Author's Note: Yo. Chapter 9 here.
The two polls that I put up were very close…for the most part. The First Poll, as to what the plotline of this next couple of chapters is going to be…well, just read it and you'll get the gist of it.
The second Poll, regarding the next three Heretic Gods that will appear, was a surprise to me. In first place was Freya. You guys really wanted her…she had just under twice the number of votes that the second place deity…Azazel…has. In third place was Horus, which concludes the line-up of the next three gods.
They will not be introduced in that order, of course. I will be plotting the storyline for them and it will be interesting, that I can promise you.
I also have a request for all my readers; when you review, guest review or regular review, please don't ask about other stories. Keep to the story that you are reading. If you have to ask about my other stories, send me a PM.
One final piece of news. I have decided to update my stories on a Wednesday, once a week. My schedule will be posted on my profile…at some point. Yeah, I just keep forgetting to do that, but it will get done at some point.
As always, Read, Review and check out my other stories!
Disclaimer: I do not own Campione!
"Godō" - Regular Speech
'My Everyday life…!' - Thoughts
"God Slayer!" - Heretic God/Powered Up Campione speech
"Fire!" - Magic/Authority Use
Chapter 9: Heretic Goddess Joan of Arc and…?
Plane, en route to Rouen
"I'm honestly surprised that he let you go." Rebecca said as Jean finished telling her about her clash with the King of Swords, "Lord Salvatore is infamous for not taking no for an answer."
"I think it was because I was at least willing to try before bowing out." Jean mused, "Although, I am still shocked that he withstood my [Seismós Tríaina] without even moving! He took an earthquake to the gut without as much as a flinch!"
"About that…when were you going to tell me about it?" the English witch asked.
"Err…it slipped my mind?" Jean replied with an embarrassed shrug as she sat up straighter in her seat, "Honestly, the last five days have been hectic, to say the least."
Rebecca's eyes softened at that. It was true enough. Jean had fought a millennia-old sea god, died, been reborn as a Godslayer, defied an older and more experienced Campione, fought another powerful sea god and then dealt with a politicking Paladin before having to fight yet another of her siblings.
"True." she said softly, "So anyway…what Authority did you receive from Davy Jones?"
"I haven't checked yet." Jean replied, "Hold on a moment."
The Scottish girl closed her eyes and sank inside of herself, until she opened her eyes in the focal point of her power. Surrounding her were the symbols of her Authorities from Poseidon. They had been separated to make way for a new symbol. Standing between the trident and the floating mural of the earthquake authority was a single sword, a cutlass, surrounded in an eldritch green aura.
Jean probed at it with her mind and came to a conclusion about what it was and what it did.
"[The Curse of Davy Jones]." she muttered before returning to consciousness.
"Well?" Rebecca asked.
"It's one Authority split into two parts." the Campione replied, "As an Authority, I will call it [The Curse of Davy Jones], but it is actually two Authorities that have been linked together.
First is the part inherited from the Jonah superstition, [Jonah's Jinx]. It allows me to curse those who have wronged me in some fashion."
"A curse?" Rebecca wasn't sure how she felt about that.
"Nothing too serious." Jean reassured her, "It's just a bad luck curse. Those who have been cursed suffer from middling bad luck, which is magnified to high bad luck when on a seagoing vessel."
"Sounds as if it's just the kind of thing you need to deal with any mage Associations that get on your wrong side." Rebecca smirked, "A shame you didn't pull it out with the Order of Crossed Swords."
"That's the irritating part." Jean replied, "The curse lasts until one of three conditions are fulfilled; the death of the cursed person, me lifting the curse or the cursed one making proper restitution for wronging me. The Paladin forfeited his boat to me as restitution, so the curse wouldn't take hold on him anymore."
"Ah well." Rebecca shrugged indifferently, "What about the second part?"
"The second part of the Authority…is a disturbing one." Jean shivered, "I call it [Dead Man's Chest] and it allows me to summon the drowned dead as my servants."
Rebecca recoiled. "That sounds like Marquis Voban's [Death Ring] Authority!"
"What are the details of that Authority?" Jean asked, "I think you told me about it before, but I can't recall more than the name."
"It allows Voban to resurrect those he kills as beings forced to do his bidding." the Witenagemot Witch replied, "He can even use it on battlefields to interrogate the spirits of the deceased. None of the dead he has raised in either case can refuse his orders."
"I see." Jean nodded, "In my case, it's just summoning and reanimating the bodies. No minds or souls are involved. It might be a good way to distract my dear brother Godō while we are in Japan."
"Why would you say that?" Rebecca asked in confusion.
"The Sea of Japan is full of dead bodies." Jean replied thoughtfully, "Kublai Khan's three invasion fleets adds up to well over 140,000 men on their own, not to mention all of the sailors and pilots on both sides who died in the time between then and World War 2. I could very well have an unending army if I wanted to."
"Brrr." Rebecca shivered as he mind conjured a vision of an unending wave of skeletal and half-rotten bodies marching onto the land.
"Not a pleasant thought, I know, but I do have to plan my eventual confrontation with my youngest brother." Jean reminded her, "And, as distasteful as the walking dead might be, they will be useful to tie up my brother's companions while I deal with him."
"It won't be all that useful against Lord Alec, though." the witch pointed out.
