Ian didn't make that response based on his first impression alone.
As the Black Jeanne's Servant, Atalante had a very noticeable magical energy signature.
It was something that no magus would ever be able to ignore.
And now—
The Servant who was walking unsteadily, dragging her body step by step towards the city, had almost the exact same magical energy signature as Atalante.
The answer was obvious—she was also the Black Jeanne's Servant!
The moment he confirmed this, Ian felt that the situation seemed even more wrong than he had imagined.
Certainly.
The Hundred Years' War between England and France was a period filled with dragons and magic, but even Servants like Atalante, summoned by the Black Jeanne, were by no means people who could be harmed by ordinary means.
After all, with the protection of the mystical side, they were already far beyond the scope of what ordinary people could understand.
Of course, they were definitely not invincible beings.
Even as powerful as they were, there was still the possibility of them being harmed.
For example—
They encountered something as powerful as themselves.
To put it more directly, other Servants.
Ian hadn't forgotten the essence of this Singularity—a Holy Grail War that had arisen for some unknown reason.
Since it was a Holy Grail War, then things like what was happening now could basically be determined to be a conflict between Servants.
This was a specific example that perfectly matched his previous guess.
Understanding this, Ian took a deep breath.
Although being wholeheartedly refreshed by Atalante's Noble Phantasm like this was indeed a very comfortable thing, the man wasn't at the point of being unable to distinguish between what was important and what wasn't.
Don't let your little head control you.
Otherwise, it will become the big head!
He stroked the catgirl's soft hair, and in the gaze she cast up at him after tilting her head, he whispered softly.
"Atalante, right now..." The man clearly explained the current situation to the catgirl before him within thirty seconds.
Although she had wholeheartedly indulged in the pleasure of being trained, Atalante also reacted in an instant.
"Then—" Atalante began, her green eyes wide with concern.
"What should we do now?!" she asked anxiously, her tail twitching nervously.
"Of course, we'll go take a look together," Ian replied without hesitation. "No matter how you think about it... this isn't a normal situation," he stated firmly.
"..." Atalante looked at the rope connected to the collar in the man's hand, and her cheeks instantly flushed red.
She lowered her head and nodded after a long while.
"Hmm... then let's go," she mumbled softly, her green eyes looking down in shame.
"..." Ian thought for a moment before understanding what the catgirl meant by those words—naked as she was, she was willing to be led by him like a pet.
This was a sign that her body and mind had completely submitted to him.
Realizing this, the man smiled, then lowered his head and ruffled her hair.
"Go put on some clothes first," Ian instructed gently, a soft smile on his lips.
"I don't like others seeing my little kitten like this," he added, his gaze unwavering.
Even though the person before her was a Servant just like her, Atalante felt that his words were more like a command than those of her Master, the Black Jeanne.
She wagged her tail and then nodded.
"I understand~" she replied softly, her green eyes looking up at him.
A few minutes later.
Atalante, having returned to her Archer form, and Ian were hurrying through the night streets of Jura.
Like the dozens of cities that had been saved in the past, Jura was deserted late at night, with no one daring to wander around.
The reason was simple.
Everyone was afraid of the Dragon Witch, who killed without batting an eye, fearing that she would find them and burn them alive.
In comparison, it was much safer to hide at home like this.
But what they didn't know was that hiding at home was also a dead end—it was just a little later.
When the Dragon Witch decided to kill, she would never let anyone escape.
But these weren't things that Ian and Atalante should be considering right now.
They only had one thought in their minds at this moment: to get to the side of the seriously injured Servant as quickly as possible.
In the passage from outside the city to inside, the man immediately saw the figure he had just witnessed on the city wall.
She was a mature woman wearing a blood-red robe.
Her discarded mask, which should have been worn on her face, and a rather exquisite scepter lay scattered beside her.
She herself was currently leaning against the wall of the passage, clutching her abdomen, gasping for breath, looking like she was on the verge of death.
Being able to return here was probably a miracle.
"Carmilla?!" Atalante recognized the near-dying woman at a glance.
After greeting her by name, the catgirl probably thought that Ian beside her wouldn't know Carmilla, so she added another sentence.
"Ian... she's also one of Master's Servants, her Class is Assassin."
The man's face remained calm, but he already had many thoughts in his heart.
As expected.
It was exactly as he had guessed.
It seemed that whether or not the magical energy signatures were the same could indeed be used as a basis for judging whether a certain Servant belonged to the same Master.
