Became the Weapon Monopolist of the Gods

Joan of Arc had too many things that didn’t add up.

Why did the French leadership entrust military command to a young girl just because she claimed to hear the voice of God?

If Joan was truly a warrior of God, why couldn’t she transcend death through miracles?

Why was Joan always placed in inexplicable danger?

And why did her banner, known as “The Maid’s Banner,” appear in my status window as [The Maidens’ Banner]—plural?

All these questions could be answered by one hypothesis: there wasn’t just one Maiden.

Joan of Arc hadn’t been transcending death; she’d been replaced every time she died, and people called it a “miracle.”

“The Maidens’ Banner” referred to all the girls who had died before her.

Joan of Arc was an artificial Maiden created by France to secure victory in war.

This was why Bishop Cambrai wanted to “dispose” of Joan once Paris was captured—to erase the truth about the Maiden Project from history.

The Maiden wasn’t meant to be seen as a creation but as a noble sacrifice, forever illuminating France’s path.

That was my conclusion: the real face of Joan of Arc, the mysterious maiden of the Hundred Years’ War.

Judging by Bishop Cambrai’s stiff expression, it seemed I was onto something.

“How did you come up with such thoughts?”

“I figured it out watching what you’ve been doing.”

“…”

“It’s obvious how you keep pushing Joan into dangerous situations where she’ll die.”

Countless Maidens had died for the sake of “miracles.” If I hadn’t intervened, Joan would have become another sacrificial lamb for the greater good.

Bishop Cambrai made no effort to hide this fact.

“You’re right, brother. The Maid was created by France—I created her.”

“Does your so-called God approve of gathering innocent girls and killing them?”

“France needs the Maid.”

He rambled on with excuses.

“To save many, some sacrifices are necessary.”

He tried to justify his sins.

“Joan’s death is also necessary for France.”

He elevated this belief into dogma.

“I will bear all the sins myself.”

“…”

Looking at Bishop Cambrai’s seemingly virtuous face, I realized something.

“I get it now.”

“Do you understand?”

“No, I finally understand why the status window told me to protect Joan.”

“…?”

“It’s because of you.”

The status window had assigned me a quest to protect Joan of Arc. This must’ve happened because previous Maidens kept dying prematurely, accelerating Joan’s turn earlier than expected. She was supposed to die at the stake, after all. And the reason those Maidens died early? That guy, Bishop Cambrai over there, probably had something to do with it. His self-righteous face reeked of someone who wouldn’t bat an eye at killing countless girls.

Of course, it wasn’t my place to interfere. Whether he was a saintly savior or a devilish murderer didn’t matter—it was *history*. Just like Napoleon’s success at Toulon or Admiral Yi Sun-sin’s victory at Myeongnyang, Joan’s execution was destined to happen.

“…”

But did I really have to just stand by and watch?

Joan’s pale face as she left the shop lingered in my mind. Then the words from the status window flashed in my head:

[Save the maiden sacrificed in the Hundred Years’ War.]

This likely meant protecting her until the execution. Afterward, I’d wake up back in the pawn shop, rewarded as usual.

“…”

A thought struck me.

‘Do I even need to protect her?’

The quest only said, “Protect the maiden,” without specifying a deadline. While it was easy to infer the deadline was before the execution, there was nothing stopping me from misinterpreting it. Words were open to interpretation, after all.

‘Screw it, I’ll twist it.’

I’m just doing what I’m told.

Bang─!

“What have you done?!” Bishop Cambrai exclaimed, wide-eyed.

Inside the church, a massive crucified Jesus statue hung on the wall. My target, however, wasn’t Jesus—it was the artifacts hanging from his pierced hands: the fake stigmata branding iron and the Maidens’ Banner.

Boom─!

The branding iron fell off Jesus’ left hand, shattered by the bullet.

Bang─!

Next, the banner dangling from his right hand dropped.

“Stop him!”

As I walked toward the fallen relics, Bishop Cambrai shouted furiously.

*

At the heresy tribunal, seventy robed judges sat in rows, filling the courtroom. They were elite theologians from the English Church, gathered here to label Joan a heretic.

In the center of the room sat Joan of Arc. Her complexion was pale after being imprisoned for over a week, and no one stood beside her. Normally, a defendant would have a lawyer, but Joan had none. Meanwhile, seventy expert theologians were ready to prosecute her.

“Inquisitor asks the accused, Joan of Arc: if you are not a heretic, recite the Lord’s Prayer to prove your faith.”

Joan lifted her head. Despite her pallor, her eyes burned brightly.

“Is the bishop a devout believer?”

“Yes, I am a devout believer in the Lord.”

