As Jeanne stepped into the Student Council Room, the crisp scent of paper and polish greeted her senses—along with two familiar faces seated behind their desks.
"President Shitori. Vice President Shinra. It's been a while," she said, offering a small, composed smile that barely reached her eyes.
For a heartbeat, Tsubaki stiffened, caught off guard by the sheer irony of a Saint cheerfully greeting devils. Yet Sona, as poised as ever, replied without missing a beat.
"Yes. It's always pleasant to see you around the school, d'Arc Student."
"You can just call me Jeanne. I'm more used to that," she said gently, her voice soft but clear.
Sona gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "I see. Jeanne-san, then. Are you feeling better?"
Jeanne returned the nod, the motion deliberate and modest. "Yes. There are still moments of drowsiness, but nothing severe enough to interfere with my studies."
A textbook-perfect answer. Sona's lips curled slightly upward, satisfied by the composed response.
"Then, what brings you to the Student Council today?"
"The missing work," Jeanne began, her tone calm and direct. "You mentioned I could retrieve it either from you or from my homeroom teacher. Since Hanakai-san was already showing me around—and she's part of the Council—I figured it'd be efficient to handle everything here."
"Ah, I nearly forgot," Sona murmured before turning. "Tsubaki?"
Jeanne watched silently as the Vice President moved to the cabinet without hesitation. Tsubaki's expression remained unreadable as she retrieved a neatly stacked folder, the rustle of paper echoing softly in the quiet room.
To Jeanne's relief, the folder didn't seem overly thick.
As Tsubaki handed it over, Jeanne accepted it with both hands, lowering her head in a respectful bow. "Thank you, Vice President Shinra."
"This is part of my responsibilities. There's no need to thank me," Tsubaki replied with professional indifference.
"No... it's still partly my fault," Jeanne said, her voice tinged with genuine remorse. "I should've contacted the school earlier about my condition."
Her words were sincere, yet somewhere deep inside, she knew she was playing the role of the contrite student a bit too well. After all, the drowsiness wasn't entirely involuntary. The Sloth bestowed upon her by Metatron's Seven Sins had simply amplified what already existed within her—a subconscious willingness to remain idle, dressed up now as a divine burden.
"It's fine, Jeanne-san," Sona said, her voice steady. "Just try to notify us in advance next time, if possible."
'And how exactly am I supposed to do that?' Jeanne mused dryly. 'Am I meant to look into the future and warn everyone before I willingly pass out?'
Of course, she said nothing of the sort out loud.
"Yes, President Shitori," she answered obediently.
There was a brief pause before Sona glanced at the clock.
"It's still lunch break, though some time has already passed... Jeanne-san, did you pack a lunch today?"
Jeanne gave a soft shake of her head. "No, I didn't pack any lunch today."
Truthfully, she'd meant to learn cooking someday. It was on her to-do list, buried somewhere between "adjust to this world's rhythm" and "reclaim a sense of normalcy." Yet, despite her intentions, none of the three consciousnesses inside her—herself, Jeanne Alter, or her original self—had ever truly cooked a meal from scratch.
Jeanne Alter, after all, wasn't even supposed to exist in Proper Human History. A fabrication of Gilles de Rais' desperate wish, she was more sword than soul. Joan of Arc, the real one, had lived her short life as a warrior blessed by divine revelation, with barely any time for the mundane joys of village life. Cooking? It had never been a priority.
And Metatron—well. While the angelic consciousness within her might have claimed omniscience in some cosmic sense, it had never actually boiled rice, let alone prepared a Japanese bento.
Her past self, the one before transmigrating, had a resume limited to frying eggs, making ham sandwiches, and boiling instant ramen. That was the extent of her culinary repertoire.
Still, there had always been a desire. The Jeanne within her longed to learn, perhaps to chase a romantic ideal—of youthful mornings spent making lunches for oneself, or maybe for someone else. Her original personality found a strange charm in the idea too.
But then came the incident with Metatron's Sloth. An amplified lethargy rooted in her soul. Since then, she hadn't even managed to begin learning.