"True, but one can hope that he's keeping his nose out of my business." Jean replied, "I think he'll have enough to cope with dealing with his organisation, considering he's been away from it for quite some time."
"His [Black Lightning] Authority allows him to travel exceedingly fast." the Hearth Witch warned her King, "It is why he is so effective at being a thief. He can get into anywhere he wants in the world in less time than it takes to click your fingers twice. He is a cunning adversary and not one to underestimate."
"Noted." the Scottish Campione nodded, "To return to Joan of Arc…or Jeanne d'Arc as she's referred to in France. If I recall your description of Heretic Gods correctly, she would come under the heading of a Goddess of [Steel], correct?"
"You remember right." Rebecca replied, "She will have a lot of powers to do with fighting, I suspect. Additionally, there will be some…difficulty, due to the fact that she is a Christian Heretic God."
"Oh?"
"Christianity rose over most of the Pantheon-based religions and stamped out their worship; meaning she might have at least one Authority that will lessen the effectiveness of any so-called 'pagan' deity Authorities." Rebecca explained, "In addition, she was supposedly spoken to by three Angels or Saints; Michael, Margaret and Catherine, so it is a possibility she could summon them as subordinate deities."
"Subordinate deities?" Jean asked in puzzlement.
"Lesser gods summoned by your main opponent." Rebecca explained, "A good example would be Sun Wukong, who summoned his sworn brothers Zhu Bajie and Shā Wùjìng during his battle with King Kusanagi and two other Campione. They cannot exist in this world without the Heretic God that summoned them."
"Perfect." Jean grumbled before tilting her head at Rebecca inquisitively, "You seem to know a lot about Joan of Arc."
"She was my heroine as a child." Rebecca admitted with a slight blush.
"I think it was the same for a lot of girls." Jean replied.
"If I remember correctly, 'Jean' is the Scottish equivalent of Jeanne and Joan." Rebecca mused, "Even although it is the Scottish form of Jane as well. It means 'The Lord is gracious' I think. A prophecy about your tenure as a Campione, perhaps?"
"I was named after my Great-Great Grandmother on my father's side." Jean stated, "She was a redoubtable woman, according to my father anyway. So great. My name is related to Joan of Arc. Any other titbits about our next opponent?"
Rebecca paused for a moment to organise her thoughts. "She was famous for keeping a banner near her almost all the time while she was on the battlefield, so that's likely to do something. In addition, she was a master orator, very passionate. She was able to convince Kings, Nobles, soldiers and peasants of the veracity of her divine mission, so it's likely she'll be able to use that to convince ordinary humans that we're the bad guys."
"Great, she can riot the crowds." Jean muttered.
"Beg pardon?" Rebecca asked.
"Ever heard of the Mistborn books by Brandon Sanderson?" Jean asked with a smirk, "In them, a particular kind of magic user could use their powers to either 'quell' a crowd or 'riot' them. Calm them down or rile them up, in other words."
"Oh. I should try those sometime." the witch remarked, "Anyway, I can't think of anything else that could be an Authority for her. She will undoubtedly have more to call upon, but those should be the main ones."
"I see." Jean mused, "Well, if that demagogue-like one holds true, you will be staying at the hotel. If she can mind jack regular humans, that means that magic users would be no exception."
"Damn." Rebecca cursed, "You are right, but I'm not happy about it."
"Uh-huh. Now, where would she appear from?" Jean mused.
"A number of places could be the emergence point." Rebecca replied, "Rouen Castle -or at least the keep of it, which is all that remains on the Rue du Donjon- is where one of her trial sessions was held. The Church of Joan of Arc, formerly the marketplace where she was burned at the stake. The Mathilde Bridge that crosses the river Seine, where her ashes were cast into after her execution."
"So basically, it could be any of them and yet none of them." Jean grumbled, "Perfect."
"I called ahead and booked a suite at the Hotel de la Cathedrale." Rebecca changed the subject, "It isn't far from the cathedral and you can just get a taxi to any of the possible locations we've mentioned."
"We'll have to get our hands on some more Euros." Jean noted, "Stupid currency."
"Considering how many countries have declared bankruptcy since it was started, I would have to agree with you." Rebecca nodded, "Get some sleep, Jean. You'll need it, like as not."
"I hate flying." the redhead muttered as she closed her eyes and started to drift off.
Peak of Mount Olympus (Throne of Zeus), Greece
The Heretic Goddess Athena slammed the butt of her scythe into the rock beneath her feet, causing an opening to appear.
"Oh throne of mine father, your owner's daughter now gives custody of this weapon unto thee." she stated softly, "Keep it safe 'till such time as I come to claim it once again."
With that, she threw the Divine Sword of Salvation into the darkness and resealed the hole with another tap of her weapon.
"Now that the weapon of the Supreme Steel hast been concealed, this one can now pursue the Godslayer who slew Poseidon." the petite goddess muttered.
Although she had broken free of the Domain of Immortality and her legends, Athena still carried quite the dislike of the sea god. He would have confronted her at some point had he not been slain and Athena loathed it when her prey was stolen from her.
Godō Kusanagi was one such prey. He was the most baffling Godslayer that the Wisdom Goddess had ever encountered, labouring beneath his false pacifism and pretending not to notice the affection held for him by almost every mortal female he encountered. He had defeated her once before, but had shown mercy towards her rather than kill her.
