I weave fate in parallel time and space

Chapter 421 Her soul does not belong to you

"Joan of Arc Dacre, the Supreme Court now reads the verdict to you.

Joan of Arc, a major war criminal, joined the Third Army of the West French Army in early 1915 and served successively as assistant to the army commander, staff officer, and general staff officer.

Participated in and commanded many battles against Prussia and Germany. During the Berlin Blitz, Joan of Arc commanded the army to kill more than [-] prisoners and non-combatants in the Wolfsburg area, most of whom were young and old.
On the battlefield of Verdun, the army commanded by Joan of Arc massacred 10 Germans.

In the second half of 1916, Joan of Arc committed a brutal war crime, dropping weapons to bomb Dresden and leveling the entire city.

Hundreds of thousands of innocent people died in this bombing.

Based on the above conclusion, the first paragraph of Article 2 of the Criminal Procedure Code; the second paragraph of Article 20 of the Hague Road Regulations, the third paragraph of Article 40, and the first paragraph of Article [-] of the Hague Road Regulations should be followed;
Articles [-] and [-] of the Convention on the Treatment of Prisoners in Time of War;
Article 11, Article 20, Paragraph [-], Article [-], Paragraph [-], Article No. [-] of the Regulations on the Trial of War Criminals; Article [-], Article [-], the preceding paragraph, and Article [-] of the Criminal Law No. [-].

Because the crimes committed by the criminals were so heinous, the courts invoked the abolished penalties.

War criminal Joan of Arc Dacre was sentenced to be burned at the stake. "

The Supreme Court in Berlin was Prussia's highest legal institution. Only the most heinous criminals and complex cases that could not be tried by lower courts were dealt with here.

The entire courtroom was very large and empty, and the judge in a wig even had echoes when he recited, looking very majestic.

Joan of Arc stood in the middle hearing seat, quietly listening to the judge's verdict.

Her hands and feet were bound by chains, and she was still wearing the Western French military uniform, with her long blond hair hanging casually behind her head.

She is not very tall, about 1.6 meters [-], and due to many days of malnutrition, her figure looks very thin.

Her face was pale, but her eyes remained unchanged, and her body even stood straight, and she did not lower her head because of the sentence pronounced by the judge above.

The verdict was very long, several thousand words long, and most of it was about things she had never done.It can be said that they went to great lengths to confirm her guilt.

Behind her stood many soldiers and many upper-class people from Berlin, while behind the wide open door stood many civilians, who were also listening.

Hearing this penalty, the upper-level personnel and soldiers behind him were very excited and clapped behind.

The civilians were also talking in the rear.

Soon, the presiding judge finished reading the verdict and looked at Joan of Arc.

"Joan of Arc Dacre, can you plead guilty?"

"Not guilty." Joan of Arc said, raising her head slightly.

"I have a clear conscience for what I did in this war.

All the Western French soldiers who died in this war died defending their homeland.

I will not tarnish their bravery and justice in the slightest.

Slander and smear will not wash away the sins you committed in this war.

History will give justice. "

"Not guilty?" The judge narrowed his eyes and said with suppressed anger, "Not even a hint of green has grown on the land of Dresden."

"So, why were you cast into Katyusha?" Joan of Arc asked.

The judge stared at Joan of Arc quietly, "So, does the defendant have any other evidence?"

"Evidence?" There was a touch of contempt in Joan of Arc's eyes, "Everyone in the world knows that you are launching a war of aggression, not a patriotic war.

It's okay to deceive others, but don't let lies deceive yourself. That's very sad. "

Being ridiculed by Joan of Arc, the justice's face was full of anger.

“It’s useless if you don’t plead guilty, the evidence is overwhelming and the verdict has been handed down.

Someone, take her to the Old Market Square and punish this witch who has committed such a heinous crime in front of the citizens of Berlin! "

The soldiers on one side came over and pulled Joan of Arc out of the court.

Originally, according to normal procedures, the execution should have taken place a few days after the trial.

But obviously, since the signing of the armistice treaty, the domestic chaos has made Malfoy very anxious. He is eager to push Joan out so that the people can have an outlet.

So at noon on the day of the trial, Joan of Arc was pushed to the execution ground.

It wasn't even a place of execution, but in a public square, they set up a frame for burning at the stake.