Still, she hadn't given up. One day, she swore, she'd make bentos so perfect, they'd look like something out of a shoujo manga. After all, she was attending a Japanese high school—it was practically a rite of passage.
"No, I didn't bring any. Why do you ask?" she asked.
"Then, would you like to stay and have some snacks with us?" Sona offered with a calm, graceful smile.
Jeanne blinked. That... was unexpected.
Free food?
Her survival instincts as a high schooler immediately flared. Free food should never be turned down. Even if she didn't understand the reasoning behind it, nothing seemed off—so there was no reason to decline.
"Then I'll gladly intrude, President Shitori," she replied politely.
Sona led her to a corner of the room furnished with elegant sofas, an ornate chessboard resting nearby, and polished plates laid out with what could only be described as high-end confectionery.
"Tsubaki, could you prepare some tea for our guest?"
"Understood, President."
As Tsubaki stepped toward the sleek kitchenette, Jeanne watched with barely concealed unease. The atmosphere felt less like a high school student council room and more like the drawing room of an aristocratic household.
'Am I in a noble's manor or something? What happened to my lighthearted Japanese school romance plot?' she thought, already feeling comically displaced.
Before she could spiral further, Sona's composed voice broke through her thoughts.
"I heard you stayed in France before transferring here. How has Japan been treating you, Jeanne-san?"
'Is this a pleasant conversation or a soft interrogation?' Jeanne mused.
Technically, she had nothing to hide—at least not about her past. The real secrets lay elsewhere.
"I quite enjoy the atmosphere here," she said honestly. "Kuoh has a charming, peaceful vibe. It feels like a good place to live."
"Have you explored the area much?" Sona asked, tilting her head slightly. "There are several local spots worth seeing. I could recommend a few if you're interested."
Jeanne offered a sheepish smile. "Unfortunately, I haven't had the chance yet. Soon after moving in, I was hit with... a rather extreme bout of narcolepsy. But the walk here today was calming and scenic."
Sona winced ever so slightly, guilt flickering across her usually unreadable features.
But Jeanne noticed. She leaned forward, voice light and reassuring. "Please don't worry. It wasn't something either of us could've predicted. But I do plan to explore more, and I'd appreciate any recommendations you have."
Relieved, Sona nodded and offered several suggestions—among them, a local park and a nearby shrine.
If memory served, that shrine might've been the Himejima Shrine, maintained by none other than Himejima Akeno, one of Kuoh Academy's Two Great Ladies. A title that, in Jeanne's opinion, sounded more like high school pageantry than anything meaningful.
She hadn't yet caught a glimpse of the so-called poster girls of Kuoh Academy. For now, they remained rumors to her.
The two continued chatting, their conversation flowing more smoothly than Jeanne had expected. She had initially assumed Sona would press her for information. Her name alone should have raised a dozen red flags. And yet, their discussion remained surprisingly mundane.
By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch break, Jeanne found herself comfortably full and armed with local dinner recommendations.
Rising from the sofa, she gave a respectful bow. "Thank you for your hospitality, President Shitori. May the Lord be with you."
Sona's eyes twitched slightly at the parting blessing, but she kept her expression composed, a faint smile touching her lips. "You're welcome, Jeanne-san. I enjoyed our conversation."
As the door closed behind Jeanne, silence returned to the Student Council room. Sona watched the door for a moment longer, then murmured under her breath:
"…Is she doing this on purpose?"
She couldn't tell.
Despite the suspicious name and her unnervingly devout manner, Jeanne had come across as nothing but sincere—warm, respectful, and gentle to everyone she addressed. There was something refreshingly honest about her.
And yet…
There was no trace of holy energy. Not even a flicker. That alone was odd.
Sona had subtly cast a suggestion spell earlier, just as a test. It had failed. Completely. Jeanne hadn't reacted to it at all. That kind of resistance wasn't normal.
Perhaps Jeanne was simply one of those rare humans with an innate immunity to supernatural influence. It happened.
But after their talk, Sona found herself less inclined to doubt.
Jeanne wasn't a threat.
No, she was—surprisingly—pleasant.
If only she didn't keep invoking the man upstairs…
--+--
Sona leaned back in her chair once Jeanne had fully disappeared from view, the soft click of the closing door lingering in the room like a half-finished sentence.
Silence reclaimed the space, broken only by the faint clatter of porcelain as Tsubaki returned with the tea set she hadn't gotten to serve. The aroma of oolong drifted through the air, but Sona hardly noticed.
Instead, her thoughts lingered—unwilling to let go of the peculiar guest who had just left.
"She's… different," Sona finally murmured, her voice quiet, yet firm.
Tsubaki glanced her way. "Should I begin a more thorough background investigation?"
Sona hesitated.
That was the logical next step. Everything about Jeanne d'Arc's sudden appearance at Kuoh Academy defied what little order Sona liked to maintain. A girl bearing the name of one of the most iconic saints in history, with no detectable holy aura, no divine presence, and an otherworldly resistance to magic—and yet acting like the most sincere, well-meaning girl on campus?
Nothing added up.
And yet…
"No," Sona said at last, shaking her head. "Not yet."
Tsubaki didn't question the decision. She trusted Sona's judgment, even if the reasoning behind it was unclear.
Sona folded her hands in front of her, fingers laced together as her eyes drifted to the chessboard by the sofa. The board was untouched, but her mind moved across it regardless—mentally placing Jeanne on the edge of it.
Was she a pawn? A bishop? A queen?
Or something that didn't belong on the board at all?
"She feels… human," Sona whispered more to herself than to her vice president. "But it's like watching someone wear a mask they don't even know they're wearing."
From their conversation, Sona had sensed a strange duality in Jeanne. She was clearly intelligent, emotionally perceptive, and polite to the point of formality—but she wasn't guarded in the way supernatural beings usually were. She didn't hide with precision or intention. It was more like she simply... existed between worlds. Walking through one while peering into another.
Even the way she accepted the snacks, the way her eyes lit up ever so slightly at the sight of free food—it was so mundane, so honest, that it almost disarmed Sona.
No pretense. No mask. But also, too clean to be unintentional.
She couldn't even tell if Jeanne's last line—"May the Lord be with you"—was sincere or a subtle jab. Sona had trained herself not to react to religious rhetoric, especially in a town with such complex undercurrents of power. But that phrase, spoken with such quiet grace, had landed like a stone in a pond. It echoed.
And yet… there was no hostility.
No threat.
If anything, Jeanne gave the impression of someone who wanted to belong here.
Someone who, despite her eccentricities and strangeness, earnestly wanted a normal school life.
Sona sighed softly.
"Maybe I'm overthinking it."
She turned her gaze to the window, the afternoon light slipping in through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the room. Outside, the students were beginning to move again—lunch break winding down, classes soon to resume.
And somewhere among them, Jeanne would be walking the halls, perfectly blending into the crowd, and yet standing out in ways only Sona seemed to notice.
A strange variable.
A peaceful enigma.
Sona narrowed her eyes slightly.
"If she really is just a girl trying to live a normal life… then I suppose I'll see her again soon."
And when that time came, she would be watching.
Closely.
Because whatever Jeanne d'Arc truly was beneath that soft smile and school uniform… she was not just another student.
--+--
As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Jeanne let out a sigh—quiet, but long.
Well, that wasn't as awkward as she'd feared.
She adjusted the folder in her arms, starting down the hallway at an easy pace. The sound of her shoes echoed faintly in the near-empty corridor. Her stomach still felt warm from the tea and snacks, but her head was buzzing.
That whole meeting had felt like some kind of interview. A test. Or worse—an interrogation wrapped in polite smiles and porcelain cups.
Sona Shitori had been nice. Polite. Civil. But definitely watching her like a chess player waiting for the other side to move.
Still, Jeanne didn't think she'd failed whatever test that had been. Probably.
She glanced at the folder. Makeup work. She was lucky there wasn't much. Getting sick right after transferring in had been terrible timing, even if it wasn't exactly a normal illness. But she had no one to blame but herself.
Well—technically, she could blame Sloth. That stupid Bestowal of Sin thing.
Not that it mattered now.
She sighed again, softer this time.
