Dimensional Descent

[You guys are gonna kill me. Bonus chapter for 400 powerstones. From next reset onward, it'll be 200 powerstones per bonus chapter so that I don't collapse *runs away in tears*]

The English were roaring with fighting spirit. The truth of the matter was that they had suffered successive losses over the last few months. It was to the point where they might be kicked out of France entirely at this rate. However, their morale was still raging.

The reason for this was simple. They refused to lose to such an enemy and they were the true elites of the English army.

They had been hearing stories about Joan for almost a year now. The idea that a woman was the one putting their armies in such a sorry state was a great humiliation to them. It was simply going against the will of God.

Of course, the English had no idea that the real reason their morale was so high wasn't due to their own will at all.

On the castle walls, two men stood side by side. They wore silver armor and the English flag was painted on their shoulder guards. Both swept indifferent gazes at the roaring men on the tall walls and cold sneers toward the approaching French army in the distance led by a woman with flowing black hair and her knights.

"How is it, Reimond? Is she as much of a beauty as you thought she'd be?"

One of the previously expressionless men grinned, sizing up Joan. If others saw how he was acting, they would definitely be shocked. After all, he spoke about Joan as though she was right in front of him and he could see her every detail. However, she was easily over a kilometer away. If it wasn't for the size of the approaching army and their high vantage point, it would be difficult to make out even her gender, let alone how beautiful she was.

"You like used goods that much?"

"How do you know she's used goods?!" The man rebutted.

"The Bishop is our savior, but he isn't a Saint. If he really let her go, he might as well castrate himself."

The man paused and seemed to think that this made sense.

out to be

say anything in response. It was only after Joan had crossed the kilometer mark

wrong with the path

man, or rather, Nigelle, frowned at these words. The true reason he didn't like arguing with Reimond wasn't because he was no fun, but rather due to his ability. It was an ability that made it

Reimond continued.

and he was once more

from his back as slammed its lion shaped edge to the stone

in his left

French army was still

hundred meters. Seven

horses made it seem like the

line! Ready the cannons! Shieldmen forward!" Joan's cries resounded

followed hers as the French crossed the 500 meter

skies like hand enveloped the lands followed by the sound of the winds being torn apart

slow. They reacted to Joan's commands, bringing the

"Towers!" Joan roared.

towers came forward, hiding the violent power of their cannons behind their windows as they

French crossed the 300 meter mark. Under Joan's commands, they flowed like the water of a rushing river. Nothing was rushed and everything was organized. If a war historian of Leonel's time were to witness such a scene, they

faint golden glow of the large French flag in Joan's hands to understand that this was no longer just a battle of mortal

"FIre!"

roared once more and a second volley

men died horrible deaths. Though the shieldmen did their jobs as well as they could, how could it be possible for

part was that if one ignored the cries of pain and closed one's eyes, the sound of arrows piercing skin was little