"All right, time to go."
Jeanne Alter had already changed, ready to head to Kuoh Academy for the three-way summit.
She wore her signature black trench coat, its hem nearly brushing the ground, embroidered with dragon motifs. She'd spotted it at the mall and instantly decided nothing else would do.
She'd been fond of black trench coats since middle school, probably influenced by Kiritsugu Emiya. She especially loved windy days, when the coat's hem fluttered dramatically—it made her feel extremely cool.
Sadly, trench coats were impractical for both scorching heat and freezing cold. She once tried to wear one on a blazing summer day, but her parents vetoed it instantly, complaining that it "looked too hot."
As everyone knows, parents always define what's hot or cold by sight alone.
But now things were different. As a Servant, could she really suffer heatstroke just from an extra coat?
Fenghuang liked trench coats; Jeanne Alter also liked trench coats. Thus, her fondness doubled!
"Take care, Jeanne-san! I'll look after Ophis while you're gone!"
Asia smiled warmly, bidding farewell from the living room, only to receive Jeanne Alter's confused stare.
"What are you talking about? You're coming too, obviously."
"Eh? Me too?"
"Stop standing there looking surprised. Hurry up and get changed. We need to arrive before those lunatics attack, or I won't even get a chance to provide support."
Koneko wasn't home. She'd spent the entire day at Rias's side as her servant.
Since Jeanne Alter would take Asia to Kuoh Academy, that meant Ophis would be home alone.
"Ophis, remember: do not—absolutely do NOT—leave the house or open the door to strangers, even if it sounds like me, because I have my own key…"
Jeanne had repeated these instructions about three times already. Even she felt she was getting overly repetitive, though it was unclear what Ophis thought.
Actually, why did these words feel so familiar? Didn't all parents give similar advice?
Since Ophis's face remained utterly expressionless, Jeanne couldn't tell if the dragon god was listening or daydreaming.
"You got it? Nod if you understand."
Ophis nodded blankly.
Jeanne hesitated briefly, then decided against making Ophis repeat her instructions.
Moments later, Asia appeared in front of Jeanne Alter, having changed clothes. Jeanne's brow furrowed slightly at the sight.
"Why the nun's habit again?"
"B-because… because angels will be at the meeting, right?"
Asia nervously clasped her hands, eyes lowered shyly. "Won't it be disrespectful to meet angels without wearing it?"
Jeanne Alter scoffed dismissively.
"Don't worry about that—we're going to cause trouble for the angels today, anyway."
"…Eh? Ehhhhhh?!"
...
It was a holiday, and Kuoh Academy had already been cleared. The three-way summit would take place late at night.
Though no students or teachers roamed the campus, it was hardly deserted. In fact, the place buzzed with activity.
Kuoh Academy teemed with figures from all three factions: fallen angels, angels, and devils filled the sky.
They were easy enough to distinguish: fallen angels had black feathered wings, devils had bat-like wings, and angels had glowing halos and white wings.
Tension crackled palpably in the air. Even from a distance, Jeanne Alter could smell gunpowder, as if a fight might break out at any moment.
The faction leaders would meet inside the school building, while these minions guarded the perimeter against suspicious intruders.
When Jeanne Alter arrived, the guards from all sides immediately labeled her suspicious. Faced with countless hostile gazes, Asia cowered behind Jeanne, nearly fainting from fright.
"Stop—they're not suspicious," came a calm voice as steady footsteps approached.
Sirzechs stepped forward, smiling politely. "Sorry for the wait."
"Quite the opposite—you arrived too early," Jeanne Alter sneered, folding her arms. "Any later and I would've had an excuse to crush these insects."
"Oh? Then I'm glad I came in time. It's rare for our three factions to meet peacefully; letting you start a massacre would've made it hard to explain."
Sirzechs chuckled helplessly.
"Humph! You should've considered this outcome before inviting me," Jeanne retorted, rolling her eyes.
Sirzechs led the way, evidently concerned some fool might provoke Jeanne if left alone. Snobs like Raynare, looking down on humans due to racial superiority, weren't uncommon.
Asia followed Jeanne anxiously, face pale, hands clenched nervously against her chest. In the quiet darkness, Jeanne clearly heard Asia's panicked breathing.
Suddenly, Jeanne slapped Asia's back lightly, making the girl jump in fright.
"J-Jeanne-san?"
"Tch! Why are you so tense? You're even making me nervous."
She slapped Asia's back again, nearly knocking her off balance.
"B-but… there are so many angels here…"
"They're not important angels, just lackeys following big shots. Besides, I'm on equal footing with those big shots inside. Meaning your status is no lower than those guys up there—so why be scared?"
"Eh? Can we count it like that?" Asia asked, utterly confused by Jeanne's twisted logic.
