NOTES
The God Hand in this universe serve the Root itself. As such, expect massive power-ups to their usual selves.
Also, to avoid confusion, there are two names for Griffith and his armies.
The Band of the Hawk and the Hawk of Light/White Hawk both refer to the human Griffith and his mercenary group composed of solely mercenaries.
The Band of the Falcon and the Falcon of Light/Darkness refer to the reborn, God Hand member Femto and the army of Falconia.
This is a moved story from another platform. For returning readers, expect re-formatting. Lots of it. Due to no more images, it is recommended you look up characters that you do not know the appearance of.
Humans are frightening beings.
It doesn't matter who you are. Whether it'd be the King of the 72 Demon Pillars, the Mother of Genesis, or any other demonic Beast for that matter...
They all fall to this species, and King Goetia had learned this the hard way.
Despite all his might, all his power, all his accumulated energy, he still fell to a mere human, perhaps the most average human of all.
Fujimaru Ritsuka is an absolute nobody. He was the last candidate for Chaldea, yet, Goetia still fell to him.
That is the sheer tenacity humans possess. The ability to cling on to life.
Before his death, Goetia assumed one last form. Just out of sheer spite for the Master of Chaldea, he decided that he would feel human emotion moments before his death.
This form is the King of Humans.
In this form, his ability to feel human emotions made him the greatest possible king for humanity.
Out of all kings, he would stand the tallest, even far above King Solomon.
It is good to note that humanity's tenacity is not their only fearsome trait, but their collective unconsciousness gives shape to the world and will protect them if it has to. In fact, humanities greatest defense is the Counter Force, the abstract being born out of said unconsciousness.
Goetia's remains still exist.
They all yearn for The Absolute, the Blessed King of Longing who will bring paradise to the world.
So,
His remains are being formed into something greater. Something oh so great, that it can even alter history itself.
...
...
No.
This desire...
It all went wrong.
Despite the desire stemming from good will...
It all went wrong.
...
An ancient evil has infiltrated and sabotaged humanity's only hope.
"The revelations say that when the sun dies five times, a red lake will appear to the west of the city with a name both new and old. It is proof that the fifth angel will alight. The angel is the Falcon of Darkness. The master of the sinful black sheep, the king of the blind white sheep. The one who shall call upon the world an age of darkness."
The Hundred Years War, the Trench of Orleans
It's been a long and tiring war. England just never seems to back down, the French having to put up with it.
She took a look at the flag that she waved in every battle she was in. This symbol of hope inspires her and those around her for yet another long day.
She is Jeanne D'Arc, coming from humble beginnings to fight for her country.
What a patriotic girl, indeed.
Something caught her attention, however.
The laughter of a few people in the distance.
Jeanne perked up, looking to a group of people, all clad in armor. Clearly, they're here to fight for France, but...
There's also a flag near them, but that flag is different from the one belonging to France. It's very clearly avian shaped.
Why are they here?
If they aren't doing any harm, then I suppose there is no point in disturbing.
Just as she was about to move back up to check on England's forces, she bumped into a familiar face, the both of them backing away.
"Wah!" Jeanne let out, spooked. That familiar face is Gilles de Rais. A figure that's been helping her from practically the start of her inclusion in the war. "Gilles, you scared me!"
"My apologies, madame!"
It took Jeanne a moment to recover.
Gilles was not a scary man by any means, but suddenly bumping into each other when you think that you're alone is always spooky.
"Sorry about that." She looked to the side.
"No worries." Gilles easily reassured her.
Joan's awkward expression then turned into a concerned look.
"Are their forces here?"
"Oh, no, no, I only wanted to check up on you. That is all."
Said concerned look was washed away upon hearing Gilles' sentence.
"I appreciate that."
"Glad to hear. Are you ready?"
Jeanne gave off a smile, as pure and bright as the sun itself. "Of course! Always!"
"Very well. Let us move out, then."
Right as Gilles was about to move, Jeanne's voice stopped him. "Say, Gilles..."
