"Jeanne d'Arc, is there something else on your mind?"
"I'm just thinking…" Jeanne stood with her hands folded behind her back, her head lowered as she nudged the floor with the toe of her boot. "Has Master been pushing himself too hard lately?"
"You're worried about me?" Shen He looked up from the bed, patting the space beside him with a light chuckle.
"Of course I'm worried," Jeanne answered, cheeks tinged pink as she sat down beside him. Her tone turned soft and serious. "Master was just a regular person before all of this… Suddenly you're burdened with responsibilities, alliances, wars, otherworldly politics… even gods. It's exhausting."
"I'm not that fragile," Shen He replied with a small laugh, shaking his head.
"But I saw you earlier," she said with a tilt of her head, a slightly suspicious look in her eyes. "You looked like you passed out the moment you closed your eyes."
"That's just because Violet gives amazing massages," Shen He shrugged. "And tonight's operations were intense. I just relaxed for a moment and drifted off."
"Is that really all it was?" Jeanne asked, her brow raised in disbelief.
"Absolutely," Shen He nodded emphatically. "Her hands are soft, and she's mastered pressure points perfectly. Probably watched a few technique videos and practiced just enough to become incredible at it."
Truthfully, Shen He had forced himself to sit back up moments later, worried he might actually fall asleep from sheer exhaustion.
"So then…" Jeanne looked down again, her voice softer. "That means all the talk about… lap pillows and such was just a joke?"
"…Jeanne," Shen He blinked, suddenly realizing, "you didn't stay here tonight just because you took that seriously, did you?"
Her shoulders sank with embarrassment as a blush lit her cheeks. The shy expression, the way her eyes avoided his—it was so endearing that Shen He couldn't help but burst into laughter. Jeanne immediately turned her face to the side in mock irritation, cheeks puffed out like a child.
"Alright, alright—sorry," Shen He quickly said, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes. "Jeanne, if you came because you truly wanted to help me rest, then I'll honor that kindness."
He reached out and gently tapped her thigh, still wrapped in smooth, dark stockings, then lay down sideways and rested his head on her lap.
Jeanne stiffened at first, surprised by the sudden closeness. But when she saw the fatigue in his eyes, her hands slowly reached out—placing one on his shoulder and the other gently against the side of his head.
This isn't romance, she told herself. This is just a retainer easing the burden of her Master.
The room fell into silence.
Shen He had intended this only as a lighthearted moment. A quick laugh. But as he lay there, he didn't feel the urge to get up. Not because of the comfort of her thighs or the delicate scent lingering in the air… but because of the unexpected warmth blossoming in his chest.
If this were back in the real world, he would've snapped a picture and posted it online as a show-off moment.
Then his phone would blow up with texts from friends, family, relatives—some jealous, some interrogating, some teasing. It would've been chaos.
But here, Jeanne wasn't a girlfriend. She wasn't a lover. She was a heroic spirit who respected him—who stayed with him out of loyalty, kindness, and shared ideals. That was the truth Shen He understood clearly.
And yet…
"Hey, Jeanne," Shen He said softly, tilting his head just enough to glance up.
But all he could see was darkness—her silhouette eclipsing his view.
"Master?" Jeanne looked down, her long braid swaying forward over her shoulder, brushing lightly against Shen He's ear.
The ticklish sensation made him flinch internally, but he dared not move. Any reaction might be misunderstood.
"What are your thoughts?" Shen He asked. "You're no longer bound to the Holy Grail War. You're not acting as a Ruler-class Servant. You don't even need to return to the Throne of Heroes. As strange as it sounds, you're… reborn. You can stay in this world indefinitely. What do you want to do with that?"
Servants, after all, are summoned from the Throne of Heroes to act as familiars in the Holy Grail War. Though they retain the pride and memories of their original selves, they are still ephemeral—shadows, called forth temporarily to serve a purpose.
But something about this summoning system… this Chaldean connection… was different. Jeanne was no projection. She existed physically, tangibly—completely.
"Rebirth…" Jeanne murmured, her expression distant. "It's hard to process. A Heroic Spirit is just an echo. A memory of something once human. We're not supposed to live among people. Our presence in the world is brief. Fleeting."
She paused.
"But… humans. They fascinate me. Always have. You're free. Even flawed or wicked people have potential. They can change. Choose different paths. Create futures. We, Heroic Spirits… we can't."
But now—maybe she could.
"Then search for that freedom," Shen He said, his voice gentle. "Not as a saint, or a servant, but just as Jeanne—a girl from the countryside. You only lived until nineteen, right? That's too short. This world has so many things to enjoy. Things you never got to try."
Among the heroes Shen He had met, Jeanne was a rare type. A saint, yet so human. Approachable, kindhearted. Sometimes, in conversation, he'd forget she was a legendary figure of history.
And he definitely had no hesitation teasing her.
"Is… is that really alright?" Jeanne asked, a hint of wonder in her eyes. She wasn't sure whether she was being tempted by the idea or still in disbelief.
"Absolutely," Shen He said, sitting upright with a grin. "Didn't I say we're heading out tomorrow for some fun? You better get ready to be surprised. This era's got more entertainment than you can imagine."
"…Thank you, Master."
Jeanne's smile was bright and genuine as she reached out, clasping his hand in both of hers.
"I came here hoping I could do something for you, and instead… you've given me something again. I'm really lucky to have met you."
It was a line she had said once before—back when she was first summoned.
But now, the words carried a new weight. A depth of meaning that made Shen He stare a little too long at her face.
She really wasn't human.
That golden hair, glowing faintly like sunlight; her porcelain skin, impossibly smooth; and those eyes—a shade of lavender so pure they almost sparkled. She was beyond ordinary.
Too beautiful to be real.
And yet, she was sitting right here with him. Smiling, uncertain, full of hope.
Maybe this world wasn't so bad after all.