She hadn't lied when she said she wanted to get better. She really did want to live like a normal student. Eat convenience store bread on the way to school. Complain about tests. Make her own lunch like the girls in dramas.
It was dumb. But also... kind of appealing.
"God, I can't even cook rice," she muttered under her breath.
She'd promised herself, though. She would learn. One step at a time. Start with rice. Maybe work up to a decent bento. It was just the thing to do in a place like this. And honestly? Part of her kind of liked the idea of being the kind of girl who brought her own lunch and shared it with her friends.
If she ever made any.
Turning the corner, she spotted her classroom up ahead. The halls were starting to fill again, the low chatter of students trickling back after lunch. A few looked her way—some out of curiosity, maybe recognizing her as the weird new girl who'd collapsed a few days ago.
Jeanne gave them a small, polite smile.
No need to overthink it. Just smile, nod, and keep walking.
She might've been made from three different personalities, technically not supposed to exist, and carrying divine leftovers inside her soul, but none of that mattered right now.
Right now, she was just Jeanne.
The new transfer student.
Who owed the student council snacks and had no idea how to cook.
She chuckled to herself as she reached the classroom door.
"Let's try not to fall asleep today," she whispered, and walked in.
--+--
When Jeanne stepped back into the classroom, the bell was just a breath away from ringing.
A few students glanced up as she walked in. No one said anything at first, but she could feel the mild curiosity prickling in the air—just enough to notice, not enough to be uncomfortable. She was still the new girl, after all. The one who fainted on her first day.
She offered a small, practiced smile and made her way back to her seat by the window. Calm steps. Unhurried.
"Back from the Student Council?" someone asked lightly as she pulled out her chair.
Jeanne looked up. Tanaka. The boy who sat beside her.
"Mm. Just picking up the makeup work I missed," she replied, holding up the folder with a faint shrug.
"Must've been a stack, huh?" he grinned.
"A little mountain. Manageable, though," Jeanne said with a soft chuckle. "I'm good at procrastinating responsibly."
That got a snort from a girl nearby—Rika, she remembered. The one with the cute stationery and color-coded notebooks.
"You seem too calm about all this," Rika said, leaning back in her chair.
"Well," Jeanne replied, resting her cheek in her palm, "freaking out takes energy. I'm trying to conserve mine."
A few quiet laughs followed. It was light. Easy.
She didn't mind these kinds of exchanges. Friendly chatter, a little teasing—close enough to feel like part of the class, far enough not to invite any real closeness.
She kept her tone warm, her expressions soft. People seemed to like that.
And as long as no one tried to dig deeper, she was fine with it too.
"Hey, if you need help with the assignments, you can ask," Rika offered suddenly. "I've got extra copies of the notes."
"Oh, thank you. I might take you up on that," Jeanne said with a grateful nod.
She meant it. But she probably wouldn't.
Not because she didn't appreciate it—she did. But asking for help meant continuing the conversation later. Following up. Staying connected.
And Jeanne… wasn't really that kind of person.
She liked people. She liked smiling at them, offering polite greetings, saying kind things when needed. But anything beyond that felt like she was stretching herself too far out of the shell she'd carefully built.
A shell made of quiet afternoons, books, and the comforting hum of being alone.
When class began again, Jeanne slipped into silence, her eyes drifting occasionally to the window. Sunlight glinted off the rooftops outside. Kuoh really did feel peaceful.
She just hoped it stayed that way.
--+--
The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day.
Freedom.
For Jeanne, it was a taste of sweet release. The weight of her responsibilities was momentarily lifted, but despite the freedom now at her fingertips, a small part of her—a voice that felt almost foreign—whispered in her mind. The Saint Jeanne side of her, ever the voice of responsibility, scolded her gently for even thinking of indulging herself.
She sighed inwardly, pouting in frustration as she walked out of the classroom.
The work left undone was not insignificant, though it wasn't overwhelming either. The homeroom teacher had given her until next Monday to finish everything, a small mercy. She could put it off until Sunday, but a small part of her couldn't escape the nagging thought of it.
