; with strangers give us unity
Do ye, O Asvins, in this place join us in sympathy and love.
May we agree in mind, agree in purpose; let us not fight against the heavenly spirit
Around us rise no din of frequent slaughter, nor Indra's arrow fly, for day is present!"
As he proclaimed this hymn, an old book richly decorated appeared in front of him, its pages shifting on their own. Once he was finished, an invisible barrier similar to the one set up around the egg appeared.
"How bothersome... I was trying to end this quickly for both our sakes. But this seems quite a bother... a barrier that prevents all aggression and creates a space of peace... peace, huh? Wouldn't that be nice... it is my natural enemy, after all, even if I wanted to cease feeling any hatred, I could not. It's engraved in my being. Well, if you want to play it completely defensive, fine, but just know that if you don't do anything, I'm going to go back... and slaughter all your friends."
Having said that, Jeanne turned around, only to feel a sudden force pushing her away.
"Didn't expect this to work so well..."
She said as she turned around, revealing her sword. The old man had completely opened his eyes. Although they were white, it didn't seem like he couldn't see, rather he could see far more than most. Behind him, a figure emanated from him, like a huge statue of a being with four heads and four arms.
"Through continuous pursuit of truthfulness, perseverance, knowledge and restraint, one attains the Soul.
MANASAPUTRA - Protective idol of the Creator"
One of the statue's hands moved, attempting to crush Jalter, only for her to dodge and avoid the second one coming at her and slash at the third one with her sword. A cut appeared on the sage's arm.
"A link between the user and his summon... that can be exploited."
One of the many herbs flew over to the old man and covered his wound. As his amulet shone, his injury was quickly healed.
"You really are a stubborn geezer."
She lifted her sword as black flames started to sprout from it.
"That witch! Burn her! Burn her!"
Jalter turned around, looking for the person who said that, but there was no one there. The fourth hand sent her flying as the statue pursued her.
"Damn it... I swore to myself I would never have to do this ever again... and yet... here I am... in the battlefield... what am I doing here? What are you doing here, idiot? Don't you know that you hate fighting? Hate, hate, hate... that's all there is to me... all I am is a legend shaped by hate... there's no place for love in my existence. I thought this was what I wanted, I thought at least I could come to terms with this... and yet..."
The figure of Bhrama used all its limbs to squish her into a pulp. A second later, it started to burn away. Flames escaped from it as Jalter left her flag on the ground, wielding her flaming sword.
"I HATE IT!"
After healing himself, the old sage said a prayer, then clapped his hands, and another figure of Bhrama appeared.
"I told you... that my hate has no bounds... and now that you've made me used this, it's all directed toward you, you geezer. If you want to die so badly, then I have no choice but to use this.
Come, Fafnir."
In the alternate timeline Jalter was from, it's a common legend that everyone in France now. The Fallen Saint, on her journey to free Orléans, entered a cave and found the legendary slayer of the hero Siegfrid. One look at the warring maid and the dragon immediately submitted to her.
During her trial, she was accused of riding that dragon into battle and in the night, during her communions with the Devil. And that rumour spread and endured the test of time, so much so that many statues of Joan d'Arc represent her riding this fearsome dragon.
While it is true that this Jeanne fought a dragon, and that dragon may or may not have been Fafnir, she killed it and never kept it as a companion. However, the power of this legend made it possible for her to summon it by her side, much to her dismay.
In fact, of her three Noble Phantasms, Jalter felt that none of them represented her anymore. One was based on a fake story, one was the sublimation of her useless fight for fake ideals she never believed in, and one turned her into the monster she never wanted to be.
The dragon roared as it immediately rushed against the statue, enduring its hits and chomping on the head, as Jalter used it as a staircase to stab it in the head. Meanwhile, those voices from before kept echoing in her head.
"Our little girl is a saint!"
"Shut up..."
"She's a prophet! She's a miracle! God's messenger!"
"Shut up..."
"She's the spawn of Satan! The devil's concubine!"
"Shut up!"
"The Dragon Witch! She's coming this way! Run!"
"SHUT UP!"
"Ahh! The witch! The witch is escaping! She's burning everything! She's God's mistake!"
"SHUT UP!"
Jalter shouted as she breathed heavily, her eyes not seeing reality anymore, only an everlasting fire.
She felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Calm down, Jeanne. I'm here. We're here. It's OK. You're not alone."
"What... who... what are you doing here?"
"We won, we're all waiting for you, Jeanne. You can do this. I believe in you."
Galter's voice was soothing and slow. Yet it felt like a command. An obligation. She hated it. But hearing those words coming from that man, she came to the painful realisation that it was necessary. Her hate was still needed. She gathered the loathing that she felt from this notion and opened his eyes.
She pointed to the sky with the tip of her sword, Fafnir behind her, waiting for her orders.
"Burn him to a crisp, Fafnir."
The dragon obliged and released a flaming beam. Extending his arms, the sage gently sang a hymn, or more accurately, a series of mantras. The fire close to him soared high and formed a great fireball that clashed with Fafnir's attack.
"O' Agni, I give my soul to you
Show the path of rightousness even in the darkest night.
YAJNA - Sacred ritual of the Fire God"
Piercing through it, it got closer and closer, until it was about to engulf Jalter and Galter. Calling the flag back to her, Jalter waved it around, and the fire started twisting, stopping and, slowly, moving in the opposite direction.
"Turn everything to ash...to dust.
My hatred will destroy everything.
LE GRONDEMENT DU HAINE - Roar, Rage of Mine"
The fire, increased even more in its potency, crackled against the barrier, before penetrating it and turning everything in that direction into a scorched earth.
"If anything was going to get through that thing, it would have been that sacred fire of yours."
Jalter said as she lowered her head and Fafnir dematerialised.
"Well done, Jeanne, I'm proud of you."
"What are you doing, idiot?"
"Praising you."
"What am I, a little girl? And stop patting my head."
"Ow, ow, don't move around so much, moron."
Jalter turned around and saw that Galter was carrying Salter as she looked like she couldn't stand.
"Took you long enough, you witch."
"At least I can still walk, dog."
"I can kick your ass even in this state."
"I would like to see you try."
"Oh, don't be so mad, are you upset this sucker has his arm wrapped around me tightly."
"This bitch!"
"Don't... say it like that, you're making this weird..."
"Focus, idiot, I'm about to fall..."
"That's because you're not holding onto me..."
"If I had the strength to do that, I wouldn't ask for your help in the first place."
"At least put some effort... you're not light you know..."
"What was that?"
"Nothing..."
"Hey there! I'm glad you guys are fine!"
"Nero! I'm glad you're ok! You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, not really, and Arty is with me, and she's fine too!"
"Yeah, I was lucky Avalon activated, or I would have been in trouble."
"Yeah, this Avalon thing sure is convenient!"
Nero and Artoria descended the cliff on which they were standing.
"Geez, you think that old man is ok?"
"Who knows, he seemed to have many tricks up his sleeve. He wasn't a slouch if the people you fought left him to protect the egg."
"Any idea on who he was?"
"He recited prayers from a book, was the offspring of Brahma's mind, and controlled the sacred fire of Agni..."
"He's Atharvan, the author of the Atharva Veda."
"Ah, Goldie! There you are! Why are you all bandaged up?"
"Not something I want to talk about right now. More importantly, we have to destroy that egg quickly before... hmph... it's too late."
There was a sound behind them. The huge eggshell started to show cracks, until...
it cracked open.