"This should be interesting," Esdeath mused, a predatory grin creeping across her face.
Artoria, ever composed, cast her a sidelong glance. "Don't let your guard down. Carmilla and d'Eon are formidable opponents."
Across the battlefield, a mocking laugh rang out.
"My, how precious," Carmilla purred, her crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. "But even the King of Knights has little hope with a partner so... bloodthirsty."
Esdeath's grin only widened. "I don't need hope. Just power."
Without hesitation, Artoria charged, Excalibur gleaming as she sliced through the misty air toward Carmilla.
The Vampire Countess met her with a chilling smile, raising a clawed hand wreathed in dark energy. Their blades—one of holy light, the other of twisted malice—clashed, sending a shockwave through the battlefield. Neither combatant gave an inch.
Carmilla's lips curled in delight.
"Oh, how I do enjoy the struggle."
She lunged, her clawed strikes swift and relentless, forcing Artoria to pivot, block, and counter in rapid succession. Each strike tested the limits of her resolve.
Esdeath, meanwhile, turned her gaze to d'Eon, who stood poised in a defensive stance. Their rapier gleamed, fluid and graceful, like water flowing between Esdeath's cracks of ice.
"I don't enjoy playing with my enemies for long," Esdeath said casually, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "But for you? I think I'll make an exception."
She flicked her wrist.
A wave of razor-sharp ice spears erupted from the ground.
D'Eon's movements were like a dance, effortlessly dodging and weaving through the deadly assault.
"Brute force alone won't win you this fight," d'Eon quipped, smoothly deflecting another icy barrage.
Esdeath smirked. "We'll see how long you last."
She raised her hand. The temperature plummeted.
"Baal."
A surge of raw, draconic energy exploded from her body. Azure scales formed across her limbs, twin horns sprouted from her head, and a gleaming jewel embedded itself in her forehead. The air around her crackled with overwhelming power.
(Illustration)

D'Eon's grip tightened. "Tch…"
Then, in a blink, they lunged.
Their rapier became a blur, each thrust and feint executed with perfect precision. Esdeath, now transformed, met every strike with calm confidence, her movements sharper, faster, deadlier.
To an outsider, their battle wasn't a fight—it was an intricate dance, an exchange of skill and deadly intent.
Meanwhile, Artoria and Carmilla's ferocious duel reached its climax.
Carmilla lashed out with misty claws, aiming for any opening in Artoria's defenses.
Artoria's precision was unmatched.
With a surge of energy, she drove Carmilla back with a powerful strike.
Seizing the moment, she called out:
"Esdeath—NOW!"
Esdeath grinned.
"Let me show you my new power."
She raised her blade to the sky.
Lightning crackled.
"Bararāku—Lightning!"
A colossal bolt of energy descended, tearing through the battlefield, carving deep scars into the earth, obliterating everything in its wake.
D'Eon and Carmilla barely escaped—their instincts screaming at them to retreat as they staggered to their feet, eyes wide with shock at the sheer destruction Esdeath had wrought.
Then—
A commanding voice cut through the battlefield.
"Enough! RETREAT!"
A cold, ominous presence loomed from the crest of a nearby hill.
Jeanne d'Arc Alter stood, dark armor gleaming, her banner whipping violently in the wind. Malice burned in her golden eyes as she looked down on them with utter disdain.
Satria grinned, shamelessly taunting her.
"Aw, what's wrong, Emo-Girl? Running away already? Not so cocky now, huh? I thought you wanted to 'wipe the floor' with us? Come on, don't tell me that's all you've got! Bang Satria dilawan, land of dawn auto bergetar!"
To add insult to injury, he broke into a ridiculous dance, his mocking laughter echoing across the battlefield.
Jeanne Alter's eye twitched.
"Silence, IDIOT!"
Her banner snapped as her grip tightened in fury.
"You may have had the upper hand for a moment, but don't think this is over!"
She turned to her battered allies.
"Fall back. NOW!"
As Carmilla and d'Eon faded into the shadows, Jeanne Alter gave Satria one last withering glare before disappearing.
Jeanne sighed, rubbing her temples. "Master… That's enough. Teasing her when she's already given up is hardly honorable. You're acting like a child."
Crom folded her arms. "You just made me proud, and now you're already doing strange things again. Why can't you just be cool all the time, like when you faced Vlad before?"