Her lips curved upward. As tempting as it was to dive into the task of learning to cook—a hobby that still felt like a foreign land to her—she was more inclined to take the day to celebrate her return to school in the simplest way possible. She was going to have a burger. Nothing fancy. Just a juicy, greasy burger.
She could already hear Jeanne Alter's enthusiastic cheers in her mind, the voice full of mischief and delight, while Saint Jeanne could only sigh, disappointed, somewhere in the depths of her thoughts.
Sona had recommended a burger joint not far from her home, located near a plaza she often passed by. The idea of indulging in something simple but comforting lifted her spirits.
As she strolled towards the plaza, the promise of good food on her mind, her gaze landed on something... curious.
A figure stood not far from her, a child, though their appearance was anything but ordinary. The girl had long, jet-black hair cascading down to her hips, but it was her attire that caught Jeanne's attention. The child was staring, wide-eyed and fascinated, at a pudding displayed in a shop window.
But that wasn't what made her stand out. No, it was the gothic lolita dress she wore—a dress that, rather than concealing, audaciously revealed her breasts, with tape awkwardly placed across them as if to hold them in place.
Jeanne's eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat as she muttered under her breath, "What in the world...?"
She couldn't tear her gaze away from the strange sight, her mind racing to process what she'd just witnessed.
Jeanne's footsteps quickened as she walked toward the strange child. Something about the girl seemed vaguely familiar, but it had been ages since she last engaged with any media from DxD. The child might just be a minor side character—nothing more, nothing less.
But as Jeanne drew nearer, she couldn't quite place the feeling. There was something about her presence that felt... hollow. Maybe a mascot? Perhaps.
The child's head turned at the sound of Jeanne's approach. Her expression was initially blank, but as soon as their eyes met, it shifted dramatically. It wasn't an obvious change, but Jeanne caught the spark in the child's gaze—her eyes opening ever so slightly, a glimmer of recognition, or perhaps anticipation.
Before Jeanne could even respond, the girl sprinted toward her, her tiny arms wrapping around Jeanne's legs in an eager, desperate hug—as though she had just found salvation.
"Mmmm..."
Jeanne froze, her entire body stiffening. What in the world?
"Uhm... child, why are you hugging me?" Jeanne asked, her voice tinged with confusion, though she couldn't bring herself to push the child away.
The girl—Ophis, was it?—looked up at Jeanne, her face calm, yet her eyes wide with a sense of certainty. And there it was. Damn, that's cute!
"You... feel like home... You... smell nice..." Ophis mumbled, her voice soft but oddly confident.
Jeanne blinked, processing the words in her head. Okay, I understood nothing.
"Do you have parents?" Jeanne asked gently, her worry beginning to rise. She didn't expect the child to answer, but her heart ached at the thought.
Ophis's head dipped slowly in a soft, solemn shake.
Jeanne's chest tightened. The sight of such a small, fragile child with no parents was enough to ignite her protective instincts.
"Do you have a home?" Jeanne asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Ophis shook her head again.
"I... got kicked out..." Ophis mumbled, her voice trailing off, barely audible.
Her family got hit by loan sharks? Homeless? Jeanne's heart clenched, pity flooding her thoughts. How sad...
"Do you have a place to stay?" Jeanne asked, her concern mounting.
Once more, Ophis shook her head, and Jeanne's mind raced. This child was alone, no home, no family, and wearing that... obscene clothing? Who was supposed to be taking care of her? Jeanne's protective instincts flared. If I find her guardian, they're done for. No one treats a child like this.
Without thinking, Jeanne spoke before her mind could fully catch up to her words.
"Uh... I'm not being weird or anything, but would you like to live with me?"
Ophis's eyes widened—just the slightest fraction, a tiny shift in her expression—but it was enough for Jeanne to catch it.
The child froze for a moment, then mumbled, her voice quiet, almost shy, "Maybe... I can wait a little longer for silence..."
Jeanne smiled warmly, her heart feeling lighter. "Okay!" she replied, her tone filled with quiet confidence.
Who cares about all the legal stuff? she thought. I'm doing good. I'll take care of her. God will be proud of this!
