Black-haired Knight King of Chaldea

Chapter 416 The Saint and the Black Saint
This probably unfolded without anyone's expectation.

For a long time, that gentle and refined lady saint can beat people!No, it's fine to hit someone, but to directly hit the opponent's cheek with his fist!Wow!This one is so rare!

This saint, simply!It's beyond everyone's understanding of the saint!Even St. George on one side was stunned, reaching out to press his cheek, with an expression of not knowing what to say.

In fact, even Joan herself was confused.

(Wow! Lord, I, I really did it...Although, although it was Master Mirtha who said, she should be woken up with a punch, but, this, this is also...)
Joan of Arc stayed on the spot, covering her cheeks, stunned. Since she was created, Gilderrey followed him in everything. Although Catherine molested her, she did not hurt her. He had a headache, but he never hit him... This was the first time she was created, and she was slapped so hard in the face.

Compared with physical pain, the stain on dignity is more difficult for her to accept!

"You, you dare to hit me?!"

Black Joan squeezed out such a sentence from between her teeth.

Joan of Arc was also in chaos at first. Hearing what she said, she recalled what Mirtha had said to herself in the stable before, and managed to calm down, saying: "For a bad boy like you who is determined to go his own way, he needs a little lesson."

"Huh?! What qualifications do you have to preach to me!"

"me!"

Joan of Arc slapped herself hard on the chest, and let out a violent sound.Joan of Arc was startled by her sudden attack, thinking that she was about to strike again, so she quickly raised her hands like boxers to protect her cheeks.

"For you! I can't rest assured!"

Joan of Arc talked about her feelings in confusion.

Once you open your mouth, you don't need logic and rationality. You just need to follow the emotions overflowing in your chest and say what you think.

"You were created on the basis of me, as if you were my sister! Seeing my sister become like this makes me very sad!"

"I feel sorry for your sister! It can't be your sister! Burn you, bastard, idiot saint! Choke you to death!"

Her sudden remark made Black Joan not know how to deal with it.Subconsciously uttered malicious words, in short, first refuted her with cold malice.

Joan of Arc was originally a bit of a brainless girl. In fact, if you look through historical documents, you will find that many people say that her actions look like a berserker...very religious, stubborn And persistent pure mood.

Regarding Black Joan, Joan's mood is very complicated. On the one hand, she sympathizes with her and pities her, on the other hand, she also knows that she cannot be let go.

Before she knew that she was the real Joan of Arc, she once doubted her identity, doubting whether she or Black Joan was the real Joan of Arc.

Later, after confirming his thoughts, he couldn't help but feel pity for her again.

"...(softly) My lord taught me that when necessary, I should use my fist to let you understand my mood."

"Where did you come from, my lord! Hey! See it! There is a violent woman here! What a holy woman! Don't laugh so hard!"

Black Joan finally got up, waved the sword in his hand, and slashed towards Joan, but Joan didn't dodge or dodge, just let the sword cut on her shoulder.

No cut in.

Because, even if Black Joan was protected by a huge sea demon, she would still be exhausted. Even if she was left here and left alone, after two hours, she would die due to exhaustion of magic power.

Moreover, as the adjudicator, Joan has a fairly strong defense.

One side is at the end of the crossbow, and the other side is proficient in defense.

"You are an angry saint! Let's see if you can win or I can win! Is it my hatred that can win or your mercy! Come and try!"

Following Joan of Arc's unwilling roar, another burst of fire ignited from her sword blade, burning on Joan of Arc's shoulders. Under the rendering of the flames, Joan of Arc's expression was calm and serene, just like the one who was burned at the stake that year. At that time, that calm appearance.

"You, you guy..."

Black Joan continued to mobilize the magic power unwillingly, and the flames on the blade rose even more violently.

"Why are you! Don't you feel pain? Do you look down on me! My flames can't hurt you! Are you mocking me, damned lady!"

Joan of Arc gritted her teeth and growled, but Joan of Arc just shook her head with a slightly mournful brow.

"No, I don't hate France. I don't hate England either. How should I say it, because... that's what war is all about?"

"You, you really make me angry! Damn it!"

Joan of Arc's magic power was activated more and more violently. However, she didn't even notice that starting from the steel boots on her feet, her figure had gradually turned into golden particles.

Originally, there was only half a breath left to barely support here, and at the same time, she was baptized by so many treasures, how could she carry it with her poor defense?

St. George was safe and sound thanks to those pure white phantom horses. Only once, the damage he received could be completely nullified.But she, Joan of Arc, has nothing.

She was born for revenge, and all her abilities are only for fighting. She is like a raging fire, she doesn't know how to protect herself, she will only burn herself more and more hot.However, as long as there is enough water, it will be watered out.

She thought that attack was the best defense.But in fact, it is not.

"Sure enough... words alone can't communicate with you. So... I want to be sympathetic..."

Joan of Arc pulled out the saber that had been stuck in her waist, and stabbed it along the heart of Joan of Arc.

Half of the blade pierced Black Joan's back with blood, Joan stretched out his hand, hugged her shoulders, and held her in his arms. And keep going deeper.

"Heh... what are you... Saintess... Didn't you... kill me in the end...Obviously, she's just a village girl..."

"Well, so, what's wrong with a village girl? I am an illiterate village girl, a dead-headed, kind person, and a simple village girl. I am a saint, an ordinary village girl, and What can't be done."

"Hmph... really made me laugh to death."

Black Joan's expression couldn't tell what it was like.

She stretched out her hand, and the black gauntlet was already stained with blood. Her palm pressed against Joan's cheek, leaving only a bright red handprint.

Joan of Arc, as she claimed, rescued Joan of Arc with compassion.

Infected by Gildera's frantic obsession, a fictional vengeful saint.

The golden particles dissipated from her arms, like a golden butterfly rising in the wind, the French singularity officially ended.

"and many more?"

When Yagi Yusai, who had been watching the battle until the end, wiped away the moved tears from the corners of his eyes, he suddenly realized a problem...

"Where's the Holy Grail?! Where is the Holy Grail?! It's not in Guildrey's hands, nor is it in the hands of Black Joan. Where is the Holy Grail?!"

(End of this chapter)