Satria, completely unbothered, just shrugged with a grin.
As Jeanne Alter and her allies vanished into the shadows, the battlefield fell into a rare moment of silence.
Artoria lowered Excalibur, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She turned to Esdeath, who still stared at the retreating enemies, irritation flickering in her icy blue eyes.
"Running away… how pathetic," Esdeath muttered, clenching her fists.
"Victory isn't always about bloodshed," Artoria replied, though she knew it would do little to change Esdeath's mindset. "Sometimes, forcing an enemy to retreat is enough."
Before Esdeath could respond, a cheerful voice suddenly cut through the air.
"Good job! I knew you guys could do it!"
Naruto appeared in the middle of the group, his signature grin in place.
Artoria's eyes narrowed slightly, her stern expression softening. "Naruto… Where have you been?"
Her husband chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "Just taking a little walk through town—helping anyone who was injured by Jalter." He gestured to the distance, where villagers and soldiers stood a little taller, their eyes burning with newfound determination.
"After all, no one should have to suffer like this."
A brief silence followed—then, Gudako stepped forward, her voice filled with genuine admiration.
"Naruto-san… I've seen a lot of incredible Servants since coming to Chaldea, but what you did today—it was something else. You didn't just help these people… you gave them hope."
Mash nodded, her expression warm. "The way you do it is so selfless, Naruto-san. You didn't hesitate for even a moment. You helped everyone here without a second thought. That kind of dedication… it's inspiring."
Naruto grinned, slightly flustered.
"Aw, come on, it's not a big deal. I just did what anyone would. If you've got the power to protect people, you should use it, right?"
Even Jeanne d'Arc, who had been watching from nearby, found herself smiling softly.
"You are truly remarkable, Naruto. To have the strength to fight and yet still the kindness to heal…"
"Hmph! I can do that too!"
A pouting voice cut through the moment.
Satria crossed his arms, his lips forming a small scowl. "My healing power is even better than the blonde airhead's!"
A wave of giggles rippled through the group.
Jeanne chuckled, stepping closer. "It seems someone's feeling competitive. Don't worry, Master, we know you're strong in your own way."
Crom, ever amused, let out a hearty laugh. "Alright, alright. You've proven yourself, my cute little Emperor. You're just as impressive as anyone else."
Both Jeanne and Crom playfully patted his head, making Satria's pout soften into a satisfied smile. His cheeks turned slightly pink, basking in their praise.
"Vive La France!!!"
A ghostly light flickered in the distance.
A glass carriage appeared, its ethereal glow shimmering under the moonlight. Nearby Servants immediately tensed, their hands instinctively reaching for their weapons.
The glass carriage glided to a halt, its ghostly glow casting long shadows across the battlefield. The Chaldea group tensed, ready for anything.
Then, the door swung open.
The first to emerge was Marie Antoinette, her every movement radiating elegance. Her white gown shimmered like moonlight, and she gracefully descended the steps, raising a hand in greeting with a warm, diplomatic smile.
"Ah, it's lovely to see you all!"
A few wary glances were exchanged. Marie, as cheerful as ever, seemed blissfully unaware of the tension in the air.
Next, Mozart appeared, adjusting his cuffs with his usual air of smug confidence. He scanned the crowd, unfazed by the suspicious glares.
"It seems we've arrived fashionably late," he quipped, flashing a knowing smirk.
Following behind him, Elizabeth Báthory practically exploded out of the carriage, striking an exaggerated pose. Her punk-styled outfit made her stand out even more, and she flashed a fang-filled grin.
"Ta-da! The legendary idol has arrived! No need to panic—we're here to rock… or whatever!"
Then came green haired Kiyohime, moving with graceful precision. She gave a polite bow, but her intense, unwavering gaze sent an unsettling chill down Satria's spine.
Her calm voice did little to hide her burning resolve.
"No need to be alarmed," she said, her smile deceptively serene. "We're here to assist you."
The moment Kiyohime stepped forward, Artoria rushed forward and grabbed her hands tightly, relief flooding her features.
"You're finally here, ma'am! We've given up on that problematic boy of yours, and you're our last hope!"
Naruto nodded firmly.
"With Kiyohime-san here, we don't have to worry about the brats doing weird things anymore."
Esdeath, watching the scene with mild disbelief, let out a chuckle.