"So... what's your name? I'm Jeanne d'Arc," she introduced herself, still processing the strange turn of events.
"...Ophis," the child replied, her voice small but clear. The name sounded vaguely familiar, though Jeanne couldn't put her finger on it. Ophis... It must have been a minor character, a mascot maybe. Jeanne didn't much care for canon anyway, especially when it came to chatting with characters. If she were concerned with that, she'd avoid the devils at all costs, but no—this was just a small act of charity. No harm, right?
But as her mind returned to the present, a sudden, gnawing feeling reminded her that she hadn't eaten yet. She was starving.
"But... can you let go? I was going to eat dinner," Jeanne asked, her tone softening. "Let's eat together!"
Ophis hesitated, reluctant to release her hold. She didn't want to let go of what she had just found. What felt like home.
Jeanne, sensing the hesitation, quickly added, "We can hold hands instead!" She extended her hand, hoping to compromise.
The moment their fingers touched, Jeanne's mind suddenly snapped back to the strange clothing Ophis was wearing. Her heart stopped for a moment.
"HOLY—" she gasped, remembering in an instant. "I completely forgot!"
Instead of merely holding Ophis's hand, Jeanne quickly scooped the small child up in her arms, lifting her as though she were a mother cradling her young. Ophis's legs were securely held in one arm, while Jeanne's free hand gently patted her back in a smooth, reassuring motion.
It was the perfect position, one that shielded Ophis's front—thankfully—away from prying eyes. The sight of the girl's indecent clothing, with its revealing nature, was certainly not for the gaze of anyone who wasn't prepared for it. If anyone were to see... well, the police would likely have some questions.
Ophis blinked at the sudden shift, surprised, but her expression quickly softened into one of quiet contentment. She dug herself further into Jeanne's nape, her small arms wrapped tightly around Jeanne, as she savored the scent and the warmth of her chest.
This... this felt like the kind of peace that could rival Silence itself.
Jeanne didn't forget to occasionally pat Ophis's back in a slow, rhythmic motion, her fingers stroking softly along the child's spine. At first, Ophis didn't react, but then, an odd sound filled the air—a soft, vibrating hum, like a purr.
Jeanne froze for a moment, then smiled to herself. It was adorable. Who cares? She wasn't about to question a child's natural instincts.
With Ophis comfortably nestled in her arms, Jeanne began walking toward the nearest children's clothing store, her pace steady. The warmth of the child in her arms made her feel oddly protective, as if she had already claimed her place in her life.
The store didn't take long to navigate. Jeanne quickly picked out a few sets of clothing—relatively presentable and comfortable—things that would be more fitting for Ophis's age and, more importantly, her situation. She couldn't help but smile at the task. Is this what it feels like to have a kid?
The thought kept swirling in Jeanne's mind as she carefully chose from the racks. Ophis was just too cute; it was a struggle to pick out anything. Every piece of clothing seemed perfect.
As they left the store, Jeanne held Ophis's hand in one hand, the new clothes tucked in the other. The two walked together through the plaza, and as Ophis glanced up at Jeanne, a curious look flickered in her eyes.
"...?" Ophis tilted her head slightly.
Jeanne blinked in confusion. What's that look?
Before she could ask, Ophis suddenly let go of her hand, raising both of her tiny hands into the air.
"Ah, you want uppies?" Jeanne guessed, a laugh bubbling in her throat as she caught on to the child's silent request.
Ophis nodded eagerly, her face a mix of innocence and subtle longing.
Jeanne's heart melted. Of course she couldn't deny this child anything. She could even lift Ophis one-handed if she wanted to—after all, her Strength Stat was B rank. It was no problem.
With Ophis now safely in her arms, the two continued toward the burger restaurant, Jeanne's movements steady as she carried her new little companion. When they finally reached their destination, Jeanne set Ophis down, and they both ordered their food.
The burger was undeniably delicious. Ophis's expression remained as plain as ever, a subtle mask of neutrality. But when Jeanne offered her a bite, Ophis's face softened, and a hint of satisfaction glimmered in her eyes. Was it good? Jeanne couldn't quite tell, but she was glad to see the child enjoy it, even if in her own quiet way.
