Territorial Sovereignty
The next morning, after cleaning up the mess and finally collecting her thoughts, Jeanne found herself in a state of pure bewilderment.
Even granting that her body had changed, she had still hammered several men to death, turned an enemy commander into her sex slave, and gone at him five times in a single night.
Was this really the behavior of a person with any sanity left?
Target's mentality has been adjusted to secure narrative plausibility.
A notification window floated up in front of her. So now it was even doing mental manipulation?
Nothing so drastic. I merely loosened the restraints a little.
Beside her lay Jean II de Luxembourg-Ligny, drained to the last drop the night before, curled on his side.
In the middle of the act she had snapped, Ah, fuck, that name is filthy long. Fine—from today on you're Alex, got it? Alex? And so the former Jean II de… whatever had become Alex, and was now sleeping, wrecked with exhaustion.
"Hey. Enough sleeping. Get up."
"Ugh… G-good morning, Master…"
It was the first morning after their agreement that he would serve as something like an attendant during the day and be treated with a measure of respect.
Sunlight spilled across Alex's cheek and made that fierce profile stand out all the sharper.
"As a wake-up present, how about one more round?"
"Pffft— M-Master… if you could show a little mercy…"
Whether it was the system's influence or the residual shock, the moment he heard her words Alex spat out the water he had been drinking and flushed scarlet.
When she stroked his hair, his cheeks burned even redder and he bowed his head deep.
"Aaah—man, my life really is something…"
"…? What do you mean, Master?"
"Nothing. Just thinking out loud."
She called up the status window under her breath so Alex wouldn't hear. The familiar translucent blue pane bloomed before her eyes.
Name:Joan of Arc
Status:Witch of Domrémy, Crazy Woman, Head-Crusher
⚡ Strength:30
🧠 Intelligence:24
❤ Health:9
✨ Charm:98
📖 Wisdom:22
🎯 Dexterity:23
You go to the trouble of giving me a skill and then seal it…
A trigger is required.
The message window popped up the instant the doubt formed. At this point, wouldn't it be easier if the damn thing just told her what to do—do this, catch that guy, go here? Tch.
I only provide assistance.
Fine, fine—I get it. So show me something. I just captured a heavyweight who makes the first one look like a joke. You're not seriously going to wave a useless sealed passive in my face and call it even, are you?
Are you ready? YES or NO
For the first time a message came with actual buttons. And when it did, she was the kind of human woman who slammed YES without a second thought.
She drove her fist into the YES floating in the air.
Beside her, the man formerly known as Jean-with-the-endless-name—now Alex—stared at her in confusion, but she had no time to care about that.
"Hnnngh—ahhhngh—"
Agony ripped through her entire body as a fierce, unidentifiable power flooded every limb and filled her to bursting.
Body is being developed to match the reward.
She had no room left to read the message in front of her. Her vision blurred, and she collapsed where she stood.
When she opened her eyes, what she felt under her head was not straw or the barn floor, but something faintly soft.
"Alex?"
"You've awakened, Master."
"I half expected you to kill me and run."
"I've come too far for that, Master."
He had apparently gathered the straw back into a makeshift bed in one corner of the barn, and she was lying with her head pillowed on Alex's thigh.
"How long was I out?"
"About two hours."
She deliberately rolled so she was looking straight toward his crotch; he flushed again in flustered haste.
"That… the name Alex…"
"I know it's an alias, Count of Ligny. But the full name is way too long. Like your cock."
She flicked the half-hard length with a fingertip; it stiffened hard in an instant.
"Th-then please just call me Ligny…"
"Puppy?"
"L-Ligny… I beg you."
When she casually stroked him through the clothes, Ligny's face turned a shade of red that put the earlier blushes to shame, and he twisted his head away.
In the status window floating before her eyes, the name Alex was erased and the submission rate climbed another five percent.
Up above, every displayed stat had risen—every one except Health, which stubbornly refused to move.
The soldiers she had seen yesterday had averaged around twenty… She was already past the human scale.
Her head felt clear—maybe that was the Wisdom and Intelligence climbing. Simply thinking about it, the future timeline of this world, the plans and direction, and exactly who she needed to fuck where in order to swallow the whole of France, began to arrange themselves in her mind with crystalline order.
"Alright. Ligny. Tell me now. Why were you looking for me?"
"Looking for… Master?"
"You said it yourself. That you were searching for Jeanne of Domrémy."
"What do you—h-huh, wait—"
"By your own words, you should be able to answer like this."
Ligny's mind was already half-shattered; the remaining half was starting to crumble too.
"How was the princess's pussy?"
Ligny began to mutter, half-gone: Master… Jeanne? The Princess of Orléans and… me…?
"Snap out of it."
She gave his still-vague cheek a light slap.
Crack—
"Jean II de Luxembourg-Ligny."
"I-I'm sorry, Master… But…"
"Ah-ah. Every time you trail off, you get another one."
"Master… is your name… Jeanne?"
"That's right. I'm Joan of Arc of Domrémy."
In that instant a message window flared again, and Ligny's submission rate filled straight to 100%.
Jean de Luxembourg-Ligny — Submission Complete
📍 Status: Attributed as first territory
"I greet the true master of Orléans, the Saintess."
Ligny rose, then dropped to one knee again and bowed his head in formal greeting.
A ticklish sensation climbed through her whole body once more—pure pleasure this time, free of pain.
"Saintess… please, forgive me…"
He crawled forward on his belly and pressed his lips to her feet; a light pulse of pleasure sank into her. She hesitated for a heartbeat, but the conclusion had already been decided.
"Ligny."
"Yes… Sain—Master…"
Reading her eyes, the title snapped back into place.
"Take it out."
"…? Take what out…?"
"Your cock. Out."
Ligny rose. The waist-cord of his trousers had snapped the night before and been re-tied several times; he slowly lowered them and turned his face away.
Shame rushed back in, and the flush that had begun to fade painted his cheeks red all over again.
Leaning against a barn post, she grabbed him by the collar and hauled him in.
"Fuck me."
"Th-the… Princess is no commoner—she is of noble blood… please… hngh—"
She shoved her hips forward and forced the erect length inside him; Ligny let out a delicate cry like a boy doing it for the first time.
"Haa… Too noisy. Just start thrusting already, puppy. Nnh—"
"Hngh… M-Master… please…"
"If you want another slap, go ahead and keep stalling."
He flinched, body trembling, then began a slow piston motion. The gentle knocking against her lower belly and the pleasure that followed gradually set her body alight.
"I'll ask… hnn… one more time… haah… so how did the princess's pussy feel… nnh—"
"I-it felt…"
"What was that? Keep mumbling like that and…"
"Hic— Ah… nothing… it felt… good…"
She put bounce into her hips and steadily increased the pace until her whole body was slick with sweat from the summer heat and the pleasure cooking her from within.
Fssht—fssht—
"Good… hnn…"
Any memory of reluctance had long since vanished.
Slap—slap— While the regular rhythm echoed, both of their bodies grew hotter and hotter, until Ligny finally reached his peak.
"M-Master… I'm going to cum… hnnngh—"
Ligny convulsed as he spent himself inside Jeanne; she shoved him down onto the floor, sat him there, and lowered her head.
"Slurp—suck—suck—mmph—"
"Hnnngh— M-Master… right now it's too… hnnngh—"
Only after Ligny came two more times did Jeanne finally stop sucking.
After a while spent savoring the afterglow, the two of them had to start thinking about what came next. Jeanne spoke first.
"So the princess's pussy… we already covered that. Now tell me properly. Who am I?"
"You are the daughter of His Grace Louis I, Duke of Orléans, and Her Majesty Isabeau, Queen Consort of King Charles VI of France. However."
"They wouldn't even acknowledge me as a bastard, so they dumped me somewhere in the countryside?"
"…That is correct…"
It diverged a little from original history, but that hardly mattered.
To survive in this world, she would have to uncover and exploit every necessary means available.
"I get the picture. The current situation."
"…?"
"The legitimate sons are all trash. One of them is rotting as a prisoner in England."
"…To speak of Lord Charles so…"
"The other one's been dead for years—he's a skeleton by now."
"Master… please… Lord Philippe was a good man…"
"A good dead man. And the last one… also a prisoner right now? Damn, the situation's a bloodbath. Gahahaha—"
Ligny stared at her, baffled by how swiftly she was piecing everything together.
"But… isn't it strange that I, a Burgundian, was searching for Master?"
"You're a blackmail card, aren't you?"
"Y-you've already… read that far…"
Spread the rumor that a bastard was aiming for the throne of the current King of France, Charles VII; paint Queen Isabeau as an adulterous whore who birthed bastards. Then, by the logic that a whore once is a whore twice, claim Charles VII himself was a bastard. And go one step further—use it as the living foundation to argue that the entire Armagnac faction had been a rootless mess from the start. That was her.
"Ligny."
"Yes…?"
"By the way. What was the name Alex from, then?"
"It was… the name of the dog we kept at home…"