"Oh? The mother of Satria's household has come to discipline the naughty puppy herself?"
Kiyohime blinked, clearly confused.
"Um… Do I know you all? I don't recall us ever meeting."
Meanwhile, Satria had already taken cover behind Crom, his eyes wide with sheer terror.
'No. No. No. Not another her. One Kiyohime is already a nightmare. Two?! That's the end of my life!'
Crom smirked, clearly enjoying his panic.
"Alright, I'll protect you," she said, her voice dripping with amusement. "But you have to grant me one wish later. How's that?"
Satria peeked from behind her.
"Fine. But a reasonable one!"
As they spoke, Jeanne leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Master, who is she? What is your relationship with her?"
Before Satria could answer, Crom took the liberty of responding—and with a very amused glint in her eye.
"Oh, her? Think of her like your counterpart to Jeanne Alter."
Jeanne's eyes narrowed slightly, but she stayed quiet.
Crom continued, grinning.
"She's a strict one—a Japanese woman who doesn't tolerate nonsense. And, well…" She winked, watching Satria's discomfort grow. "She's what you might call the 'mother of this household.' She keeps everyone in line… including him."
Jeanne's gaze flickered toward Satria, who was now desperately avoiding eye contact.
"Master… you have a lot of explaining to do."
Jeanne's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat.
"Master? You… have… another wife?"
A sinking feeling settled in her chest. Slowly, she turned to Satria, her voice almost hesitant.
"How many wives do you have in your household?"
Satria winced, rubbing the back of his head. He could already feel the weight of Jeanne's stare, along with the curious—and slightly judgmental—gazes of those around him.
"Ugh… Promise me you won't get angry?" he asked, cautiously.
Jeanne nodded, though her piercing blue eyes told a different story.
Taking a deep breath, he braced himself.
"I have… ten wives."
Jeanne froze.
"Ten, you say?!"
Her voice wavered, not in anger, but in something unexpected—a quiet, unfamiliar ache. It wasn't just the number that stunned her; it was the realization that his heart wasn't solely hers. The thought sent an uncomfortable pang through her chest.
"You… How can you be fair to them? Don't you know it's a bad and painful thing for us women? Do you think we are trophies for you?!"
Satria felt his stomach drop. He hadn't wanted to hurt her.
"I... I'm sorry, it's not like that but—"
Before he could continue, Crom stepped forward, her posture confident, her voice calm yet firm.
"Satria may have more than one wife, but he is a good husband," she stated with unwavering conviction. "He is fair, patient, and always considers our happiness. His culture and his religion allow for polygamy—but only if the husband treats each wife with love and respect. None of us feel neglected."
Jeanne's skeptical gaze didn't waver.
"Love and respect? But how can he truly balance his attention between all of you? Isn't there jealousy? Why do you… love him this much? Even when… as you can see for yourself, he's kind of…" she trailed off, her cheeks pinking slightly.
Crom let out a soft chuckle, glancing at Satria, who looked completely flustered.
"We may be different, but we support one another. Satria goes out of his way to make each of us feel special, even if it means working harder than most husbands. He values our happiness as much as his own, and he never takes any of us for granted."
She smiled gently, her voice carrying a deep warmth.
"When the world feared and hated us, he was the only one who called us family. In this cruel world, that's enough to make us happy."
Satria felt his chest tighten at Crom's words. A sudden surge of gratitude and love overwhelmed him, and before he could stop himself, tears welled up in his eyes.
"Thank you, my love," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "It's true. It's not always easy, but I work hard to make sure each of my wives feels loved, appreciated, and understood. I wouldn't have chosen this life if I didn't think I could be fair to them."
Jeanne studied his expression carefully. There was no arrogance, no entitlement—only sincerity.
Slowly, she let out a small sigh, crossing her arms.
"I suppose… if it's truly accepted in your culture, and you're genuinely committed to keeping them happy, then I can respect that. But I'll admit, it's still a strange concept to me."
Then, she flicked his forehead, making him yelp.
"And stop crying! Why is a man with the nickname 'Golden Emperor' acting like a spoiled child? I swear… it makes me feel like I can't leave you alone out here, Master."
Satria sniffled, rubbing his forehead. "That's just because I have a lot of love to give."
Jeanne rolled her eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips.
