Joan of Arc had given up on screaming holy text and graduated right into a sort of guttural noise that sounded like dogs at the gate of hell. She turned to look at him and swept her arm, sending fire bolts across the city street in an attempt to hit him before rushing forward again and furiously swung her giant sword. The street around them was on fire. Sirens called in the distance and tires screeched to a stop as cars got close enough to see the brawl.
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