"Hm?"
He let out without turning around.
"Do you happen to know those men?"
"I'm certain you are referring to the Band of the Hawk members in the distance. They're hired mercenaries and have quite the reputation. In fact, you've seen them before."
"Huh? No, I have not." Confusion arose.
"Not that certain group over there, but rather, their soldiers. They don't tend to wave their flag everytime, so it is understandable you did not recognize them. Though, I am curious..."
"About?"
"That's the leader over there, Griffith."
Gilles now turned around, his finger reaching out to point at the back of a man. He had long, wavy hair, shaped like the clouds. His armor shining, his cape white and elegant.
It's almost like he is a character from a fairytale. A chosen one of sorts, because he truly does stand out amidst all the faceless soldiers.
"What about him?" She questioned.
"Well, he just never comes down to fight himself, but now, not only is he here, but his personal circle is also present. Though, I suppose this is a crucial battle, but, regardless, I, for one, cannot wait to see him in action."
"I hope they don't disappoint. I haven't heard of them before."
"You will see."
As both Gilles and Jeanne were about to move, a soldier came rushing in.
"S- Sir! They're coming!" He yelled out, out of breath.
"Well, just in time."
De Rais once more turned to the small group of the Hawks.
"Griffith! With me!"
Gilles then ran outside, Jeanne following shortly after.
In the distance, enemy troops can be seen. They are charging straight ahead! It's a brutish tactic, indeed, but that's not important.
Jeanne let out a gasp in response to what was closer to her:
The Hawks, all ready to fight back. Rows and rows of mounted soldiers wielding flags.
In her moment of shock, she didn't even notice the leader of the Hawks riding on his horse, going to the front along with his greatest friend.
They remained in that position for a good minute or two, a few of the soldiers making small talk with each other. Suddenly, Griffith spoke up with his charming voice.
"Joan of Arc, accompany us! I'll ask of you to help us in this assault at the front of the line! Your inspiring presence is needed!"
Jeanne was stunned at the sight of the vast army, but quickly came to her senses. "Understood!"
Griffith
"Gilles de Rais, I would like to ask of you to protect the headquarters. You are the heart of this legion. Soldiers of France, for this moment, you are all now my soldiers. Follow my orders!"
Griffith unsheathed his elegant saber, pointing forwards as he let out with his calming yet commanding voice:
"First unit, advance!"
A few members of the forces at the front move towards the enemy.
"Draw swords!"
The first unit charged on. This timing needs to be precise...
In just a second, once they get enough distance...!
The White Hawk pulled on the reins of his horse, causing it to neigh.
"VANGUARD! CHARGE!"
And so, a large portion of the army charged with the exception of Griffith. It was kind of a mess for Jeanne considering she didn't have a horse...
Which is exactly why Griffith stood behind.
Once a majority of his soldiers were gone, Griffith turned to Jeanne, a neutral expression on his face.
"You poor girl. Come on. Watch my back, and I'll watch yours."
In his voice was an almost condescending tone, almost as if he's high and mighty above her, yet, it had the tiniest bit of charm that felt brainwashing.
"Erm... right!" Though a bit unsure of the man, she rushed forward, hopping onto Griffiths horse, sitting behind him.
"Don't lose your head!"
The both of them charge straight forward.
While the Hawks did seem to have many numbers, they were still outmatched compared to the force coming for them. It's clear just by looking at the ongoing fight between the two forces in the distance.
Despite that...
The forces of England were being temporarily pushed back!
"Amazing...! Your forces...!" Let out the amazed Joan.
They rushed straight into the mess of a fight.
Both Griffith and Jeanne swung at their opponents from the horse. Though, it was a bit of an awkward position, so they had to accurately jab.
It wasn't that bad. Not bad at all!
"Not bad for a simple girl from a village!"
He motivated. A wide smile came to Jeanne's face.
Not bad, indeed...
But not enough to repel everyone at once.
The English massively outnumbered the Hawks. Their small victory was only temporary.
With that said, the English forces started to push back.