But speaking of which—
If that was really the case, counting the Caster that the Black Jeanne herself had mentioned earlier, the number of Servants she controlled in this Singularity Holy Grail War had reached at least three.
This was a completely opposite situation to the requirement of "one magus, one Servant" in the Holy Grail War recorded in Ophelia's book.
Perhaps having heard the familiar voice, the woman called Carmilla by Atalante, after gasping for breath for a while, spoke rather weakly:
"It's you..." Carmilla said softly, her voice filled with pain.
"Yes, it's me," the catgirl replied nervously.
Although she never showed it on the surface, whether it was towards Ian or the Carmilla before her,
This catgirl seemed to have been getting along well with them—it was almost like friendship.
Hearing the reply, Carmilla forced a smile, then continued to speak intermittently.
"Atalante... I was careless," Carmilla confessed weakly, her voice filled with regret.
"Could you... please... tell Master... I... was defeated," she requested, her voice barely audible.
"I should... be disappearing soon," Carmilla added, her voice fading.
"Eh?!" Hearing these words, the catgirl immediately realized how the Carmilla before her had ended up in this state—it was the damage left over from the battle!
But she didn't have time to ask any more questions, she just kept comforting the woman before her.
"It's okay! I'll call Master over right now!" Atalante exclaimed, her green eyes wide with worry.
"No need..." Carmilla stopped Atalante. "I know my situation... being able to return here and meet you is already very lucky," she said weakly, a faint smile on her lips.
"Don't say such things!" The thoughtful catgirl was so anxious that she was about to cry.
But—
This couldn't stop Carmilla from dissipating.
She looked at Atalante before her and used all her strength to say her last words.
"Tell Master... the other her is very strong... be careful," Carmilla warned, her voice barely a whisper.
After saying these words, Carmilla's body gradually faded away, finally dissipating like fireflies.
Assassin had confirmed her withdrawal at this moment.
"..." Atalante watched all of this, collapsing onto the ground.
The pleasure she had gained from being trained by the man tonight was swept away, replaced by the pain of witnessing her comrade's death.
The Holy Grail War showed its cruelty to her at this moment without any disguise.
"How could this happen..." The catgirl muttered these words, shaking her head left and right.
Having experienced this kind of thing for the first time, she seemed completely unable to accept it.
And Ian, watching this scene, gently hugged the catgirl.
He felt that he shouldn't be sad about Carmilla's death, but at this moment, he couldn't control his body.
The Holy Grail War... it was indeed a very cruel thing.
Time shifted back to a little earlier.
In a forest about a hundred miles away from the city of Jura.
A group of people, led by Jeanne, were sitting around a lit campfire.
Several fish were roasting in the light yellow flames.
This might have been a relaxing gathering, but at this moment it seemed quite heavy.
Because—
The several girls had witnessed too many cries of sorrow from France along the way.
Cities were burned, and buildings were destroyed.
The land, blackened by the Dragon's wrath, constantly exuded despair, silently singing poems filled with tragedy.
"That other Jeanne is too hateful!" Mordred stomped her foot and exclaimed, "How can she just burn everything wherever she goes?!"
"Even I wasn't that outrageous back then!" Mordred declared, her eyes filled with indignation.
"If this continues, everything here will be burned down by her!" Mordred added, her voice filled with concern.
Mordred's complaint was also the thought of everyone present.
Fujimaru Ritsuka continued, "Indeed... if this continues, everything will be burned clean."
"However—" Fujimaru Ritsuka paused, her brow furrowed in thought.
"Have you guys noticed something?" she asked, her brown eyes looking at the other girls present.
The half-baked Master's gaze swept over the other girls present.
"Although the cities are burned clean... there aren't even any corpses," Fujimaru Ritsuka pointed out, her voice filled with curiosity.
"It's almost as if everyone evacuated beforehand," she added, tilting her head slightly.
"Eh?" Upon hearing Fujimaru Ritsuka's words, Mashu also recalled some things in her memory.
"Ritsuka, speaking of that... we did see a lot of people fleeing along the way, right?" Mashu asked, her violet eyes looking at Fujimaru Ritsuka.
"Could it be—" Mashu began, her brow furrowed in thought.
"They weren't survivors, but people who escaped from the cities beforehand?" she wondered aloud.
"I think that's possible," Fujimaru Ritsuka affirmed Mashu's statement.
"After all, every time we encounter them... we soon encounter a completely burned city, right?" Fujimaru Ritsuka pointed out, her brown eyes looking at Mashu.
"Yeah, that must be it!" the pink-haired girl agreed.
The half-baked Master and the half-baked Servant's back-and-forth relaxed the atmosphere a little.
But Mordred thought of something.
She grabbed the grilled fish from the campfire—it was a fish that Jeanne herself had caught in the river.
She took a bite, then said:
"Then—" Mordred began, her mouth full of fish.
"According to what you guys said, there should be someone secretly helping them, right? Otherwise, how could they possibly run away every time in advance?" she asked, her violet eyes looking at them with curiosity.
"But who would do such a thing?" Mashu wondered aloud, her violet eyes looking around.
"No... I should say who would dare to do such a thing, considering that other Jeanne can control dragons," Mordred corrected herself, her brow furrowed in thought.
"If they continue to organize such a large group of people to escape, she'll be very angry, right?!" Mordred exclaimed, her voice filled with concern.
"..." Mordred's words once again caused the atmosphere to fall into silence.
Gradually, everyone's gaze turned to Jeanne.
After all, all the routes so far originated from the guidance of the Master Command Spell on her hand.
And these routes so perfectly allowed everyone to see the tragic state of things along the way.
No matter how they thought about it, there should be some unexpected information, right?
However—
Jeanne herself had no confidence in her heart at this moment.
She, like them, didn't know where the Command Spell would lead her, she just simply felt that she should believe in this blessing from her dreams.
And the tragic state of things along the way made Jeanne feel even more distressed—the kind-hearted her couldn't stand such things the most.
So facing everyone's gaze, the Saint Maiden couldn't give an accurate response.
And she didn't intend to hide this situation:
"I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure why things have turned out this way," Jeanne confessed, her blue eyes filled with sincerity.
"I also can't control where the Command Spell is guiding us," she added, her voice soft.
Jeanne's attitude was extremely sincere, and the other three were definitely not the type to hold a grudge.
"Then what exactly is going on?" Mordred asked, her violet eyes filled with impatience.
Mordred hated this kind of situation where she couldn't figure out what was going on the most.
"N-no need to be so anxious..." Mashu comforted the hot-headed child in a low voice. "At least so far, no more people have been hurt, right?" she pointed out gently.
Realizing that Mashu wanted to actively improve her relationship with her, Mordred glanced at her and silently munched on the fish.
"Anyway, let's eat well and sleep well first!" Fujimaru Ritsuka cleanly ended the topic.
"Otherwise, if we really encounter a problem but don't have the energy to deal with it, that would be troublesome," she added, her brown eyes looking at them with concern.
The girl's suggestion received unanimous agreement.
This temporary peace lasted until everyone fell asleep late at night.
In her sleep, Jeanne once again heard that mysterious voice.
She suddenly opened her eyes, only to see an unexpected scene.
Before her, a petite loli was using a spear to block a downward strike from a blindfolded woman wielding a staff.
Seeing Jeanne wake up behind her, she greeted her.
"Good evening, Master," the loli said with a cheerful smile.
"I am Elizabeth Báthory—a Servant who has come in accordance with your summoning!" she declared, her red eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Since you're already awake—!" Elizabeth continued, her voice filled with enthusiasm.
"Then I won't be polite in using my Noble Phantasm~" she announced playfully.
In an instant, thousands of birds took flight.
It was a sound that could shake the earth.
Time shifted back to the present.
Ian's mood was a bit complicated at this moment.
He had thought that Carmilla's death would affect Atalante, but he hadn't expected it to be so great.
Even though the other party was just a cat he had tamed for his own convenience.
But looking at her rather devastated appearance, Ian felt somewhat sorry for her.
So—
He didn't leave Atalante's side immediately, but comforted her to sleep like a real boyfriend.
This process wasn't simple.
But considering the many scenes that might attract censorship if put into a novel, Ian decided to bury them deep in his memory and never mention them again.
One wave subsided, another rose.
Just as the man confirmed that Atalante was really asleep and gently pushed open the door to leave, he saw an unexpected figure.
He saw the Black Jeanne with her hands on her hips, looking at Ian coming out of Atalante's room with a face full of resentment.
"You—" The Dragon Witch began, her golden eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"What were you doing in her room?!?!?!" she demanded, her voice filled with anger.