As Satria, Jeanne, and his wives discussed the topic of polygamy, a small crowd had begun to gather, whispering amongst themselves.
Elizabeth Báthory tilted her head, arms crossed.
"Well, he seems fun. If his wives are happy with him, who are we to judge?" she said, nodding approvingly.
Marie Antoinette, ever the diplomat, rested a delicate finger against her chin. Her tone was thoughtful, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in her eyes.
"I don't know… I was raised with the belief that marriage is between one man and one woman. This is a little strange to me. But… they do all seem genuinely content. Maybe for them, it works."
She glanced toward Satria's wives, noting how at ease they were—how they neither competed for attention nor looked resentful. The idea was foreign to her, but… in her time, nobles often took mistresses in secret. Wasn't honesty better than deception?
Mozart, ever the carefree artist, let out a chuckle, adjusting his coat dramatically.
"Honestly? I think it's admirable that he's managing to keep them all happy. Most men struggle with just one! Balancing ten? Now that's a true masterpiece!"
Satria let out a small cough, unsure whether to take that as a compliment or a challenge.
Kiyohime, on the other hand, huffed loudly, crossing her arms.
"Hmph! I could never share! If I had a husband, I'd want him all to myself!"
Satria felt a cold sweat form on his back. 'This is why I keep my distance from her…'
"Um… Can we focus on the main problem?" Gudako interrupted, her voice cutting through the commotion. Her expression was stern, brow furrowed with concern. "We still have an anomaly caused by the Holy Grail to deal with. It's altering the timeline and warping the spirits here, turning allies into enemies. If we're going to fix this, we need to understand exactly what we're dealing with."
Jeanne d'Arc nodded, her gaze focused and intense. "The Grail's influence twists reality to reflect the desires—or traumas—of those close to it. That's likely why Jeanne Alter exists here. She's the embodiment of pain and vengeance, corrupted and empowered by the Grail's dark magic."
Naruto raised his hand, ever the direct thinker. "So what you're saying is… we find this Holy Grail, smash it, and boom—problem solved?"
Jeanne gave a small smile at his optimism. "If only it were that simple. The Grail typically lies at the heart of the distortion, but it's always protected—usually by those it's already corrupted. Jeanne Alter and her forces won't just let us walk up and take it."
Suddenly, all heads turned as Satria strolled casually into the middle of the group, holding the Holy Grail in one hand like a novelty item.
"What's so special about this teacup, anyway? I mean… it'd look great on my shelf. Maybe I'll take it home as a souvenir?" he joked, turning it over in his hand.
Naruto's eyes widened in horror. "Wha—SATRIA?!"
In a blur, Satria sheepishly returned the Grail to where Jeanne Alter had previously sealed it, whistling innocently.
"Damn it, brat!" Naruto barked. "You were holding the Grail?! Do you have any idea what kind of cursed nonsense that thing does?!"
Satria grinned. "Hmm? Me? Holding something? Nah, must've been your imagination, bro."
Gudako raised an eyebrow, confused by Naruto's reaction. "What's wrong, Naruto-san? You look like you saw a ghost."
"…Nothing," Naruto replied stiffly, though his sharp eyes remained locked on Satria. 'I'm watching you, brat. One more stunt like that…'
Crom sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. 'No wonder we call him "Puppy." Mischievous and always poking trouble. Definitely playful… sometimes too playful.'
Mash stepped forward, her tone thoughtful as she adjusted her shield. "It's possible the Grail isn't stationary. It may manifest in fragments or attach itself to key figures. If Jeanne Alter is one of those anchors, defeating her might disrupt its influence."
Mozart, who had been lounging dramatically nearby, let out an exaggerated sigh. "So we're stuck inside some tragic villain's opera… again. Wonderful. But convincing Jeanne Alter with reason? Not likely. The Grail doesn't just corrupt—it feeds off raw emotion. If we want to weaken it, we might need to reach the woman behind the rage."
Naruto clenched a fist with renewed determination. "Then that's it! If we can get Jeanne Alter to remember who she really is—before the pain, before the hate—maybe we can crack the Grail's hold on her."
Jeanne looked toward him, her expression softened with hope. "It's a possibility. But not an easy one. She's deeply wounded, her spirit consumed by suffering. We'd have to reach her heart… and that takes more than just words."
Just then, Satria stepped forward, expression suddenly calm and composed. His eyes gleamed with calculated intelligence, and his posture exuded a quiet authority that silenced the group.
