Existence in Paradoxical Changes

Chapter Six - The Unwritten History: Jared the Bully

As the dust of battle settled over the field and adrenaline coursed through their veins, the atmosphere shifted, thick with tension. It had been a day filled with chaos and unexpected victories, but events were about to take an unforeseen turn that none could anticipate.

With arms akimbo and a loud, indignant snort, Jeanne D'Arc strode into the fray, her shimmering armor shining brilliantly under the waning sunlight. "What's all this ruckus?" Her voice held authority and annoyance, slicing through the confusion like a blade. "You there! Why are you making trouble, barking orders at these men? I just cleared this place of filth, and now you think to stir it up again?"

Jared was momentarily stunned. She was undeniably cute, her cheeks puffed up like a displeased squirrel, the tension of the battlefield sharpening her features. The beautiful autumn backdrop framed her perfectly, the fiery hues contrasting with her metallic attire. With a playful attitude surfacing, he replied in a tone reminiscent of a Shakespearean play, "Fair maid of valor, I mean not to offend, for thy fierce spirit commands my respect. With sword in hand, let me serve thy noble cause and bring order back to this troubled fray. Speak, and I shall follow thy wise command, for in thy strength, I find my own resolve."

Taken aback by his unexpected theatrics, Jeanne tilted her head, a glimmer of bemusement dancing in her eyes. "En garde!" she declared, unsheathing her sword with unexpected flair. "Unsheathe thy sword and show it to me!"

Jared's heart raced as he summoned the courage to face Jeanne. He drew his Jian sword, a blade that looked gorgeous with its intricate engravings and polished surface glinting in the light. Yet, as he swung it slightly, he realized just how lightweight and flimsy it felt in his grip. This sword may look magnificent, but I doubt it can hold up in serious combat, he thought, unease bubbling just beneath his bravado.

Adopting the stance of a seasoned sword cultivator from his favorite Xianxia novels, he forced confidence into his posture. "Look at you, trying to look cool. If you harm her, you're finished!"

His mind raced with adrenaline, and despite the absurdity of the situation, he felt an unexpected rush of exhilaration.

As he watched Jeanne brandish her sword—a crude weapon that he knew was unlikely to withstand a strong blow—doubt crept in. "What am I doing?" he thought as he reconsidered the challenge. This was more than a simple duel; history hung in the balance, and the weapon in her hand felt doomed to fail, as stories had foretold. Panic flared as he turned inward, seeking guidance. What should I do now?

"Didn't I inject you with a serum that makes you smart and tough?" the voice in his head retorted, dripping with sarcasm. "Is that brain of yours just for decoration? Use it!"

With a newfound sense of determination, Jared unsheathed his Jian, feeling its weight and balance settle comfortably in his grasp. This was no ordinary blade; it was a symbol of his aspirations, a sword that he had grown to respect. But just as he prepared himself, he couldn't stop the ridicule echoing in his thoughts.

As their swords clashed, Jared swung his Jian with precision, aiming for a decisive strike. To his shock, the moment they connected, Jeanne's sword snapped like dry kindling under the force of his blow, creating a sharp crack that echoed across the battlefield. The shock reverberated through the crowd, whose gasps filled the air as they watched in disbelief.

Jeanne's expression shifted from fierce determination to sheer bewilderment as her weapon shattered, the metal fragments scattering like dreams dashed upon the rocks. Time seemed to freeze; all eyes were on her, silently processing the gravity of what had just happened. Her shoulders drooped, and tears welled in her eyes, brimming with an overwhelming tide of emotion.