Athena was a goddess who repaid her debts, and she had repaid that debt when the young King had fought against Perseus. Now it was time to fight in earnest against the King of Japan and claim sweet victory over him…or at least, that had been the plan until she had felt the defeat of another god by a Godslayer wielding Poseidon's power.
"Fly, my silent heralds of the night." Athena commanded, "Fly and bring me the location of the Eighth Godslayer!"
On silent wings, a large flock of Little Owls took flight towards Southern France, where she had last felt the use of Poseidon's power.
"Thou shalt not escape my wrath, Godslayer." the Heretic Goddess whispered as she vanished from the mountaintop, "This I do swear, as the Goddess of Wisdom and War!"
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The Next Day
La Tour Jeanne d'Arc, la Rue Donjon, Rouen
Jean looked up at the tower and whistled. The Keep of Rouen Castle was very impressive and Jean had to wonder about how large the full castle had been before it had been demolished, curtain walls and all.
She picked up her mobile and dialled up Rebecca's number.
"It's me." she said as Rebecca picked up, "No sign of her. She's manifested already, but I can't get a lock on her location."
"Where have you tried?" Rebecca asked.
"I only just arrived at the tower." Jean replied, "I'll give the place a once over, but I doubt that she's here, or she'd have attacked me by now. I'll head to the church after this, then I'll check out the cathedral before I rendezvous with you back at the hotel."
"Got it. Why hasn't she attacked you yet though?" the witch sounded perplexed, "Heretic Gods, aside from trickster gods, rarely ever use any kind of machinations when they descend. Can't you locate her with your [Divine Sensing] ability?"
"I tried that earlier and got the mother of all headaches." the Campione replied sourly, "I think your idea about her being able to lock down so-called 'pagan' Authorities and abilities is right on the money. My Hime-Miko ability is being actively blocked. All I can see or feel is blinding white light when I try."
"I suppose it was too much to ask that she would put up a flag and tell up where she is." Rebecca sighed, "I'll keep an eye on the news and text you if I spot anything that looks out of the ordinary."
"Thanks. Any sign of the Brotherhood of the Night Sky?" Jean asked.
"No, which is worrying." Rebecca replied, "They should have at least called us last night to find out your intentions."
The Mage Association who controlled central and northern France was firmly under the heel of Alec, the Black Prince and ruling Campione of Great Britain, so it wasn't really a surprise to Jean that they were ignoring her. What did concern her was the fact that there had been signs that they were having her followed. It wasn't anything overt, but traces of magic were following her all over Rouen.
Jean didn't believe in coincidences.
"Just be careful about who you answer the door to." Jean ordered her subordinate, "Something about this stinks to high heavens and it isn't the river."
"Understood." Rebecca replied seriously.
After a few minutes more of talk, Jean hung up and hailed a taxi down.
"L'église Sainte-Jeanne-d'Arc, s'il vous plaît." she said to the driver as she settled into the back.
As the man drove, Jean ruminated as to exactly how she was going to fight Joan of Arc. She was locked out of her [Earthshaker] Authority, her [Lord of Horses] Authority isn't exactly useful in combat, [Stormbreaker] can only be used over the ocean and [Master of the Oceans] poses a problem because she could only manipulate saltwater.
'There again, the river Seine is connected to the sea, so I could drag her out there to use my powers to their fullest.' she considered. She wasn't certain if [Dead Man's Chest] only worked on the dead at sea or if it was any person who drowned in water. She'd have to experiment.
If it did work anywhere that people had drowned to death, it would be far more useful than if she had to restrict her use of it to coastal areas.
Getting out of the taxi near the church, Jean paid the driver and walked over to examine it. The building was a modern church, built in nineteen-seventy-nine. It was oddly designed in a way that Jean knew some religious people back home would insist wasn't proper for a church.
According to Rebecca, who was a font of information about Joan of Arc, the sweeping curves were supposed to represent the flames that consumed the Maid of Orléans at her execution, as well as an overturned longship, for some odd reason.
Jean's eyes were drawn to a large cross that marked the exact spot that the execution had taken place at. She bowed her head at it for a moment before heading inside the church.
The interior of the church was beautiful. Wood panelling, wide windows and of course the stained-glass windows from the Saint Vincent's church that had been destroyed in the 1940's. Jean was an Atheist, but even she had to admire the craftsmanship of the windows, if not the religious theme in which they were cast.
Kneeling before the altar was a woman with long blond hair tied into a plait. The woman wore a dark blue dress-like garment, as well as armour on her hips. Jean could see that she was currently praying, so decided to wait until she was finished.
A couple of minutes later, the woman finished praying and stood up. Turning around, she spotted Jean and scowled, which marred her face.
"Heretic Goddess Jeanne d'Arc." Jean greeted her respectfully.
"Godslayer." the Heretic Goddess replied disdainfully. Her blue eyes were narrowed at Jean in contempt. The armour that she wore was a corset, as well as a set of gauntlets and greaves, with armour over her throat to protect it from slashes. "Name thyself."
"Pardon my rudeness. I am Jean Campbell, Eighth Godslayer and I am here to slay you." the Scottish girl replied politely.
"I am surprised that thou did not attack me from behind, while I communed with the Lord." Jeanne sniffed.
