Chapitre 53: The Common Man
The innkeep nervously wiped his cups with a cloth, occasionally glancing at the strange assortment of folks that had walked into his inn some moments ago and managed to drive off the few customers this tiring war had left him.
A blonde man and a grey haired young lady were merrily talking to one another.
...An ashen haired woman was shouting at a blonde, the latter calmly answering each of her seething questions with a homely and gentle grace to her that looked suspiciously similar to Jeanne D'Arc...
Now this was normal, it happened every once in a while.
The lady was probably frustrated about something and getting advice about it.
But that was where normality died and had a longsword jammed in it's corpse.
A red haired girl kept talking to the air, then stopping and nodding along like her delusions were answering her... Meanwhile, on another table, a pale haired teenager was having an armwrestling match with an older purple haired lady and actually struggling.
That would have been weird as shit if not for the fact that they'd broken three tables by slamming their hands down on them, scaring the daylights out of him and making him hope the calamity passed without more damage.
Then there was the fact that on more on one occasion the angrier of the two arguing woman would draw her blade, said blade would fucking catch fire like that was TOTALLY normal and have the young man punch her on the head, whimper and sit down to talk again.
They were also armed to the teeth even if he ignored the magic part.
So, like any sane man, he just kept his mouth shut and did his fucking job.
He was brought out of his profound thoughts when the pale haired teenager suddenly stood up and started eyeballing him.
"H-How may I help, sire?"
He didn't answer, instead he made his way to him with heavy footsteps.
Now... The guy wore strange clothes, had no weapon on him and looked pretty enough you'd think he was a sheltered noble or something... only, when they'd walked in here there'd been a couple of rowdy knights harassing his mother and proceeded to harass the purple haired lady.
Their 'reward' for that was said 'sheltered noble' hitting them hard enough their armour buckled under his fist... He then pried their armour off their unconscious forms and declared it the winner's spoil before literally tossing grown ass men out the motherfucking window like potato sacks.
"You got apple juice or sum?"
"E-Eh?"
"Apple juice, you got it?" The teenager repeated, straddling one of the stools at the counter, "Any kinda juice'll do."
"...A-Are you sure you want something like that? ...Not something s-stronger?" He stammered with his words, afraid of what someone who could beat knights without a stick would do to a no name commoner, "Don't kill me, sire! I have to support my mother!"
"..."
"Nicholas, you're scaring the boy! Be more eloquent with your words!" The purple haired woman lopped her cup at 'Nicholas' and the thing broke against his head, shattering to a million pieces.
"Shut yo damn mouth, Martha. You breaking his shit like it's yours and I'm the scary one?" He shouted back, showing her his middle finger.
The innkeep silently watched the exchange... was this how the English were?
Nicholas turned to flatly stare at him, scratching the back of his head, "I'm Nicholas Martel... Just gimme whatever juice you got, Lord knows I ain't getting drunk."
A last name, a sophisticated sounding one so... an English noble visiting conquered land?
Nodding hesitantly, the innkeep turned around to look for what the 'noble' was asking for.
"Still, I thought you'd be speaking that French whatyoucallit..."
The boy hesitated for a moment, having conflicted thoughts about his language being insulted, "I-I grew up in these times, lord... Enough of your people pass by that I picked up the language."
"Damn... bro a genius." Nicholas whistled, resting his head in his hands with an amused smile, "I ain't even gonna comment on the 'your people' part. What's been going on lately?"
Racking his mind for what might interest a passing noble, possibly with a contingent, the innkeep remembered a smidgen of news that had taken the English like wildfire, "A new c-camp...war? Front? Was started by a new King and your people have been rallying to his side in... big numbers?... Stragglers have been joining him from all over the country... I heard them say King Ar-... I don't remember... sorry... I did hear they were marching for Orleans at animal-like paces taking down the Dragon Witch's commanders one after the other."
Nicholas looked at him in an awed silence before regarding one of his companions, "Gudako, Romani say anything about Brit heroes in this one?"
"Not that I remember?"
"No senpai, we identified this singularity to be purely French related."
"...Did they grow some balls?" Nicholas wondered outloud, thinking to himself, "Nah."
The 'noble' picked up his cup and sauntered over to the table with the tw-... well, technically one arguing woman making him let out a relieved sigh.
That had gone better than expected.
-
"So then, Jeanne one and Jeanne two, how's it going? Y'all come to an understanding yet?"
The 'explosive' one shot to her feet, pointing a finger at the blonde with hateful eyes, "I'm not her! I can't stand her! But then... what am I?"
Nicholas chortled and bopped her on the head with his cup, "Of course you ain't her... You're you."
"But then... I don't get it!" The altered Jeanne D'Arc grabbed her head with both hands, "You know how I came to be! You know how fucked up this is! Why're you so nonchalant about this?! Hey Nicholas... Am I just... some sicko's fucked up fantasy?"
"Technically, all y'all are some sicko's fucked up fantasy." Nicholas shrugged, fate was originally an eroge and with the sort of women he'd met up till now, that perception was only reinforced.
"Y-You're right... It's God! It's all His fault! If He cared, why would He let this happen?! Why would He let his 'saint' be burnt alive?" Jeanne laughed to herself, shrinking into her seat and mumbling to herself.
"..." Nicholas deadpanned and sipped some of his juice, "I don't get all that but... I know I wouldn't ask Jeanne two to marry me moments after meeting her."
"Oh my..." The patron Saint of France covered her mouth with her palm.
"Yeah sorry lady, you too pious for me." Nicholas was not sorry, he signalled to the Dragon Witch with his eyes, "She a real one to me."
"YEAH!" Martha chugged down a poor man's beer like it was her God-given right so a sudden realisation hit her in the face as what was perhaps divine retribution, "Wait... polygyny isn't forbidden... Wait Wait Wait Wait..."
Needless to say, everyone ignored her ramblings.
Jeanne 'Alter' looked at him with wide eyes, stumped and baffled, "Y-You're choosing a f-fake?"
"Like I said, not a fake to me. Don't really give two shits about the logic and whatnot or what some dumb bitch thinks about it." Nicholas sipped his juice with a flat expression, "You exist now so that's that."
"...R-Really?"
"Really."
"F-Forever? You'll think that?"
"Meh... sure?"
"Ah... There's your proof then." The 'real' Jeanne interjected with an elated smile, "The Lord chose to bless you with something I could never obtain... What makes one more real than that?"
Gudako watched them dumbly, "...They're looking at it from the 13th century... He's looking at it from a time where marriages don't last 3 years... Meh."
She didn't give a shit anymore.
The salt had gotten to her.
The 'transformation' was interrupted by Kiyohime kicking down the door, right on top of Marie in righteous retribution because the chick was just watching them with that stupid romcom fan smile.
"Why would you leave me in the forest, dear?!"
"Get the fuck outta here, hoe!"
"... I love that you're so honest~." The dragon smiled willfully before pausing and looking around, "You've been getting rowdy here..."
She sauntered over to the counter and pulled out a small bag from her sleeve, "I found these stones in the city that dumb bimbo destroyed... I don't need it as long as I have my darling so I'll give it to you. Sorry he's such a delinquent."
She offered her bag to the innkeep, bowing earnestly.
"T-Thank you?"
-
Hope you enjoyed the chapter.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone