𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍│[M!Reader x Highschool DxD - Jeanne D'arc/ Jalter]

Prologue 1: [Blades, Angels, and Fangs]

[Y/N] - Your Name
[L/N] - Last Name
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["Talking"]
["Thinking"]
["Whispering"]
Actions
I

"It'll take a while", I said. My hype, however, had other plans. So fuck me, I guess we're doing this already. At least I won't be the only one suffering from hype... I hope.

A few points to make about this Fanfiction is that it will follow the Light Novel, therefore, some things may change. 

I will also be using other works like mangas, animes and games in this fanfiction. In which they include, but are not limited to, Record of Ragnarok, Skyrim and Vampire: The Masquerade. I will focus on plot, and the only love interests will be Jeanne D'Arc and Jalter from the Fate Series.

If you have any complaints about that then by all means speak up, I'm more than willing to talk about it. If you have any suggestions / ideas /opinions, I'm open to hearing them, too.

Might I add that one of the many reasons why I'm so hyped to this is because I get to make use of the fact that I have a degree in history?

In any case, let's roll!

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Night.

Something as feared as it is loved. Something that brings as much comfort as it brings fear. The period in which the moon parades beautifully and proudly on the skies, and, in many cases, dances around with various forms and shapes, like a noble feasting on its many parties. Many fear the night for countless reasons, just as many love them for equally incalculable motives.

There is, however, beings who love the night, beings who praise the darkness. Children of the night, the kindred. Beings who, ever since their first one, Cain, hid in the darkness of alleyways, sewers and alike, concealing their presence. Beings feared by many, beings that had no weaknesses, and lived in clans among themselves.

However, as much as the Night is feared to this day, the night ages ago had much more dangers. A man walked through the night with heavy and quick footsteps. Although he didn't run, his legs moved back and forth in perfect rhythm, allowing this young man with half-closed eyes to quickly walk. He took a deep breath, which came out as shaky and trembling.

The man in question is John, the Duke of Burgundy, a historical territory and a former administrative region of east-central France.

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The Duke made his way around the streets, and he could feel that, with each step, his fear became larger and larger. His shaky breath became cold, and he felt the chill creep up his spine almost like a centipede walking through his bones. A man of nobility like himself should never wander such areas of the peasants, even less, wearing such ridiculous clothing.

But he had no choice.

John had made a deal with a being of higher strength. A being so much more powerful than he could ever hope to be. A being so strong and so fearsome that could make an entire kingdom tremble before his sight. Just like the man himself, his residence was something that would make even the bravest soldier tremble.