"I may be an Atheist, but I have always respected the right of someone to worship as they please so long as it inconveniences no one else." Jean replied, "In addition, I am honourable; I wouldn't attack someone from behind before the fight truly began. Once it has started, however, all bets are off."
"Just so; there is no such thing as unfair practices on the battlefield." Jeanne nodded regally, "Amusing. A Godslayer who treats honourably with her foes. Well, you have found me. Do you intend to do battle with me here, in the house of the Lord?"
"I came here to challenge you openly and in all fairness, Joan of Arc." Jean replied, "My challenge is thus; we shall meet on the Mathilde Bridge an hour hence and from there leave Rouen so as not to harm any innocents in our clash. Upon reaching the sea, we shall fight until one of us is no more. Is that agreeable to you?"
Jeanne tilted her head regally in thought before nodding. "I find your terms honourable, Godslayer. I shall meet you at that bridge an hour hence. May the best warrior emerge victorious."
With that, the Maid of Orléans vanished in a flash of light. Jean breathed a sigh of relief. She had been close to attacking the Heretic Goddess when she locked eyes with her. The urge to kill her was more pronounced than it had been against Davy Jones, which Jean found puzzling.
Shaking her head, she looked at the altar.
"Umm…I'm not the religious type." she started, "But…you know…if You are listening…I don't want to kill her. It's my mother's orders. I am sorry, in advance, for what is natural between Campione and Heretic Gods. Goodbye."
Jean left the church, with the odd feeling that whoever Jeanne had been praying to had heard her.
One Hour Later
Mathilde Bridge, Rouen
"You are insane." Rebecca said over the phone flatly, "This isn't the medieval period, Jean! You do not just waltz up and challenge a Heretic God to a duel like Edmond Dantès in the Count of Monte Cristo!"
"You would prefer it that I start fighting in the middle of Rouen?" Jean demanded, "I am not Doni and will do my best to avoid destroying priceless cultural artefacts and buildings."
"Well obviously, but you do know that Heretic Gods are not know for their adherence to common sense or courtesy." the witch argued, "For all you know, she could be planning an ambush on you!"
"Heretic Goddess or no, Joan of Arc was honourable in life." Jean replied quietly, "I can only trust that her honour binds her still."
"…you realise that you are talking about trusting one of your mortal enemies?" Rebecca said wearily, sounding tired, "If you are determined, I will say no more on the subject, but if this turns pear-shaped, I'll say 'I told you so' with a smile."
"I'm quite sure you will." Jean drawled, "Now, it's almost time. Anything odd to report?"
"Other than the Brotherhood of the Night Sky being conspicuous by their absence, no." Rebecca replied with a sigh, "I really fail to understand this level of disrespect that they are showing. Because they have a Campione for a master, they should be showing you some degree of respect by greeting you. Even the Order showed you some degree of respect by sending their local Chapter's First Knight and an aide de camp to greet you. This lack of action on their part is…disturbing."
"I agree. Set as many magical wards and snares as you feel necessary around our room." Jean ordered, the bad feeling she had about the inaction of the Mage Association was now at Defcon 1.
"On it. I-" Rebecca started to say before her voice was drowned out by a burst of static.
"Rebecca?" Jean frowned as the line was cut off.
"Greetings, Godslayer." Jeanne d'Arc declared as she appeared nearby, "Art thou prepared for our battle?"
"Yes I am." Jean nodded as she stowed her phone away, "Are you?"
"Indeed!" the Maid of Orléans replied proudly, "Though I might wish that ye had chosen a different location to meet."
"This was the bridge where your ashes were scattered after you were burned at the stake." Jean acknowledged, "I could have picked another bridge, but I wasn't certain if any other bridge was familiar to you from back when you were…mortal."
"The memories I received from mine mortal incarnation are imperfect and oftentimes incomplete." the Heretic Goddess replied sourly, "Nevertheless, this bridge is inescapably a part of my memory for the reason thou hast stated. It was wise of thee to select this location."
Jean inclined her head, accepting the compliment. "Before we begin…can I ask why you broke free of your legend?"
"Because…" Jeanne paused for a moment, a puzzled expression on her face, "…I…do not know. Before I realised it, I was simply here, in Rouen, in the church. I cannot recall anything before that or after I was burned to death. I suppose that the why of the matter is moot; I am here and only my defeat shall alter that fact."
"I see." Jean nodded, "Well, I am puzzled by the fact you broke free of your legend. It has -you have- inspired women throughout the centuries to be more than what custom would allow us to be. Most countries that have a woman who has done something similar to what you did are referred to as that country's Joan of Arc. There is no one in Europe, perhaps the world, who doesn't know of your legend."
"Hmmm." the Heretic Goddess said with a raised eyebrow, "'Tis good to know my example hath done some good, even with the ignominious way my link to the mortal coil was severed. Shall we begin, Godslayer?"
"Yes." Jean nodded and reached out with her hand, "Oh golden trident, come forth and serve your master, in the name of the waves!"
In a flash, the [Tríaina] Authority appeared in her hand. Grasping it, Jean grinned at Jeanne.
"Follow me."
With that, she leapt down to the surface of the river and stood atop it, which was interesting due to the saltwater limitation of her Authority.
