The moon is dark and the wind is high, the clouds are heavy and the fog is thick. This is a good weather for killing people and robbing people.

In a military tent in the French camp, there was only a little light of light illuminating.

Several dark figures gathered together and lowered their heads to discuss something, and finally ended with a familiar ending.

"Very good, everyone, everything we just said is what we want to do. As long as we complete all this, I promise that the Holy See will come forward and send special envoys to mediate the differences between Britain and France!"

"Thank you very much to Archbishop François for your generosity. Your contribution to France will be remembered forever. We hope that His Majesty the Pope will uphold justice, which is an important support for France!"

"Hmph, this should be fine. His Majesty the Pope will definitely not sit idly by and watch the scale of the war between Britain and France continues to expand. Such killing should not occur between God's people, and our blades should be aimed at those hateful pagans!"

"Yes, Archbishop. Your request will inevitably be met, and she will definitely die!"

"But I am worried that His Highness Charles VII will object to this action? You should know that the witch has almost become the only hope for His Highness Charles VII to restore the country!"

"You don't have to worry too much, Archbishop. His Majesty the King may feel unwell tonight and fall asleep early in sleep. And that witch, she will be sent to the guillotine to judge at the latest morning when the sun rises tomorrow!"

"Haha, that's good, that's good! Thank God, fortunately, most people in France are still normal."

"Of course, Archbishop, I think you can rest assured that the witch has no capital to be rampant except for some prestige in the hearts of the poor in the lower class. However, I hope that you can say more beautiful words in front of His Holiness the Pope next year, um...well..."

"What exactly do you want to say? Just say it right away. We don't have time to delay these details."

"After the Archbishop, the Marquis of Alonva meant that the church could reduce the burden on civilians. If these guys were not really living in a difficult situation, they would not have believed Joan of Arc's words and confused the public."

"How can I say that? Do you still need to care about worldly vision and judgment for your contribution to God? Everyone, including us, is a sinner, and even if you give your life to God, it should be our attitude!"

"Yes, the Archbishop said too well. Those civilians were too lazy to make such rude requests."

"Okay, that's all here. I hope you don't forget your promise tonight. At the latest tomorrow morning, I want to see that heresy being hanged on... No, just send it to the guillotine!"

"Yes, Archbishop, let's go and handle this matter now, and you will never disappoint!"

With a "hula" sound, a group of people walked out of the camp tent. The cold wind that aroused with their actions easily blew out the faint candle light, and the entire military tent fell into darkness again.

Only a black shadow was left standing in the middle, and the two eyes were extremely bright in the darkness, and even flashed with red light.

"Hmph, damn heresy, you finally have no choice, right? Quirking is useless. Nothing you say in front of absolute strength is useless. As long as you pass tonight, you will become a rotten history!"

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There were also whispers in the tent that was most protected in the military camp.

"Your Majesty, they have been persuaded by Archbishop François. They are now dispatching troops and preparing to launch a raid on Joan of Arc. Look, are we..."

"No, we use everything. Just stay in the tent quietly. Don't forget that I'm not feeling well now."

"But your Majesty, we cannot lose Joan of Arc. She is the guarantee of our victory! Now not only the poor people, but even many soldiers also regard her as the reincarnation of the God of War!"

"I know, I know, I know everything you said. But there is still no difference. Go to bed early!"

"Your Majesty, are you going to give up Joan of Arc and completely surrender to the Holy See? Without Joan of Arc, our soldiers would have fought at all."

"So what? If Joan of Arc was really not a witch, and all she said was true, she would not die. If she was just lying, hum..."

"...Your Majesty, are you going to verify the authenticity of Joan of Arc?"

"No, the fact that I want to know is very simple. Does the goddess she mentioned have magical powers? Does it really exist? Could it be that God is really dead? I need evidence! More direct and authoritative evidence! Before everything is clear, I can only go to sleep honestly!"

"…Yes, your majesty, I think I have understood your strategic intentions. So, do we need to do something else?"

"Of course, I think there should be many people who are very concerned about Miss Joan of Arc's safety."

"I understand, Your Majesty, this situation will definitely satisfy you."

"Well, you quit first, don't disturb my rest, this is very important! Let me say something else, you have to see clearly!"

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The next morning, everyone, including the French army and the people around him, heard a shocking news.

"What did you say? Saint... Saint was arrested?"

"This... how is this possible? I just fought a victory the day before yesterday. Didn't the men say that this was the victory of the Saint? Isn't this going back on my word? It's too fast!"

"Hmph, don't you know what those men are like now? Too naive!"

"It is said that Archbishop François, who was ridiculed some time ago, has returned. I saw with my own eyes that he came to the barracks last night. This conspiracy must be inseparable from him."

Not to mention that these people were puzzled, even many soldiers who were fighting side by side yesterday were very confused.

What exactly happened? Why did the generals send their personal soldiers to arrest the saint? What's more, it's not just that it's just to catch her. It's said that she will be executed this morning! God, she is a hero!

"Hero? Hahaha, you were wrong! She was just a shameful witch, a dirty heresy! The church has the power to execute this damn witch. Otherwise, more people will be hurt!"

Amid the harsh voice of Archbishop François, all the people and ordinary soldiers present felt a little unacceptable.

The saint, who was obviously invincible on the battlefield, was now like a delicate woman with a chicken-bound force, tied to the platform by several not very strong soldiers, only her smile was still bright.

For some reason, François felt very uncomfortable when he saw her smile, and even felt a little panicked.

But he just sneered and shouted: "You damn witch, are there anything else to say now? You will be executed in the next moment. It's better to wake up early and return to God's arms!"

"Haha, I have said a long time ago that gods will die, and of course I will not be an exception. However, I am blessed by the goddess, and even if I die, I can be resurrected. And it takes less than 3 days, just 1 day is enough."

Seeing that Joan of Arc was still so calm, Archbishop François finally calmed down. He shouted wildly: "Send her to the guillotine, execute me, execute me!"

"puff!"

Blood splattered, and the heads rolled to the ground. Everyone who was watching the punishment below was shocked: the heads were still smiling!
Chapter completed!