"Of course! Or do you think I'm weaker than Azazel?"
"N-No! Jeanne-san is amazing! You're incredible! Not inferior to anyone!"
"Good!" Jeanne smirked, clearly pleased by Asia's praise. "Now, since you're my follower, lift your chin proudly and look down your nose at them."
"Oh… okay! I'll try my best!"
"Good attitude. But there's room for improvement. Here, let me teach you how to build confidence… slowly raise one hand, make a fist with the back of your hand facing them, then lift your middle finger…"
"Middle finger?"
"Yes, the middle finger. Do the same with the other hand."
"Will… that give me confidence?"
"Definitely! And don't forget to shout loudly at your opponents, 'If you're weak, get better!'"
"'If you're weak… get better?'"
"Not bad. But louder next time."
As Jeanne teased Asia, they arrived at the entrance guided by Sirzechs.
There, a familiar figure waited.
"Yo, Witch-san. Long time no see."
With a mischievous smile, Azazel leaned against the wall, waving casually. "Surprised Sirzechs actually managed to drag you here. Thought you'd refuse—"
In a sudden flash, a blade cut through the air like cloth.
CLANG!
Azazel froze, half-kneeling, holding Jeanne's blade just inches above his head.
"Yo, black-feathered pigeon. Surprised you're still alive."
Jeanne grinned darkly, pressing harder on the sword.
"I-I'm gonna die, die, die, die…!"
"Oh? So you want to die? You should've said so sooner. Happy to oblige."
"Calm down! I don't wanna die! It'll cause a huge mess! Your strength is ridiculous as ever!"
A crisis narrowly avoided—seeing their leader attacked, the fallen angels tensed, ready to retaliate. If they acted, angels and devils wouldn't stand idle, plunging them into immediate chaos.
War was a powder keg needing only a spark. Once ignited, it would rage uncontrollably until everything burned out.
Fortunately, the leaders quickly calmed their followers.
Azazel soothed the fallen angels, Sirzechs and Serafall pacified the devils, and for the angels—
"I'm Michael, leader of Heaven's angels. That was quite dangerous just now."
A gentle young man with flowing golden hair smiled warmly, six pairs of golden wings on his back.
Seraph Michael, Governor-General Azazel, Satan Sirzechs Lucifer—
Such grand names had gathered at this modest Kuoh Academy.
"Tch! So unnecessary," Jeanne scoffed, arms crossed. "One good flame blast from me, and they'd lose interest in fighting immediately."
"Please refrain from causing further chaos, Jeanne-san," Sirzechs sighed helplessly.
Michael smiled calmly, carefully studying Jeanne Alter.
"Thank you for coming, Jeanne-san. Ever since learning about you, we've wanted to meet."
"Great. Now that we've met, can I cut you down?"
Jeanne's hostility burned fiercely, her bottomless magic igniting sparks in the air.
Sirzechs and Azazel both flinched slightly from the heat. Asia, closest of all, remained unharmed, oblivious to how the embers carefully avoided her, too worried about Jeanne's aggression toward Michael.
"You have reasons to hate us," Michael nodded softly. "But please understand—my life no longer belongs solely to me. Too many burdens rest upon my shoulders. Reality forbids me from dying now."
Michael's unwavering gaze met Jeanne's burning golden eyes directly, confronting the hateful flames head-on.
After a tense moment, Jeanne shut her eyes.
"Humph! Stupid self-sacrifice. Even if I don't kill you, you won't live long anyway—just like that foolish master of yours."
"For me, that counts as the highest praise," Michael replied, smiling warmly.
The meeting was about to begin. Michael and Sirzechs left first.
Jeanne sensed urgency in Michael's demeanor. Clearly, he had something important to discuss at the meeting.
Azazel lingered, clearly needing a moment with Jeanne before joining the others.
"What? Did you get addicted to pain last time and want another taste of my flames?" Jeanne mocked, eyes glinting menacingly.
"Can you stop always threatening violence?"
Azazel recoiled nervously, clutching his chest. "Jeez, Saint Jeanne wasn't this violent… Is this part of your witch side?"
"Who knows? Guess for yourself."
Azazel shrugged helplessly. "Anyway… I actually wanted you to return my [Sacred Gear]."
"[Sacred Gear]? When did I take yours… Oh."
She suddenly recalled their previous fight and how she'd taken Azazel's gear—his artificial [Sacred Gear] housing Fafnir's soul.
"Sure, if you can take it."
"Really?!" Azazel's eyes lit up.
Smirking, Jeanne tossed the golden dagger casually. As Azazel eagerly reached for it, the blade instantly flew back, faster than before, into Jeanne's grip.
Awkward silence filled the air.