'Oh hell. Who cares why at this point.' the Scottish girl thought as she started to run over the water in the direction of the sea that was signing to her like a siren, followed by a Heretic Goddess pulling her own version of the walking on water trick somehow.
"How far out of Rouen are you planning on taking us, Godslayer?" the Goddess asked as they streaked down the river and towards the outer edge of the city.
"Far enough that nobody will be caught up in our fight." Jean replied.
As they continued down the river, Jean heard the siren call of the sea again. This was the first time she had used the Ocean Trident away from the ocean and it was surprising how much she wanted, needed, to go to the ocean, to the source of Poseidon's power.
Forcing herself to halt once they travelled a distance past the town of Caudebec-en-Caux, which in itself was about 27 miles away from Rouen.
"This will do." Jean said as she halted.
The Heretic Goddess looked around and nodded in agreement. "Indeed it will."
With a small flash, a sword appeared in Joan's right hand and a pole in the other, a white banner fluttering from it. A pennon, it was called as Jean recalled.
"That weapon you bear is from a pagan god, is it not?" Joan questioned, "You shall find that such trickery shall not be as effective against me, for the Lord stands with me."
"I'm an equal opportunity Campione." Jean quipped as she assumed a stance with her [Tríaina], "The origin or gender of the Heretic Gods I defeat is irrelevant. Both the ones I defeated before now have been male and were unable to believe that a girl could defeat them. I assume your enemies were much the same while you were mortal?"
This prompted a snort from her opponent. "Hah! All the time. May the best warrior triumph, Godslayer!"
She slammed the butt of her banner onto the water's surface and ghostly figures appeared in neat and orderly ranks around and behind her. Bowmen, Men-at-Arms, Knights, all wearing the complex Fleur-de-lys symbol that was emblazoned on the banner of the Maid of Orléans.
"Vive la Pucelle d'Orléans!" the army of spirits yelled.
"You summoned your freaking army?!" Jean exclaimed as she noticed the spirits move to encircle her.
"In life, they fought and died for the sake of France." Joan stated, "Now, in death, they serve me and my cause. Strike down the Godslayer!"
As the spirits charged at her, Jean started muttering a chant.
"To the citizens of Athens, I bestow a blessing of the water of the sea that shall run unendingly. Bring my realm to me so I may flourish!"
Upon uttering this chant, she thrust her trident into the air and opened a hole from which a spout of water roared out. Jean quickly manipulated the water into a ring around her, constantly fed by the hole.
"Knock 'em down!" Jean roared, making the ring rapidly expand in size and radius so the ghostly figures were sent flying by the impact. The wave of water was blocked by a wave of light emanating from Joan's standard.
"I call upon The Archangel Michael, so I am not led astray, I call upon Saint Catherine of the Wheel to grant me wisdom and I call upon Saint Margaret to grant me the determination to do what is right!" the Heretic Goddess prayed.
Jean stiffened as she felt her power weaken, the flow of saltwater throttled by at least half. Her trident was also dimming, the golden radiance flickering and fading.
'Shit. An Authority that can disempower non-Christian Authorities.' Jean thought quickly, 'Just as Rebecca predicted. I hate it when paranoia pays off.'
She ramped up the power she was sending her own Authorities and got them back up to acceptable strength before charging at Joan of Arc and striking the shield with her [Tríaina] as hard as she could, while her water kept the soldiers back.
"My faith is a shield against thine attacks, Godslayer!" the deity shouted and once more slammed the butt of her banner pole onto the surface of the water, making the shield flare out and send Jean flying across the surface of the river, skipping like a stone before slamming into the ground on the other bank.
"Ow." Jean said as she got up, "Campione reinforced body for the win."
"Thou art resilient!" Joan grinned, "Advance!"
Once again, the army of spirits moved in on the Scottish Campione.
"Damn this to hell and back." Jean cursed. She widened the hole that was pouring saltwater out and unleashed a deluge that not only swept away the soldiers, but also surrounded Joan of Arc in a large sphere of water.
The sphere contracted in an attempt to crush the one contained within it, but the water was repulsed by the shining shield once again. Joan smirked smugly at Jean before the shield that protected her flickered, dimmed and then faded away completely.
"What?!" the Heretic Goddess exclaimed in disbelief.
"I find your 'shield of faith' somewhat…lacking." Jean snarked at her, totally butchering Darth Vader's classic line as she did so, "Come out and play, Joan."
"Very well. Have at thee!"
The goddess charged at Jean and lashed out a horizontal slash with her banner, slamming it into the trident that Jean spun around to block it. The blow was so strong that Jean felt her bones creak, but she was able to withstand it. The next attack came from the sword wielded in the goddess' other hand, one which Jean was barely able to dodge.
She had thought it impossible to wield a polearm weapon in one hand and a regular sword in the other. At least, impossible to wield them effectively. Joan was proving her wrong yet again as she drove Jean back with perfectly executed swipes, slashes and stabs from both her sword and her banner.
'Two can play at that game!' she thought. Aloud, she chanted, "Faithful blade of steel and sea! Come, appear before me!"
Joan's eyes widened as a steel cutlass appeared in Jean's hand, allowing her to block Joan's own sword even as the Campione's trident fended off her banner pole.
"You use two Authorities simultaneously?!" the Heretic Goddess demanded.