"I sense… uncertainty," he said, voice smooth. "Fear. Doubt. All of it flowing around this battlefield like mist."
Everyone stared at him. His demeanor had shifted completely.
Naruto blinked. "Uh… what's with the sudden drama?"
Even Crom tilted her head, curious.
'Damn, do I already look like him? Beliau?' Satria wondered internally, basking in the moment. 'What do you think, Kyoka?'
Kyoka let out a laugh. "Pfft! I've only just gotten to know you and you're already pulling this nonsense? You're way too soft and silly to be him."
Satria pouted slightly, breaking his cool persona with a snort. "You're the worst hype-man ever, you know that?"
Jeanne blinked, slightly taken aback by Satria's sudden shift in demeanor. "Master… Do you have a plan?"
Satria offered a subtle smile, his eyes gleaming with a sharp, calculating light. "If you're looking to defeat Jeanne Alter, brute force won't be enough. She's more than just a powerful servant—she's an embodiment of twisted emotion, magnified by the Holy Grail. To truly defeat her, you must strike at the heart of what sustains her: hatred."
Mash stepped forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "How… how do we do that?"
Satria adjusted a pair of glasses that no one had seen him wear until now, pushing them up the bridge of his nose with mysterious flair. "Simple. You dismantle her from the inside. Jeanne Alter is a reflection—your shadow, Jeanne. She exists because of your pain and the world's betrayal. If you can make her question that purpose—just for a moment—you can crack the power holding her together."
Mozart raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "So we appeal to her former self… with memories of who she used to be?"
"Precisely." Satria nodded. "But that's only part of it. Jeanne Alter is surrounded by corrupted servants, each one bound to her cause—but not necessarily loyal to her heart. Many of them are vulnerable. We exploit that."
Gudako leaned in, clearly invested now. "You mean… divide her forces from the inside?"
"Exactly." His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Focus on her most unstable allies. Plant seeds of doubt. Whisper truths and lies alike. Twist their loyalty, remind them of their past ties, or the real Jeanne d'Arc they once knew. Create fractures. Those cracks will weaken her army before the battle even begins."
Marie Antoinette's eyes sparkled with realization. "If we can turn some of them—even for a moment—it could tip the scales completely in our favor!"
"Correct," Satria said, removing his mysterious glasses with a dramatic flourish. "And when the chaos begins… Jeanne Alter will grow desperate. She may lash out, make mistakes. That is when you strike."
Gudako's eyes lit up with admiration. "Satria-kun… that strategy is incredible! I thought you were just a weird guy with absurd strength and money. But now I see why you're called the Hero of Kindness."
Satria gave a polite nod, his smile enigmatic. "Kindness isn't always softness. Sometimes, it's understanding how to defeat evil without becoming it. Intellect is as sharp as any blade—use it well, and you'll find even the strongest enemies have weaknesses."
"Who the hell is this guy?" Naruto, Artoria, Esdeath, and Crom all muttered in sync, absolutely baffled. To them, Satria had always been a wild card—now he was delivering battlefield tactics like a seasoned general.
Jeanne stepped closer, frowning with concern. She placed a hand near his forehead. "Is it just me, or is My Master acting… off? He's never been this serious before. Do you think he has a fever?"
"Hey! What's with those looks?!" Satria's composure cracked, his face turning bright red. He pouted, crossing his arms. "I can be wise and responsible when I want to be! I'm not just some clueless goofball, y'know!"
The Evil Dragon let out a chuckle, patting him on the back with a sly grin. "Oh, of course, dear. It's just that... we're used to seeing you a little more, shall we say, chaotic. This version of you is... unexpected."
Kiyohime suddenly stepped closer, her eyes shining with unshakable focus. "Yes… let's find the Grail together. You're interesting, Satria-kun. And… I don't know why, but I feel a strange connection between us. Have we met before?"
"W-Wha?! N-No, definitely not! First time seeing you!" Satria waved his hands frantically, beads of sweat forming. 'She's too close! Nope nope nope—please don't awaken the other snakes! I want to live!'
The Chaldea group exchanged glances, united by a growing sense of purpose. With Satria's guidance and a brilliant plan in motion, they moved forward—not just to fight, but to heal what had been broken by the Grail's corruption.