"Now'd be a good time to pull back, boss!" One of his greatest soldiers called out.
The Hundred Man Slayer. Quite the helping hand to have in your army.
Following his friend's advice, Griffith raised his weapon to the heavens, yelling: "All hands! Withdraw! Fall back to headquarters!"
"C'mon, boys! Run for it!" Guts confirmed the order.
Not a single one of those soldiers were against their commander's orders. "Yeah!" They all yell out.
Unfortunately however, Joan was not filled in on the plan, leaving her confused.
"Wha-?!"
Before she could realize what he had just ordered, the Hawks had already turned around, heading the other way.
The English didn't give chase... yet.
"What in the world are you doing?!" She objected.
"It's called a strategy...! Have some faith!"
Is this really the plan of the undefeated White Hawk?
Eventually, the English started to pursue the battalion.
...
As planned, they took the bait and came on.
Everything's in the palm of your hand, as it always has been.
The group ran back to the remaining soldiers Griffith didn't order to move, reuniting. It's also good to note that behind them is a river.
"Haha, y'mean we're gonna take on all of them?!" One of the many soldiers let out, nervous.
"Take formation! It's do or die, we've no escape route! The river's behind us! Lay down your lives, there's no other chance for survival!"
Jeanne broke a sweat.
At this point, she's starting to think this guy is crazy.
"But... if we do survive, we will stand victorious!"
All the soldiers cheer on.
Here they come...!
And so, once more, both sides go to war with each other, Griffith leading the charge.
Of course, he'd be the one.
With that said, Jeanne didn't really have much of a choice in this battle. She has to stay mounted if she would like to contend.
The both of them continue their routine of awkwardly battling from the horse. I mean, that horse is only meant to have one person on it.
Speaking of staying mounted however...
One sword strike caught Jeanne off guard, knocking her off the horse.
"Joan!" He quickly stopped his horse in it's tracks, turning around to assist her.
When she was recovering, an English soldier approached her while still mounted, drawing his sword.
Too late for her...
Or not.
A blade went through said man's eye, causing him to fall besides Jeanne, his horse going past. She recoiled, backing away.
"Keep your head up!" Yelled out Griffith.
"Sorry!"
He rode past her, stabbing into a soldier before tossing him to the side. He eventually stopped in an area he deemed safe enough to command from, raising his weapon to the skies.
"Keep it up! They're falling back!"
His voice, his shining silver armor, it all motivated those around him even further. He then soon turned to a source of loud clashing between weapon, so loud in fact, that it absolutely eclipsed the other sounds in the arena.
It's him! Guts! He's in a fight with one of the commanders!
"Guts!"
It's a crowded mess in here. He can't get to Guts in time.
Though, while Griffith's focus was on his friend, another enemy is charging at him from behind. A cowardly tactic, indeed.
Fortunately...
He'll live.
Right as said enemy was about to strike at him, Jeanne blocked with the handle of her flag.
"Behind you-!"
The moment she said that, the English soldier's head was already cut off clean. He was quick to react.
"Much appreciated! Get back on!"
She nodded, smiling, quickly hopping back onto the horse. It neighs as the both of them charge into battle once more.
Maybe this man isn't as bad as she thought.
...
And so, begins a beautiful friendship- Well, no. Not a friendship, it's inappropriate to call it that. After all, to be his friend, one must have ambitions of their own.
Regardless, these two will be fighting alongside each other for a while.
The two saints of the Hundred Years War, perhaps they started to get far too close, to the point that...
Their fates were the same in the end.
Oh, poor heroes of France...
One tortured and burned at the stake for being a "witch", the other getting blinded by his dream, recklessly charging into what he assumed was victory, only to be met with gruesome torture by the same people he fought for, far more gruesome than hers.
Yet...
One did not die.
One still lives to this day.
If your dream still lives, if that castle still gleams just as brightly in your eyes, then it is your obligation to lay the stones that surround you now. Fate has set you free from human reason.
O' Blessed King of Longing...