The night was thick with the stench of ash and blood. The mortal realm, once vibrant with life and prosperity, now lay in ruins. Demons had poured forth from the underworld, their claws rending cities, their screams echoing across the land. Humanity was on the brink of collapse.
In the heart of a desolate village stood an old, abandoned church, its once-majestic spires now crumbled and covered in ivy. Within its crumbling walls, a small group of survivors huddled together in desperate prayer. Candlelight flickered on the faces of men, women, and children, their lips trembling as they whispered pleas to a God who seemed silent in the face of such horror.
Barricades of pews and broken furniture blocked the doors, but the survivors knew it was only a matter of time before the demons outside would break through. As the church walls quaked under the assault of monstrous claws, a child clung to his mother, tears streaming down his face.
"God, save us," a man murmured, gripping a rosary so tightly it cut into his palms. "Please… send us deliverance."
Suddenly, the barricade exploded inward, a cacophony of splinters and shattered wood filling the air. Bloodthirsty demons, their eyes glowing red and their bodies twisted into grotesque shapes, surged into the church.
Screams erupted as the survivors fled to the chapel's sanctuary, their backs pressed against the altar.
The demons snarled and advanced, their claws glinting in the dim light. A small boy, no older than six, stumbled and fell, his terrified cries piercing the air as a massive demon loomed over him.
"Please!" the boy cried out, his hands reaching toward the heavens. "Help us!"
A flash of blinding light filled the church, so brilliant it caused even the demons to halt and recoil. The survivors shielded their eyes as a powerful radiance engulfed the room. When the light faded, two figures stood between the humans and the demonic horde.
One was a woman clad in shining armor, her long blonde hair cascading down her back. In her hand, she held a flag pole glowing with holy light. Her blue eyes radiated compassion and unyielding resolve. Jeanne d'Arc, the saint of Orleans, had been summoned to the mortal realm.
Beside her stood a man in a dark crimson cloak, his sharp gaze surveying the scene with an air of casual confidence. In his hands was a bow, crackling with a fiery energy that seemed to resonate with the air around him. Archer, enigmatic and powerful, stood at Jeanne's side.
The demons hissed and shrank back, their forms twisting under the holy radiance emanating from Jeanne. The crimson aura surrounding Archer seemed to burn them, forcing them to keep their distance.
"God has answered us," the man with the rosary whispered, falling to his knees. "He sent saints to save us."
Archer turned his head slightly, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips. "Saint? Me? Hardly." His eyes flicked to Jeanne. "Though the one next to me certainly qualifies."
Jeanne shot him a glance, her expression serene but focused. "Please do not refer to me as such," she said, her voice ringing with authority. She turned to the terrified group, offering them a reassuring smile. "Do not fear. You are under God's protection now. Stay together, and we will ensure your safety."
The boy who had cried for help looked up at her, his tear-streaked face lighting up with hope. Jeanne placed a gentle hand on his head before raising her flag high.
"Now," she said, her gaze fixed on the demons. "We fight."
With a battle cry that echoed through the church, Jeanne charged forward, her holy flag blazing like a second sun. Archer followed with a wry grin, losing arrows that exploded in bursts of fire and light, cutting through the demonic ranks.
The demons, which had once seemed so invincible, faltered under the combined assault. Jeanne's light burned them with divine wrath, while Archer's precise attacks struck down even the strongest of their kind.
The survivors watched in awe as the two fought with unrelenting strength and grace, their movements perfectly synchronized despite their stark differences in demeanor. Jeanne, ever the beacon of hope, pressed forward, her every strike a testament to her unyielding faith. Archer, cool and calculating, covered her back, his arrows never missing their mark.
Within minutes, the demonic horde lay in ruins, their bodies disintegrating into ash. Silence fell over the church as Jeanne and Archer stood amidst the remains, their weapons lowered but their expressions vigilant.
Jeanne turned to the group, her radiant smile returning. "You are safe now. Trust in God, and He will guide you through these dark times."
Archer rolled his shoulders, his bow vanishing in a shimmer of light. "Not bad," he remarked, glancing at Jeanne. "You're as impressive as the legends say."
"And you fight with the skill of a warrior with great experience," Jeanne replied, her tone warm yet curious.
Their brief exchange was interrupted by the sound of sobs. The boy who had cried out earlier ran forward and clung to Jeanne's leg. "Thank you," he said, his small voice trembling with gratitude. "Thank you for saving us."