“If so, confirm your devotion by reciting the Lord’s Prayer first.”

Reciting the Lord’s Prayer in Latin was rare, even among experts. Naturally, Bishop Cosquin couldn’t do it. He had only asked Joan to recite it assuming she couldn’t either.

“I’ll summon other clerics to recite it instead.”

“You must do it yourself since you questioned me.”

“…Let’s move on.”

This pattern continued. Every clever trap Bishop Cosquin set, Joan skillfully avoided. Eventually, desperate, he resorted to his final tactic.

“We heard that while imprisoned, the accused dressed as a man.”

Joan had disguised herself as a man to preserve her purity, but cross-dressing violated biblical law. Though excusable under those circumstances, this was still a heresy tribunal. Moreover, Bishop Cosquin had just been bested verbally by Joan in front of all the theologians.

“To the heretic who defied scripture, I sentence you to burn at the stake!”

Joan protested, but her plea was ignored. Finally, she was dragged by knights to the cathedral square, where a crowd had gathered to witness her execution.

“…”

Joan accepted her fate with resignation. No one among the throng spoke or moved to help her. After all, religious tribunals were sacred, and their verdicts came directly from God.

The executioner approached, his face twisted with guilt and fear.

“Forgive me.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Hwarrak─!

The fire ignited beneath Joan’s feet. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands in prayer. At that moment, chaos erupted in the square.

“Stop him!!!”

Bishop Cambrai’s urgent cry echoed across the plaza.

“He mustn’t interfere with the execution!”

Bang─! Clang─!

Familiar sounds of gunfire and clashing metal rang out. And then—

“JEANNE D’ARC!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Joan opened her eyes upon hearing her name called. Turning her head, her eyes widened in shock.

“…Sejun?”

There stood Choi Seo-Joon, holding the Maidens’ Banner.

Crack─!

Before her very eyes, he shattered the banner—a symbol of the Maidens.

“!”

*

[The Maidens’ Banner has been destroyed.]

[Reward artifact eliminated.]

Though I broke the quest reward with my own hands, I didn’t care.

“I don’t want it anyway.”

I tossed the broken banner aside. This blood-soaked flag of sacrifice meant nothing to me. To Joan, it was merely a shackle forcing her into martyrdom.

“Noooooooom───!”

An enraged roar shook the square.

“How dare you desecrate a holy relic!”

Bishop Cambrai charged at me, fury etched on his face. Before he reached me, I sprinted toward the stake.

Smash─!

I kneed the executioner out of the way and swung Twin Dragon Sword at the flames surrounding the stake.

Whoosh─!

The fire vanished instantly.

“What sorcery is this?! The holy flames?!”

Ignoring Cambrai’s shock, I slashed through the ropes binding Joan and caught her as she stumbled weakly.

“Sejun?”

“Hold on a moment.”

No sooner had I set Joan aside than Bishop Cambrai lunged at me.

“How dare you disrupt this sacred trial!”

His fist flew toward me.

After decades of training in the church, Cambrai’s punch radiated with immense divine power—far stronger than any knight he’d previously commanded to die.

Wham─!

While wielding such overwhelming holy might, he never once fought in the war himself. He only demanded others sacrifice themselves.

“Shithead.”

I raised my Twin Dragon Sword.

Then—

[Double-Bladed Sword’s ability unlocked.]

Words appeared in my status window, followed by a familiar voice in my ear.

“To swear upon a three-foot blade, let the mountains tremble.”

三尺誓天山河動色 (Samcheok Seocheon Sanha Dongsaek).

The Twin Dragon Sword glowed with blinding white light, just like when Admiral Yi Sun-sin had cleaved through enemies.

I swung the sword downward at the charging Bishop Cambrai.

KAAAAAAABOOM─!

A deafening roar filled the air as Bishop Cambrai flew backward.

“Cough…”

He slammed into a wall, spitting blood as he collapsed. Turning around, I saw Joan staring at me with a dazed expression.

“You don’t have to sacrifice yourself anymore.”

“…”

Her violet pupils trembled. Soon, tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. These were tears of joy—something you’d never see in official history. Tears from a girl who had transcended her predetermined death.

“Thank you… really…”

Her smile, freed from the burden of sacrifice, was blindingly beautiful.

[Warning]

[Distortion detected in the flow of history.]

Since Joan should’ve died at the stake, the world deemed her survival an anomaly.

[The distorted entity will be expelled from existence.]

The world faded to black. When I opened my eyes, I was back in the pawn shop. And there—

“Sejun-nim, where are we…?”

By my side stood a golden-haired girl with violet eyes.

[!– Slider main container –]