Burning at the stake was abolished many years ago because it was too cruel and caused the deceased to suffer tremendous pain before death.

The most common death penalty in this era was hanging, but obviously, perhaps another person named Joan of Arc died at the stake. Malfoy was afraid of Joan's supernatural power and wanted to kill her in the same way.

Or maybe it's because Malfoy simply hates Joan of Arc and wants to execute her in a more cruel way.

Joan of Arc walked in chains to the old market square of Rouen, where the execution was to take place.

There were people on both sides of the streets she passed. Ever since she left the small village, she had been surrounded by all kinds of adoring people, and all she could hear were cheers and praises.

But now there was a large and mocking crowd surrounding the roadside, clamoring to kill her.

It seemed that in an instant, she was the enemy of the whole world.

Her steps were very steady, she said nothing, and she held her head high, as if everyone around her were noisy flies and could not affect her at all.

She was silently led up the steps and burned at the stake.

There were many people around the square, and Malfoy may have informed the whole city about the execution in advance.

A lot of firewood was placed around her, and even gasoline was poured on it, but the distance was far away from the stake, so that she would not die so quickly.

She slowly turned her head and looked at the other side of the square, where was the balcony of a high-end restaurant.

Malfoy sat on it with his legs crossed, looking at her with interest. There was tea on the coffee table beside him, and there was even a waiter protecting him from the sun.

Jeanne didn't say anything, she just turned her head.

What is truly frightening is the night before the trial. The waiting is always the most excruciating.

But when it came to this moment, Jeanne's heart was very peaceful.

After ordering the bombing of Dresden, many nights, many nightmares appeared in her dreams, which were the despair and fear of the people of that city as they faced the last moment.

Although, as she said, she did not regret dropping the nuclear bomb, as a devout believer, she was still shrouded in guilt for the loss of such a large number of lives at her hands.

But now, this fire seems to be able to wash away the pain in her heart.

Before coming to Berlin, she had no preparations to go back alive.

Joan of Arc kept praying, looking at the soldiers in front of her, and begged, "Can you place a cross in front of me?"

The soldier who carried out the execution was the soldier who had followed Malfoy into Montjuic a few nights ago. After they looked at each other, they found two sticks and put them together and handed them to her.

But then, a priest pushed through the crowd and walked out. He placed a golden cross in front of Joan of Arc, and then took away the wooden cross.

This golden cross is the cross in his church.

She knew the priest, the priest in whose church all the prisoners at Montjuic Castle went to say Mass. His name was Martin Levineaux.

The priest glanced at Joan sadly, then slowly retreated from here, silent.

The soldier on one side picked up a burning torch and moved it to the firewood filled with oil.

Soon, the fire started to burn quickly, and because of the blessing of oil, the flames directly jumped to a height of several meters.

The heat wave surged around, causing the theatergoers to subconsciously take a step back. From their perspective, Joan of Arc had been completely engulfed in flames.

In the flickering firelight, the girl's figure could be vaguely seen. Of course, since the firewood was some distance away from the girl, the flames would not engulf her directly.The scorching heat will bake her until her body reaches the melting point and spontaneously combusts.

The crowd in the front row could even hear the girl praying loudly in the flames.

Human beings are very complex creatures, and not everyone in this world thinks the same way.

Just now, the people Joan met when she came out were ignorant people who were easily led by the public opinion of the upper class. There were also some whose husband died in the war with West France, so they had hatred for West France.

Some of the people surrounding them were veterans from the battlefield. In the past, they felt that they were fighting for the country under the exaggeration of the government, but they were left out in the cold after returning from the service with disabilities.

Germany was already overloaded with the work of resettling disabled soldiers, so these soldiers felt that they had been deceived and hated the government and West France.

Others were just joining in the fun. They listened to Joan of Arc's devout prayers and watched the raging fire gradually devour her body, with unbearable expressions on their faces.

In the alleys on the edge of the market square, a group of dirty, oily men slowly walked out.

They were wearing overalls and pliers on their waists, as if they had just come out of a factory.

There were many people gathering in the square, so the surrounding soldiers did not notice them.

If you observe carefully, you can also see that they are equipped with some weapons, but they are hidden under their clothes.

Among these crowds, a figure walked out. He was wearing a coat and had short hair. His face was thin, his cheeks were sunken, and his complexion was very bad, like a terminally ill patient.

If you observe carefully, you will find that he is Joan's former cellmate in Montjuic-Fermin.

He was looking at the flames in the middle of the square absentmindedly, and on one side, a short, fat, middle-aged man wearing overalls also came out and said solemnly.

"We are late, sir. I didn't expect Malfoy to be in such a hurry. As soon as the verdict was handed down, he was immediately taken to the center of the square for execution."

Fermin closed his eyes tremblingly and clenched his fists.

The fat man asked tentatively, "What about us?"

After a moment, Fermin squeezed out a voice from his throat.

"It's not the best time yet."

He slowly opened his eyes, his eyes were red and his voice was slightly trembling.

"When the best time comes, we will clearly settle the accounts between her and all the comrades who died at the hands of these damn imperialists."

However, as time passed, the eyes of the people watching the burning in this square showed some doubts.

Because the prayers in their ears have not stopped.

Seeing this scene, everyone was whispering to each other, a little strange at this magical scene. .

The several soldiers who presided over this punishment looked at each other in confusion.

Malfoy also frowned. He couldn't sit still and went directly to the edge of the balcony and roared at the soldiers in the center of the square.

"What are you still doing? Add firewood! Pour in the oil and make the fire bigger. I don't believe she can't be burned to death!!"

His voice echoed in the square, and the soldiers reacted and quickly added firewood to the fire in front of them. When building the torture rack, they had already prepared a lot of firewood in case of emergency.

However, the firewood piled around Joan of Arc was enough to burn three or four people to death, and they did not expect this result.

As they added more firewood, the flames spread higher.

A breeze blew by, and a lot of fly ash was flying in the sky, like swaying black petals, and a raging heat wave surged around, making the soldiers and the crowd subconsciously take a few steps back.

Joan of Arc in the middle was also parched by the blazing flames, and her whole body was sweating profusely, but the clothes on her body protected her from harm.

However, the degree of protection that can be achieved is limited.

If the roasting continues like this, then he will not be burned to death, but roasted alive.

The billowing smoke eroded into her lungs, causing her to cough uncontrollably. The raging heat wave hit her respiratory tract, making her trachea painful. She felt as if her entire body was burning.

I wonder if it was because my consciousness began to blur and hallucinations appeared in front of my eyes.

In front of her eyes, a being wearing a black robe and a bone mask appeared. The black coat fluttered with the heat waves generated by the burning flames.

His body was full of uncertainty, and even Jeanne felt a little fear in her heart.

"That's death."

But at this moment, a familiar voice came to her ears.

The voice was very close, as if someone was whispering in her ear, familiar and warm, as if hot wind was flowing through her ears.

"die?"

"Yes." The man whispered, "If nothing happens, your fate will end today, and your life will come to an end at this moment."

"Is that so?"

Joan of Arc felt that her eyelids were heavy, and the black shadow in front of her eyes was gradually approaching her.

"I'm ready..."

"Despite the fate, your will is the strongest I have ever seen," the voice said with emotion.

He was silent for a while, "Do you want to die?"

"I think no one would want to die, right?" Joan of Arc replied in a hoarse voice, "It's just that compared to my ideal, death is the most insignificant thing."

"However, it seems that your ideal has not yet been completed. The real root cause of the war has not yet been completely eliminated."

"I've planted the fire."

"But don't you want to see it with your own eyes?"

The man whispered softly.

"See that...all people are equal and no longer have to worry about their lives and future being taken away by weapons of war.

People no longer need to hold weapons to kill, but can choose to hold a paintbrush, a musical instrument, or a future where they can run freely on the green grassland..."

Jeanne's spirit seemed to be restored a little by this voice.

Her eyes were blurred, "Maybe it will be wonderful."

The voice was silent for a moment, then said with a smile.

"as you wish."

At that moment, she was no longer bound by the burning stake.

A familiar figure appeared behind her and held her in his arms.

The figure was tall, perhaps because Jeanne was so thin, like a father holding his daughter.

The embrace was very warm, and Joan felt that the heat wave and smoke that had caused her great pain had left her.

The man slowly raised his head and looked at the black figure not far away, looking at "death".

"Go away." The voice came to her ears again, "Her soul does not belong to you."

Compared to the gentleness just now, this sentence is full of majesty and unquestionable...

Under Joan's gaze, the "death" slowly disappeared in front of her as he spoke.
(End of this chapter)