Jeanne knelt, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It is not me you should thank, but the Lord above. He hears all prayers, even in the darkest of times."
Archer, standing a few steps away, crossed his arms and smirked. "Well, that and a well-timed summoning. Let's not give all the credit upstairs."
Jeanne gave him a mildly reproachful look but said nothing, choosing instead to focus on the relieved faces of the survivors. Together, the two Servants stood as the church filled with a renewed sense of hope, their presence a reminder that even in the face of overwhelming darkness, light would always find a way to prevail.
As the last remnants of ash drifted to the ground, silence settled over the ruined church. Jeanne D'Arc turned back to the group, her expression softening as she addressed the shaken survivors. "This place is no longer safe. The demons may return, and next time they may come in greater numbers. We must move."
The group exchanged nervous glances. One man, his face lined with exhaustion and fear, spoke up. "There's… there's a safe haven north of here. A monastery is hidden deep in the woods. It's said to be fortified against the demons."
Jeanne smiled, her serene presence soothing the tension. "Then we will guide you there. God's protection is with us, and you have nothing to fear."
Archer, who stood to the side with his arms crossed, let out a low whistle. "North through the woods, huh? Sounds charming. But let's not kid ourselves—those demons aren't going to let us stroll out of here unopposed."
Jeanne glanced at him, her calm confidence unwavering. "That is why we are here."
He shrugged. "Fair enough." His sharp eyes scanned the group before resting on the man who had mentioned the monastery. "But before we start the escort mission, I need to know more about what's happening. How did things get this bad? Demons don't appear in the mortal realm for a casual visit."
The survivors hesitated, their gazes shifting uncomfortably. Finally, the man who had spoken earlier stepped forward. "We don't know exactly how it started," he admitted. "But a few months ago, strange things began happening. Entire villages were wiped out overnight. Survivors spoke of monsters—demons—tearing through their homes. At first, we thought it was isolated, but then the attacks grew more frequent. Nowhere is safe anymore."
Another survivor, a woman clutching a small child, added, "They say a rift to the underworld has opened somewhere in the south. It's where the demons are coming from."
Archer's expression darkened as he processed the information. So that's why Alaya sent me here, he thought, his mind piecing together the situation. The Will of Humanity didn't act unless the threat was grave enough to jeopardize the entire existence of mankind. A rift to the underworld certainly qualified.
Jeanne's voice broke through his thoughts. "Then we must ensure these people reach safety before confronting the source of this evil. It is our duty."
Archer looked at her, his crimson cloak shifting as he walked to the group. "Sure, but let's not sugarcoat this. The demons aren't going to sit back and let us waltz to safety. If there's a rift, it's a possibility that this was planned or organized."
The group paled at his words, but Jeanne stepped forward, her radiant presence silencing their fears. "No matter what lies ahead, we will face it together. Trust in God and each other."
Archer rolled his eyes slightly but didn't argue. Instead, he glanced at the group. "Fine. Let's get moving before more uninvited guests show up. Stay close, stay quiet, and try not to panic if we run into trouble."
The survivors nodded, their expressions a mixture of fear and hope as they prepared to leave the church. Archer hung back for a moment, his gaze drifting to the horizon. His mind churned with questions. If there's a rift, why hasn't Alaya sent more help? And why her? He glanced at Jeanne, who was busy helping the survivors organize. The saint is impressive, no doubt, but this feels like overkill—or maybe it's just enough.
As they began their trek north, Archer fell in step beside the man who had first mentioned the haven. "Tell me everything you know about the demons," he said, tone low and serious. "How many are we talking about? Have you seen anything unusual about them—aside from the obvious?"
The man hesitated, then spoke in a hushed voice. "There's a lot of them. They travel in packs, but sometimes we've seen larger groups, like armies. And some of them… some aren't just beasts. They look almost human, but they're stronger, and smarter. They lead the others."
Archer's eyes narrowed. Demonic generals. Perfect. He glanced at Jeanne, who was walking ahead with her standard glowing faintly in the dim light. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us," he muttered under his breath.
As the group pressed forward into the night, the tension in the air grew thicker. The survivors clung to their faint hope, while Archer and Jeanne remained vigilant. The demons might have the upper hand now, but Archer knew one thing for certain: humanity wasn't going down without a fight.
Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you for reading this story. I appreciate it a lot. This was something I thought would be fun to make. Not sure if I want to leave it as a one shot or continue on with it. Well, I'll leave it to the reviews to decide if you all want me to expand on this. Anyway, thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed!