752: Chapter 748: Holy Maiden or Witch (Please Subscribe, Requesting Monthly Tickets) 752: Chapter 748: Holy Maiden or Witch (Please Subscribe, Requesting Monthly Tickets) “Hold on, Gilles!
We’re almost there.” Joan of Arc supported the gravely wounded Gilles de Rais as they hurried along, encouraging him as they went.
At that mont, the two were being pursued by the Witch Hunters and Paladins of the Church.
To protect Joan, and because Joan refused to kill, Gilles de Rais inevitably sustained injuries he shouldn’t have had to endure.
Had it been just the Paladins and Witch Hunters, Gilles de Rais might not have been able to kill, but he wouldn’t have been so hard-pressed to manage.
However, with the arrival of the Ascetic Monks sent by the Holy See, Gilles de Rais found himself swamped, struggling to cope.
And upon realizing that Joan was unwilling to kill, the fervently faithful Paladins of the Church naturally did not miss the chance to exploit this.
They mounted a frenzied onslaught of suicidal attacks, all adopting a tactic of trading life for injury, not aiming to kill Joan but only to wound her.
To wound Joan, these Paladins, who were already willing to sacrifice their lives for their faith, nearly threw themselves onto Joan’s sword.
In such a situation, even though Joan had beco nearly divine, she was hampered and restrained, and Gilles de Rais, in his effort to protect her, was pierced through the chest by a Paladin’s Sacred Sword, grievously hard.
Though such a wound might not have been fatal for a Vampire, it still drained a great deal of Gilles de Rais’s combat strength.
He could only progress with Joan’s aid, significantly slowing her down.
“Joan, leave behind!
Once you reach London, just do as I told you, and you will be able to open the passage to The Land of Avalon.” Gilles de Rais did not want to be a burden to Joan, so he shook off her support and said to her as if giving his last testant, “Once you enter Avalon, these pursuers won’t be able to touch you, King Arthur will help you.
As for here, leave it to !
Although I’m spent, I can still buy you so ti!”
“No!
Gilles, I can’t let you sacrifice yourself for again!” Seeing Gilles de Rais, barely able to stand, block her way and speak these words with his back to her, Joan could not possibly let her comrade in arms sacrifice himself for her again.
“No, Joan, my Holy Maiden, I was willing to sacrifice my life for you six hundred years ago, and now I am rely fulfilling my promise from back then.” Gilles de Rais’s face bore a satisfied and blissful smile, as if he had no regrets in this life, “Failing to save your life six hundred years ago is the greatest regret of my life, but now, to die for you, I have no regrets left.
It’s just a pity I can’t continue to accompany you, my Holy Maiden!”
Just as Gilles de Rais finished speaking, the pursuers had gradually caught up.
Seeing the pursuers reappear, Gilles de Rais interrupted Joan, who wanted to say more, and roared at her, “Run!
Rember what I told you, go to Avalon and find King Arthur!”
After shouting at Joan, Gilles de Rais charged toward the Witch Hunters chasing them and cried out, “I am the Guardian of the Maid of Orleans!
Baron La Vallière!
Marshal of France Gilles de Rais!
Face , you curs!”
Crying out his titles, just as he had when charging the British People six hundred years ago, Gilles de Rais still appeared to Joan as the knight who, back then, loved his country deeply, fought alongside her, and had provided her with much aid and protection.
Watching him rush towards those Witch Hunters, rely to secure her a chance to escape, despite how much Joan internally did not want to be an enemy of the Church, she could not stand by and watch her most important friend be slain by the Church’s Witch Hunters.
She drew the Sword of Saint Catherine, and as before, Maid of Orleans charged forward, shielding Gilles de Rais and with a single stroke, repelled the onrushing Witch Hunters.
However, facing the Maid of Orleans, nearly a deity in strength, and her Sword of Saint Catherine, these Witch Hunters showed not a hint of nervousness.
In fact, during their pursuit of Gilles de Rais and Maid of Orleans, such situations had occurred countless tis.
Whenever Gilles de Rais tried to intercept them to allow Maid of Orleans to escape, she would return to rescue Gilles de Rais who was under attack, but Maid of Orleans, who was unwilling to kill, could only exert two to three percent of her nearly deity-like strength without taking lives, as she had not fully mastered her own powers without intending to kill.
Moreover, the Witch Hunters and Paladins who ca after them this ti were the elite of the elite, perhaps not as formidable as Van Helsing who hunted Count Dracula, but they were far from helpless against Maid of Orleans when she refrained from killing.
After several encounters and realizing that Maid of Orleans truly did not kill, they no longer feared the powerful Holy Maiden and resorted to all kinds of desperate asures.
Every ti, Maid of Orleans would be hampered and constrained, forcing Gilles de Rais to protect and rescue her, which is how he ca to be wounded.
If it were anyone else, Gilles de Rais might have killed everyone in his path and left, but for Maid of Orleans, he considered it blissful to be wounded or even to die for her, and being cared for by Maid of Orleans after getting injured only added to his happiness.
But this ti, Gilles de Rais knew that he probably would not survive, as the Ascetic Monk sent by the Holy See was drawing ever closer.
If they could not leave imdiately, with their current pace, they would definitely be caught by that man capable of summoning Angels to descend, and by then, even if he wanted to sacrifice himself to buy Maid of Orleans ti, it would be difficult.
With this in mind, Gilles de Rais had no choice but to yell at Maid of Orleans, “Go!
Stop wasting ti!”
“No, I will never let you sacrifice yourself for !” Maid of Orleans firmly grasped her sword and faced the oncoming Witch Hunters, and this ti, she finally did not hold back.
With a single sword stroke, like a teor streaking across the sky, the dazzling light vanished in an instant.
The advancing Witch Hunters stalled, the sound of blood spurting from their veins like the wind.
They fell.
Ultimately, the Sword of Saint Catherine inevitably, after six hundred years, was stained with fresh blood again, but this ti it was not to defend France, but to protect a most cherished friend.
The following Ascetic Monk saw the slain Witch Hunters and, filled with rage, pointed at Maid of Orleans and loudly condemned her, “What blasphemy is this!
How dare you impersonate Maid of Orleans and kill the Lord’s followers!
You evil witch!”
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