"It's…tiring, but possible." Jean replied with a grin, "Besides of which, the cutlass is a demi-Authority, one that is a part of a greater Authority, yet separate enough at the same time to be summoned for a purpose other than what it was intended."
The fight continued with renewed vigour after that, Jean's clumsy attempts at echoing Joan's fighting style proving somewhat effective. Evidently, none had ever faced Joan of Arc with a similar fighting style before.
The pace of thrust, parry, riposte, block and swipe was a heady one. Jean could feel herself more alive in the midst of this battle than she had ever felt before and a smile made its way onto her face unintentionally.
"Thou art enjoying yourself." Joan remarked as she tried to disembowel her.
"Apparently." Jean replied as she blocked the sword strike and lashed out with a kick that sent the Maid of Orléans stumbling back before trying to stab her in the chest.
"As always, Campione revel in the heat of battle." the goddess mused as she blocked the attack, "So it has been, so it will always be."
"I'm not nearly as bad as a couple of my fellow Campione!" Jean locked blades with her and pushed back, cutlass against sword and trident against banner pole.
"Indeed, I shall take thine word for it!" Joan grunted as she pushed back in turn, "Now desist with thine resistance and die by my hand!"
"Sorry, got too much to do." Jean rasped back, "Got no time for dying. How about you?"
"I as well." the goddess admitted, "Perhaps it is time I became serious in this matter."
Disengaging, Joan of Arc raised her banner high and summoned her army forth again.
"Banner of mine, light eternal, as is the love of the Lord." she chanted, "Shine forth and grant my army your protection!"
The silky-looking banner, glowing faintly until now, blazed forth bright white light as if it were a miniature sun. As the light touched her army, they changed from grey, vaguely corporeal ghosts to what looked like holograms of what they actually looked like in life, solid and with no fuzzy edges or indistinct areas.
"OK…this is impressive." Jean said as she looked around, "Well…let's try something here…."
Reaching into her knowledge on how to activate one of her new Authorities, she winced as she found it. An unpleasant activation requirement for an unpleasant Authority. Figures.
Dismissing her Ocean Trident, the Scottish Campione drew the edge of the cutlass across the back of her left arm after swapping the blade to her right.
"Hearken unto me, ye swabs. Fallen denizens of the deeps, ye who lie fallow in my domain. Come forth by my command and serve your master!" she recited before plunging her blade into the surface of the river Seine. A green, eldritch glow started to emanate from the cutlass before it spread across the river's surface, heading both upstream and downstream. Suddenly, a hand emerged from the eerie water, swiftly followed by the rest of the arm, the head and body of a cadaver. Pale, with rotting clothes and half-eaten flesh, it turned to face Jean and clumsily knelt before her.
Other drowned dead emerged, some dressed in casual modern clothes, while others looked like they belonged back during the French Revolution or earlier. A few WW2 German Wehrmacht, British, American, French and SS uniforms really stood out in the crowd. Jean wondered absently if they could still use the rifles and Schmeissers they had slung over their shoulders.
'Holy…I remember now! On that TV show a while back, it said that the Seine was a popular place for people to either commit suicide in or dump bodies in.' Jean thought as her own army grew steadily to first match, then surpass Joan's own numbers, 'And I'm summoning all of them from as far back as Rouen and all the way up to the mouth of the river into the sea itself!'
"I see you are not without tricks of your own." Joan observed icily, "Let us see if they can withstand the Lord's wrath!"
A blast of light erupted from her banner and struck the army of zombies (there really wasn't any other way to describe them, Jean mused ruefully) and…
…One zombie crumbled to dust.
"…what?" Joan's jaw dropped in disbelief.
"The Authority I used to summon them is based, at least in part, in Christianity." Jean smirked, "Your disempowerment trick isn't going to work this time. Now my minions…attack!"
With a weary and eerie groaning chorus, the zombies lurched forwards, aimed straight at the army surrounding the Heretic Goddess, who scowled.
"Counter-charge!" she ordered her own army, who did as they were ordered.
On the face of it, Jean's army, even although it had a numerical advantage, didn't stand a chance against Joan's army. The heretic Goddess' army was a battle-hardened force from the Hundred Years War, lead by the deification of the most well known figure from that war, protected by her divine Authority.
The zombies, by contrast, were mostly just dead non-combatants dressed in the clothes in which they had died. Jean was surprised to notice the soldiers with projectile weapons were firing, albeit somewhat spasmodically, in the general direction of the opposing force, eliminating more than a few of the archers.
When the Men-at-Arms and Knights clashed with the zombies in close combat, it looked like an overwhelming rout. The zombies were hacked and slashed to pieces by the enemy…except the defeated zombies just re-emerged from the river at the back of the horde.
Frowning, Jean felt the ones who had re-emerged. They felt weaker than the rest, as if they were less corporeal, less solidly tethered in the realm of the living than the ones who hadn't yet been killed.
The old French troops didn't have it entirely their own way, however. The zombies were inhumanly strong and ripped the fully armoured Knights to pieces, never mind the lighter armoured Men-at-Arms. Best of all, when they were destroyed, they didn't reappear.
Slowly, the seemingly unending numbers of the zombie horde summoned by [Dead Man's Chest] forced the army of the Maid of Orléans back and overwhelmed them with wave upon wave of undead. Eventually, the last Knight fell and Joan of Arc stood alone, surrounded by the living dead.
