...
Twenty-five years have passed, and Joan has undergone many changes, such as her armor that never left her side, which has now transformed into a standard military uniform without protective power. Her hair has whitened considerably, and several distinct wrinkles have appeared on her forehead.
But many things remain unchanged.
For instance, her eyes filled with faith, and her respect for Chen Xuan.
All the soldiers have left; the spacious room now only contains Chen Xuan, the other three, and Joan.
The latter personally arranged several chairs for them to sit down, then brewed fresh black tea with hot water from a thermal jug and handed it to them.
"Am I bothering you?" Chen Xuan asked, somewhat embarrassed.
It was clear that she was still a core figure in the French Army, albeit likely no longer needing to personally lead charges.