But it wasn't just the burger that caught Ophis's attention—no, it was the sweets. Jeanne noticed how Ophis's eyes brightened as she looked longingly at the dessert counter. The child had a special place in her heart for sugary treats, that was for sure.
As for Jeanne, well, she had unrealistically large amounts of money when she first transmigrated. Both Saint Jeanne's and her original personality were frugal to a fault, so the wealth had mostly gone unused. But if Ophis was going to spend it on sweets, then... that wasn't a bad thing, was it?
Suddenly, Jeanne found herself contemplating something she hadn't in a long time. With a new little one in her life, maybe it was time to put that money to better use. There was now an actual reason to learn how to cook other than cause it looked cool.
Damn it, Jeanne thought, glancing at Ophis as the child happily munched on her dessert. Why does this always happen to me?
It wasn't that she hated Ophis, but the inner side of her was going to be holding off from learning how to cook for as long as possible...
God is dead...
--+--
A/N: Explanation Author Notes! Also, I would be thankful if one could spare some Power Stones!
Now, you folks may be confused as hell why Ophis is here.
I don't know either. But Ophis is a whimsical person in general in most fanfics, appearing out of nowhere. I see nothing wrong with her appearance in this story.
I like Ophis as a character! She's cute!
There is a decent reason though. Since this is Jeanne's first time out of the house that seals every source of energy from the outside, normally unnoticable aura releases.
While I did say earlier that if Jeanne doesn't use Metatron or Intent on Holy power, it would be hidden, this is a completely different source.
Jeanne's original soul, being a transmigrator, means that even for the smallest of times, she was soaked, lathered, pasted in multiversal radiation, and I say that Ophis loves that shit cause I'm the author.
Or rather, Jeanne is basically saturated in Dimensional Gap vibes, and Ophis fw that shit.
Only people used to said Dimensional Gap would feel it, so only Ophis and Great Red, and probably the Wizards of Oz.(There could be more)
The scent or pheromones from Jeanne is the Dragon Witch.
If the Bestowal of Seven Sins is an A rank skill yet seeps into Jeanne's personality even a little despite not using Metatron's powers, what do you think would happen if an EX rank skill seeps into Jeanne.
EX doesn't mean it's just one level above A, it could be an infinite amount larger than A. It's literally unbounded.
So despite not being Jeanne Alter, i made it so Dragon Witch in the DxD verse is essentially a hax affinity booster for dragons, and the Jeanne rn has it.
Its just that the hax affinity with dragons goes up a shit ton when Jeanne is actually Jeanne Alter.
Although Ophis came to Jeanne cause of the Dimensional Gap radiation, the scent is what keeps her there.
But for now, there's no specific reason that Jeanne would turn Alter.
Now you may be wondering about the Khaos Brigade.
That's spoilers~ (jk i don't even have a plan what can I even spoil)
--+--
Another A/N but a rant(?) this time: Bro, raynare is a waste of a design. Like lowkey I was looking at her LN art and DAMN she hot as hell but she dies in like one fucking volume.
Also, I got possible GOD TIER SYNERGY with Nereid Kyrie and Dragon Witch, cause even though Dragon Witch does give Charisma with dragons, it says on the thing that she possesses the power of the Dragon Kind.
Well, I also just like Ingvild Leviathan.
Peak character.
I also like Lint Sellzen as well.
I also like Latia Astaroth.
I also like Le Fay.
I also like Valerie.
Best Gremory is the ancestor! my GOAT Runeas Gremory!
I saw a fanfic with Lavinia and now I like her as well, but there's no way I'm stepping into Slash/Dog territory. Too troublesome
DAMN does DxD have a shit ton of fire women.
Also, I don't understand the Tiamat hype in dxd when we don't even specifically know what she looks like. Maybe if it was the Fate variant...
Even though I am typing about how I like all these characters, it doesn't mean they'll be in the harem, if there even is a harem. AT most a soft harem. At the least just mutual favor.
While Jeanne does favor women over men in the fanfic, it isn't like she'll ever take the initiative, no matter what the doujinshis say.