"Damn it! Where the hell did this flag-bearer come from? Even the imperial guards in the capital don't have this kind of power!" the leader of the thugs roared in fury. They had attempted three charges, yet they couldn't even reach the wall, let alone touch her. Their numbers were dwindling fast.
"You moron, how am I not a flag-bearer?" Jeanne's voice drifted down, cold and mocking. "If I kill every single one of you, the flag stays protected, doesn't it? That makes me the perfect flag-bearer."
"I can't believe a brain-dead idiot like you is in charge. No wonder your men are dying. You should just surrender; maybe I'll be in the mood to burn you to a nice medium-well."
Since switching to her Avenger class, Jeanne hadn't realized how much her personality had shifted. In her "Saint" form, she would never waste breath bantering with the enemy. But now, she felt liberated—and dangerous.
Knowing she couldn't stall forever, Jeanne leaped from the five-meter wall. To the onlookers, it looked like she was simply stepping off a curb. She landed perfectly, the impact barely making a sound.
Before they could recover from the shock, Jeanne charged. The dragon standard in her hand erupted in black flames. Anyone touched by the fire didn't just suffer burns; they collapsed, clutching their heads in agony as the "Fires of Vengeance" seared their very souls.
Suddenly, jagged iron stakes manifested in the air, skewering those who tried to flee. It was the most horrific sight these men had ever seen. The serrated, barbed spikes ensured that even trying to pull them out would cause unbearable pain.
The mine had become a living hell for the guards. Jeanne, waving the flaming banner, was the Witch of Retribution, demanding their lives as payment for a blood debt. Panic set in, but the main gate was blocked by a wall of black fire. No one was leaving alive.
Within minutes, the plaza was silent. The "cleansing" was complete. Jeanne looked toward the center of the mine. "What a pain. Why can't the owner just walk out here so I can finish this? Now I have to go find him. I hope Talulah and the others are having better luck."
Meanwhile, Talulah and Alina reached the camp. The area was eerily silent, the only sound being the wind whistling through the cracks in the dilapidated buildings.
Talulah peered through a hole in a wall. Inside, hundreds of people were huddled together like frightened quail to stay warm. A single, rusted stove sat in the center, surrounded by shivering children. The beds and blankets were tattered rags that looked decades old.
A single searchlight hung over the barracks entrance. As they watched, several thugs ran up to the guards, whispering urgently. The leader and the toughest-looking fighters immediately sprinted away toward the main gate.
"Looks like Jeanne's distraction is working," Talulah whispered. "I just don't know if they're going to protect their boss or try to stop her."
The two girls moved in, silently neutralizing the remaining sentries. Even the gentle Alina held her crossbow steady; the cruelty they had seen today left no room for hesitation.
Talulah sliced through the heavy chains on the barracks door with a single blow. As the doors swung open, she saw hundreds of villagers staring back with eyes full of pure terror. They scrambled backward, pushing the children to the rear as if distance alone could protect them from the newcomers.
"It's okay! We're here to rescue you!" Talulah said, her voice full of sincerity. "The guards are distracted. We can get you out of here right now!"
But her words didn't move them. Instead, a villager trembled and whispered, "Please... just leave. We won't run. We swear, none of us want to leave the mine. Just leave us alone..."
Talulah and Alina were stunned. The villagers had been so thoroughly broken that they feared the "rescue" more than their captors.
Before they could argue, heavy footsteps approached from behind. A thug ran toward them, shouting, "Boss, stop playing around! The owner says someone is trying to free these wastes, you need to—wait, who are you?!"
Talulah didn't hesitate. A blast of intense heat surged from her hand. The messenger didn't even have time to scream before he was reduced to a charred husk, the force of the blast making the entire barracks tremble.