At the same time, elsewhere.
La Charité had once been a peaceful city.
The pleasant climate and constant winds made the region a remarkably tranquil place, where the population lived primarily from cattle farming and the grain trade brought from Orléans.
Now, however, the city was being consumed by flames.
Fire spread from house to house, advancing uncontrollably through the streets. The surrounding grasslands had also been reached by the blaze, further expanding the devastated area. Wyverns crossed the skies while undead wandered through the ruined streets. The ground cracked under the intense heat, and entire buildings collapsed amid the chaos.
The city looked as though it had been cast directly into the end of the world.
Even so, something even stranger was taking place.
The people were not overcome by panic.
Despite the destruction, the inhabitants of La Charité were leaving the city in an orderly fashion. There was no uncontrolled stampede, no crowds trampling one another. Men, women, and children moved toward the exits with a calmness completely at odds with the disaster surrounding them.
The reason could be heard everywhere.
It was a gentle, harmonious, and beautiful melody.
The music spread through the burning streets, pierced the smoke, and reached those who fled. It did not erase fear or make the tragedy disappear, but it helped people move forward without surrendering to despair.
The source of that melody stood at the highest point of the city's fortress.
There, a man dressed in extravagant clothing played calmly.
His flashy hat and the vibrant colors of his garments made him seem completely out of place amid such destruction. Yet as his fingers guided the melody, any sense of incongruity faded away.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart stood atop the partially destroyed structure, watching the evacuation while he played.
Sitting on the edge of a nearby wall was a young woman of extraordinary beauty.
Her long silver hair was tied into two elegant braids, and her sky-blue eyes carefully followed the townspeople as they left the city.
She was Marie Antoinette, the Flower of Versailles.
Only when she saw the last group of civilians reach a safe distance did she finally seem to relax.
Then she turned toward Mozart, a smile lighting up her face.
"Your music is still wonderful," she praised.
"Naturally," Mozart replied without interrupting the performance.
"What a conceited answer."
"It would be strange if I answered any other way."
Marie let out a brief laugh.
"I'm happy to see you're still exactly the same," she said with a smile.
"And I would be deeply offended if you failed to recognize my genius after listening so attentively."
"Oh? Then perhaps I should praise you more."
"Naturally."
The answer came without the slightest hesitation.
Marie simply shook her head, amused.
Shortly afterward, she rose from the edge of the wall.
"This conversation will have to continue another time."
Mozart finally stopped playing.
The evacuation had ended, and there were no ordinary people left in La Charité.
A few seconds later, five figures appeared before them.
Marie and Mozart immediately turned their attention toward the newcomers.
At the front stood a woman with pale skin, light blonde hair, and golden eyes.
Her black armor, dark cloak, and ominous banner created a threatening presence even without her saying a single word.
Behind her stood four Servants.
All of them were under the influence of the Madness Enhancement Jeanne had infused into them during their summoning.
Marie's gaze swept over the four Servants for a moment.
Then her eyes settled upon the woman leading the group.
She remained silent for several moments, studying her carefully.
Gradually, her brow furrowed—not out of hostility, but obvious dissatisfaction.
"You are not elegant. Neither is your fighting style. I don't like your philosophy or your principles either. You are so beautiful, yet you surround yourself with blood and hatred. For better or worse, shouldn't a human being try to be freer?"
The observation caused Jeanne Alter to raise an eyebrow.
That was definitely not the reaction she had expected.
"...A Servant?" Jeanne asked in surprise.
"Yes, that's right. I'm so happy. Is this what it means to declare oneself a champion of justice? I know who you are, and I also know how powerful and terrifying you are," Marie said while lightly shaking her head.
Her tone contained neither mockery nor challenge.
On the contrary.
It was a sincere admission.
She knew Jeanne's reputation and fully understood the kind of person standing before her.
"To be honest, I must confess that I've never trembled in fear before anyone as much as I do before you. Even so... if you intend to invade this nation, then I will oppose you, even if I have to tear my dress apart. Why? Because..."
She continued her reasoning in a somewhat confused manner.
As she spoke, she seemed to be trying to organize her own thoughts. The words came out before her line of reasoning had fully formed, as though she were reaching a conclusion at the same time she was explaining it.
Even so, despite the confusion of her explanation, one thing was clear.
She was genuinely frightened.
And she still had no intention whatsoever of backing down.
Before Jeanne could say anything, she heard a murmur coming from the Saber standing beside her.
The voice was so low that it nearly vanished amid the distant crackling of the flames consuming the city.
"You are..." Saber murmured.
The woman's reaction was immediate.
Marie Antoinette's eyes widened slightly in surprise before a sincere and elegant smile appeared on her lips.
"Oh my. So you know my true name. Have we met before, splendid knight?" Marie asked in surprise.
Jeanne's gaze shifted between the two.
Since the beginning of the encounter, Saber's behavior had been strange. The recognition in his voice left no room for doubt.
"Saber. Who is she?" Jeanne asked.
"..."
Jeanne's eyes narrowed when he remained silent.
"Answer me," Jeanne ordered, a glimmer of coldness passing through her eyes.
Saber remained silent for several seconds.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
"I know who she is, even with this murderous fury burning in my heart. Her beauty is unmistakable. The girl they called the Flower of Versailles. She is... Marie Antoinette."
The words echoed across the area.
Marie blinked several times before placing one hand over her chest.
"That's right! Thank you for speaking my name! And as long as that name exists, I shall fulfill my role, no matter how foolish it may be. You! Dragon Witch who is setting my country ablaze. It may be pointless, but I will ask anyway. Are you truly wicked enough to commit your evil deeds in my presence? Do you declare yourself more foolish than I, the queen who failed to stop the Revolution?" Marie responded energetically.
Her voice contained neither fear nor hesitation.
Even before the woman responsible for the destruction ravaging France, Marie Antoinette remained as radiant as a queen ought to be.
Jeanne immediately frowned.
"Silence! You have no right to say anything."
"Oh? And why would that be?" Marie asked curiously.
Her tone was so genuinely interested that it almost sounded like someone asking a casual question during an ordinary conversation.
That only irritated Jeanne further.
"You lived a life of luxury in a palace and died without even understanding what happened," Jeanne replied as a smile of pure scorn appeared on her face.
The contempt in her voice was unmistakable.
"Do you really think you can understand our hatred?" Jeanne mocked.
"Hmm... I don't think I can. But that only makes me more curious, Dragon Witch," Marie replied, placing a finger against her chin.
The answer caused Jeanne to blink.
For a moment, she seemed genuinely incapable of understanding the logic of the woman before her.
"...What the hell are you talking about?" Jeanne asked in confusion.
Marie tilted her head slightly.
"What I do not know, I learn. That is my policy. Which is precisely why I cannot stand looking at you like this."
"All I know is that you are taking your anger out on innocent people. And I have absolutely no idea why. Everything is dissolving into a fog, like a girl going out for a Sunday stroll."
"What I do know is this: I will make your heart and body mine!" Marie declared, a dazzling smile appearing on her face.
For several seconds, nobody reacted.
"Uh... huh?"
Jeanne's eyebrow immediately twitched in disgust upon hearing those words.
Her expression became so strange that it was difficult to tell whether she was irritated, confused, or simply offended.
Marie, meanwhile, seemed to finally realize how those words had sounded.
"Oh my goodness. My, my, my. Um, don't misunderstand. I only meant that, as a queen, I will make you kneel."
The explanation came with complete sincerity.
Unfortunately, it did not improve the situation.
Jeanne's expression became even uglier.
A vein visibly bulged on her forehead.
"Enough of this pointless conversation. Very well then, you are my enemy. Servants, deal with that irritating princess first! Then the other one!" Jeanne ordered.
The atmosphere immediately grew heavier.
However, before anyone could act, the space behind Marie Antoinette and Mozart distorted.
Golden ripples spread through the air, and moments later, a golden vortex appeared.
Soon afterward, a figure stepped through the portal.
Wearing only the lower portion of his golden armor, Arthur emerged from the vortex and calmly observed the scene before him.
His gaze briefly passed over Marie Antoinette and Mozart before settling on Jeanne Alter and her four Servants.
His eyes quickly swept across the surrounding area.
Behind him, more figures began emerging from the golden vortex.
Ritsuka was the first, followed immediately by Mash.
Soon afterward, the remaining Servants accompanying the group stepped through the portal one after another, quickly gathering behind Arthur.
The formation took shape almost instantly.
Jeanne, however, wasted no time.
The moment she identified Jeanne Alter, she stepped forward and positioned herself at the front of the formation, directly facing her dark counterpart.
However, before she could say anything, another voice spoke first.
"Dragon Witch... or should I call you Jeanne d'Arc?"
Arthur said as an amused smile appeared on his face.
"It is a pleasure to meet you."
(End of Chapter)
A/N: I have to admit, it's been fun revisiting both the game and the manga of the First Singularity while writing this arc.
Note: Yes, FGO has a manga adaptation covering most of the Singularities. It's called Fate/Grand Order - Turas Réalta.