The battle ahead would be fierce, but for the first time… it felt like they had a chance.
•
The night was calm. The crackling campfire cast a soft, golden glow across the resting group. Shadows danced quietly around them, but Naruto's eyes remained sharp, scanning the darkness.
Suddenly, his senses flared.
"Everyone, get ready!" Naruto shouted, springing to his feet.
The ground trembled. A thunderous roar echoed across the clearing. From the shadows emerged a massive creature—its form a hybrid of dragon and turtle, encased in heavy armor that gleamed like steel under moonlight.
Riding atop it was Saint Martha. Her expression was cold, resolute.
"I'm sorry," Martha called out, her voice carrying the weight of sorrow and conviction. "But I can't let you reach the Grail. For the sake of this land... I must stop you!" She raised her staff high, her eyes burning. "My name is Saint Martha! Consumed by madness—my class is now Berserker Rider!"
Jeanne's eyes widened in horror. "Saint Martha?! No… This isn't you! What happened? Where are the others?"
Martha gripped her staff tighter, and the dragon beneath her snarled. "Darkness has twisted this world. The Grail's influence spreads like a disease. I've seen what it does—and I won't stand by while it consumes everything. If that means opposing you... then so be it."
Her gaze turned grim. "As for your friends… my wyvern and the soldiers are already dealing with them. By now… they may be gone."
Naruto's fists clenched, blue chakra flickering around him. "Then we'll just have to beat some sense back into you! Let's go, Jeanne!"
Jeanne nodded, summoning her flag, the flames of determination in her eyes. "We can't afford to fall here. Let's end this."
"We'll hold her off!" Mash called, stepping forward and planting her shield firmly in the ground. "You two focus on bringing her down!"
Elizabeth laughed, brandishing her lance. "A giant turtle dragon? Finally, something loud enough for my singing to crush!"
Marie gave a graceful smile, calm yet fierce. "For France—and for our future—I'll give everything."
With a roar, Tarasque lunged, slamming its tail into the ground with crushing force. Mash raised her shield, the impact rattling her arms and sending shockwaves through the earth.
'This strength… it's unreal! And that speed…!'
Marie stepped forward, her parasol spinning with elegance. She summoned her Noble Phantasm—Guillotine Breaker. In an instant, a radiant illusion bloomed around her: a grand ballroom of shimmering light, filled with opulence and royal splendor. It was beautiful—deadly in its allure.
But as the magic raced toward Tarasque, it dispersed on impact.
'What…?! It had no effect?! My magic was negated?!'
Martha raised her staff and unleashed a blast of holy energy toward Naruto, who dodged nimbly. Jeanne surged forward to meet her, their weapons clashing in a brilliant shower of sparks.
"Saint Martha, please! This isn't the way!" Jeanne cried. "This isn't how we save the world!"
Martha's eyes were resolute. "Then prove it. Prove it through battle!"
The air grew tense. Energy swirled around Martha and Tarasque as as the Berserker Saint chanted a final incantation.
"Together, Tarasque! O, sad dragon who knew not love!" Her staff ignited with radiant energy. "Raise your boiling fervor to rival the sun! Let those who oppose you face judgment! Deliver the test of this one strike!"
Tarasque rose into the sky, now glowing white-hot, then shot downward like a falling star. The battlefield blazed with holy light.
Mash recognized the imminent danger.
"Everyone! Get behind me—now!"
"Mashu?!" Gudako's voice trembled, torn between awe and fear.
Mash planted her feet, shield at the ready. "True Name Registration—release! Noble Phantasm: Lord Chaldeas!"
A fortress-like barrier erupted around them, glowing with an ethereal sheen. Tarasque's holy blast struck it with explosive force, shaking the earth and sending shockwaves through the air. Mash groaned, bearing the full brunt of the energy.
"Doctor! She needs more energy, now!" Gudako shouted.
[We're giving everything we have! But even with reinforcement, her Noble Phantasm wasn't built for this level of power!]
Cracks spiderwebbed across the shield.
Jeanne took a deep breath, her voice calm in the chaos. 'Master… let me protect them. Grant me permission to release my Noble Phantasm.'
"Hm?" Satria's gaze sharpened. Then he smiled. "Of course. Show them the light… Saint of Orleans."
Sweat poured down Jeanne's brow, but her stance never wavered. "I… I won't give up. I will protect everyone!"