"I shall not fall!" the Heretic Goddess declared and took a stance, then looked confused when Jean raised a hand.
"Ye swabs of the drowned dead, return to your sleep until I call ye forth once again!" The redhead chanted.
The zombies retreated to the river obediently and suck back into the river until there was no trace that they had even existed. Even the cutlass in Jean's hand vanished.
"What trickery are you pulling, Godslayer?" Joan asked suspiciously, not shifting from her ready stance.
"Finishing our battle with honour." Jean replied serenely, "Weapon of mine, golden and invincible. Come forth so that we may do battle with our foes!"
The full power of the [Tríaina] Authority was summoned forth, appearing in its master's hand in a blade of golden radiance that outshone the light of the banner.
Assuming a stance with her weapon, Jean Campbell grinned at her enemy. "It's time for the final stage of this battle. Are you prepared, Jeanne d'Arc?"
The breakaway deification of the Catholic Saint, Jeanne d'Arc grinned back as well. "I am. Let the final stage of our battle begin!"
The clash from the trident and banner sent shockwaves resounding across the landscape.
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Same Time
Rebecca and Jean's suite, Hotel de la Cathedrale, Rouen
Rebecca looked up as the windows rattled. The wind was fairly tranquil in Rouen at the moment, so the most likely cause was…
"…Jean and Joan have finally gotten serious." she concluded aloud.
Turning back to the notes she was making regarding what would have to be done to ensure Jean could live like a King of her rank deserved to. She had already ordered the Paladin of the Order of Crossed Swords to have his boat sent up to Oban or else.
He hadn't been happy, but he'd agreed.
'The next thing to consider is her living arrangements.' Rebecca thought as she wrote, 'Oban isn't exactly bursting with large-scale properties. Hell, they barely have enough room to swing a cat. I'll ask her if she knows of any new property builds in the area. She is local, after all.'
She stiffened as her wards starting at the elevator were compromised by several powerful magical counter spells. Absolutely no finesse whatsoever, just bulldozing over her wards, overwhelming them with pure power.
Jerking to her feet, she grabbed her wand and pointed it at the door.
"Hestia, Goddess of Hearth and Home, bless this dwelling so that those travellers who live here, even so short as a day, are filled with your blessing!" she chanted.
A warm light filled the room and Rebecca felt her magical reserves increase to about half of what they are in her Hearth.
"Eris, Goddess of Discord, sow your deceptions among those who stalk me." she cast, "Hecate and Circe, Goddesses of Magic, bless my spells with your might, so none may supplant them."
As she cast each spell, she felt increasingly worried. The only magical organisation who could be behind this is the Brotherhood of the Night Sky. The only reason they could be coming for her right now, while Jean was in the middle of fighting a Heretic God, was to capture her and use her as a bargaining tool to deal with Jean when she defeated Joan of Arc and was weakened.
Absently, she activated all the traps in the corridor, of which there were quite a few. Non-lethal of course, but still effective. She wouldn't have thought that all those pranks at school could have come in handy in such a situation as this. Go figure.
The room's phone started to ring at roughly the same time that the group of magical people breaching her wards stopped moving. Rebecca grabbed the phone off the cradle with her free hand and held it up to her ear.
"Yes?" she asked cautiously.
"Miss Rebecca Piper, I presume?" a female voice asked.
"Speaking. Who is this?"
"I am Michelle Blanchefleur, Paladin of the Brotherhood of the Night Sky." the woman introduced herself, "I am calling to ask you to surrender yourself into our custody."
"I am the attendant of the Eighth Campione; you would risk the destruction of your association for…what, exactly?" Rebecca replied frostily.
"Lord Alec has jurisdiction in northern France." Michelle replied stiffly, "Your mistress must be taught not to poach other people's territory."
The English Witch ground her teeth together audibly at the woman's stupidity. "Paladin, this is quite possibly the worst way you could have conceived of trying to 'rein her in.' My King is proud and does not forgive trespasses against herself or those who serve her. She was highly tempted to punish the Paladin of the Order of Crossed Swords far more harshly than she did because of his attitude."
A lie, but how was she to know that?
"Even a Campione will be tired after facing la Pucelle, Miss Piper." Michelle informed her rather smugly, "She will also have depleted several of her Authorities in the course of battle. Combine that with having you as a hostage to her good behaviour and well have her exactly where we want her."
"If you actually think that I am disloyal enough or stupid enough to roll over and let you hold me prisoner, you've been eating too many escargot!" Rebecca sneered down the phone, "My loyalty is with Her Majesty King Jean Campbell and I will not go down without a fight! After I eventually get taken prisoner, I look forward to my King walking all over you like the cockroaches that you are!"
Slamming the phone down, she prepared herself to fight.
"Hurry up, Jean." she whispered, "I won't be able to hold them off for long."
Just then someone kicked down her door.
Back with Jean…
The battle was drawing to a close.
Both combatants were seriously wounded and were down to the last of their reserves. Jean's outfit was torn and ripped in countless locations, dried blood from already healed wounds caking the ground and staining the water red.
Joan wasn't any better off, with large tears and gashes in her armour and her sword had been discarded long ago, broken and useless. As a goddess, she could usually regenerate wounds easily, but Jean's trident had been able to easily puncture her armour and injure her, leaving deep wounds that dripped blood.