"Mash!" Gudako screamed as the barrier began to shatter.
But before the blast could break through, Jeanne stepped forward and placed a hand on Mash's shoulder.
"You've done enough," she whispered with a warm smile. "Let me carry the rest."
Mash's eyes widened. Her shield crumbled as Jeanne raised her banner high.
"O Lord… hear my prayer. Shine your light upon this land. I will be their shield. I will be their hope!"
"Noble Phantasm: Luminosité Eternelle!"

A radiant dome of holy light erupted around them, pure and blinding. Tarasque's divine strike slammed into the barrier—but this time, it held. The clash of holy powers lit the sky, illuminating the battlefield like sunrise.
Jeanne stood firm, her flag rooted like an anchor of faith. Her voice rang out through the storm.
"As long as I stand, none shall fall! I will protect those who believe in me… your hearts give me strength!"
Naruto, Gudako, and the others watched in awe from within the safety of Jeanne's radiant barrier. The warmth of her conviction washed over them, a light forged not from power, but from unwavering selflessness. She was a beacon in the night—a true saint standing tall against despair.
With one final surge, Luminosité Eternelle absorbed the last of Tarasque's assault. The battlefield fell still. Silence reigned.
Jeanne lowered her flag, chest heaving with each breath. Though her strength waned, her spirit remained unbroken. Her light endured.
But the peace was short-lived.
Before her, Saint Martha—bound by madness, snarling like a wounded beast—roared in defiance. Her eyes, once kind, now glowed with wild, frenzied fury. She no longer recognized friend from foe. To her, Jeanne was only a threat.
"No…" Jeanne whispered, anguish in her voice. Tears welled in her eyes. "Not like this."
With a scream, Berserker Martha lunged, staff raised to strike.
Jeanne gritted her teeth, raising her sword—its blade glowing with divine fire. "This has to end, Martha! If I can't save you… then I'll give you peace!" Her heart broke with every word, but her resolve never wavered.
She stepped forward—ready to end it.
But before the fatal blow could fall, a blinding light engulfed the battlefield, stopping both saints mid-motion.
A new presence descended from above—tall, luminous, and peaceful.
A silver-blue giant appeared, surrounded by a calming, celestial aura. His eyes shone with kindness, his presence serene yet powerful.
It was Ultraman Cosmos.
Jeanne staggered back, shielding her eyes. "What… is this light?"
Naruto blinked, baffled but unsurprised. "This brat really knows how to show up dramatic," he muttered with a smirk. "Would've saved us a lot of trouble if he showed up ten minutes earlier."
In his luminous form, Satria—merged with Cosmos—extended a hand toward Jeanne, his voice calm and resonant. "Jeanne d'Arc. You are a protector, not an executioner. Your heart is wounded—but justice must not be born of sorrow."
Jeanne's sword trembled in her grip. "Who are you… to say that?" she said, her voice cracking. "I'm trying to do what's right—I have to end this madness!"
Satria stepped forward, unwavering. His blue gaze met hers. "Rage will never lead to peace. Let me show you another way."
With a gentle motion, he released a wave of Luna Mode energy. The soft, glowing light wrapped around both Jeanne and Martha—soothing, healing, purifying.

Martha's growls quieted. Her breathing slowed. The madness faded from her eyes as she collapsed to her knees.
"What… what have I done?" she whispered, horror dawning on her face as clarity returned.
Jeanne, overwhelmed, dropped her sword. The holy fire faded, replaced by a deep, aching sorrow. "I didn't want this," she whispered, her voice trembling as tears flowed freely. "I didn't want to lose her…"
Satria knelt before them, his massive form glowing gently. "Even in pain, you still have a choice. Mercy… is a greater strength than vengeance."
As the light faded, the battlefield grew silent once more. Jeanne and Martha stood together—sisters not just in sainthood, but now in understanding.
Jeanne turned to the fading glow of Cosmos, her voice soft with awe. "Thank you… Wait—who are you?"
"I'm just a person who has a hobby of being a hero, that's all and it's Heroes of Kindness duty to help people in need." Satria gave a gentle nod before disappearing to somewhere, leaving behind a battlefield that had, at last, found peace.
A hush fell over the field.
"Heroes of Kindness…" Jeanne whispered. Her eyes widened. "Don't tell me…"
To be continued…