"Hah…hah…methinks that it is time to end this battle!" Joan hissed as she raised her flag once again.
"Agreed!" Jean replied, raising her trident again.
'Zounds…I cannot believe I will be forced to use this form…' Joan mused as she drew herself up. She had never wanted to use this form, sealing it away, but circumstances demanded nothing more than everything she had, otherwise she would be defeated.
"Flames of sin, rise up!" Joan hisses, "Fire that consumed me, appear! Let my hatred roar!"
Suddenly, the Maid of Orléans was wreathed in black flames that temporarily shrouded her from sight. When they cleared, the fire still burned around her like an aura.
Joan of Arc's clothes had turned black, as had her proud white banner.
"These flames, tainted with the hatred I felt as I died, are the same ones that killed me." Joan stated, "Tainting my banner, let the flames consume you! La Grondement Du Haine!"
The flames roiled and shifted into a ball in front of the hate-tainted Saint before being launched at Jean with a roar of pain and hatred from Joan of Arc.
Jean started running around, dodging and weaving to avoid the ball of black flames, but it seemed to have a mind of its own, constantly tracking after her unrelentingly.
'I do not want to even touch that stuff. No telling what it'll do to me.' Jean thought in a surprisingly calm way considering the circumstances. An idea struck her and she changed course, heading straight towards the creator of the fire.
"So you seek to slay me before my flames consume you? A wise choice." Joan shouted, "Yet also foolish! La Grondement Du Haine!"
Another black fireball was being gathered in front of the Saint. Jean had to act now.
"Herds of my children cover the world, children of the hoof and mane. In the name of Poseidon Hippios, I command them to lend me the strength of their charge, the stampede of a million together as one." Jean chanted as she ran, the trident in her hands glowing brilliantly as she did so.
"Vanish! Return to dust!" Joan roared as the second fireball was launched at her enemy.
Slamming the butt of her weapon onto the ground, Jean pole-vaulted over the second attack, which crashed into the first, causing both to explode and propel Jean forward much faster.
"What?!" Joan yelled in disbelief.
"Agélis Tríaina!" the Campione shouted, thrusting her weapon forwards, straight at Joan's torso. The Heretic Goddess tried to interpose the banner between herself and the trident, but Jean's speed was too much for her to keep up with.
Jean landed on the other side of Joan of Arc, a great chunk of her armoured torso impaled on the end of the prongs of the weapon.
Joan vomited up blood as she sank to her knees and let the banner fall from her nerveless hands to clatter on the ground. Jean walked around to face the Heretic Goddess' last moments.
"It…seems to be…my loss." Joan of Arc croaked out.
"Looks like it." Jean agreed quietly, "I do wish it could have been avoided, but…"
She trailed off with a helpless shrug.
"But Campione and Heretic Gods are natural enemies." Joan finished for her, "None know this better than I. This victory is yours, Jean Campbell. Take pride in defeating me, until I next return to this world. Then we shall fight again."
With that, Jeanne d'Arc, the Maid of Orléans, was consumed by her own fire, until only the banner was left. It floated into the air, but lost the darkness of hatred. It was now pure white once again, cleansed of the flames of despair and hatred that had once tainted it.
"[Luminosité Eternelle, la Bannière de la Pucelle d'Orléans]" Jean said softly. The banner glowed softly before shrinking into a ball of light and entering her body.
Jean flopped onto her back, dismissing her weapon as she waited for all of her wounds to heal. That had been the hardest fight she had ever been in as a Campione. Davy Jones had been a Sea God who had only minimal control over the sea itself, so she had had an advantage, however slight, over him.
Not so much against Saint Joan. The Goddess of [Steel] had pushed her hard and it was only because she had reviewed what she could use the [Assimilation Trident] form for that she had pulled out a victory here.
'I need to stop overestimating myself when I fight.' she told herself sternly, 'On the ocean, I am the ruler. On land, not so much.'
Keeping her head straight was a hard job when you had the Divine Authorities of two Sea Gods and now a Catholic Saint roaming around inside of her. She did manage…somehow.
She was ripped from her musing by her phone ringing. Surprised that it was still working, it took her a second to fish it out of her pocket and answer.
"Rebecca?" she asked when she finally answered it.
"I'm afraid mademoiselle Piper is currently…indisposed." a confident male voice said, making her freeze.
"Identify yourself." Jean hiss as she sat up.
"I am Léonce Nicole, First Knight of the Rouen Chapter of the Brotherhood of the Night Sky." the man identified himself smugly, "Greetings, Jean Campbell, Eighth Devil King."
"What have you done to Rebecca?!" the Scottish girl snapped.
"She is our…guest." Léonce said silkily, hidden menace in his voice, "So long as you accede to our reasonable requests, there is no need for any…unpleasantness to occur, 'Your Majesty.'"
Jean's temper, usually under tight control, snapped at this.
"Monsieur Nicole…you have just put yourself at the very top of my very small shitlist." she said with cold anger, "I hope you have an up-to-date will ready…because your executor will need to be informed of your death by the time I get through with you."
She crushed her phone in her hand and threw it away before turning her eyes in the direction that Rouen lay in.
"Nobody tries to bind me!" she hissed angrily before starting back to the city.
She had some mages to educate.
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Next Chapter: The Wrath of the Raging Tides
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