Erica

The Host smiled as she sensed the favor of an audience. “No surprise here, you’ve been the favorite of the audience since the start. Erica your pure heart, and selfless drive has earned you your wish.”

The young woman look up in shock. Joan’s attack had purified her soul, but had done nothing for her mind. The war still raged on her face. It was fitting considering her guardian. Joan of Arc was a pure soul, but there had never been a more pathetic creature than the one led to that pyre. “At the start of all of this me winning felt so obvious. Now I can’t even believe anyone would pick me…”

Joan tilted her chin and gave her a warm smile. “You just thought it would be easy.” She gently brushed a hair from Erica’s face. “I knew you could win, I knew it. I could have killed Satan at any point, but I didn’t because I believed you would win, and save the world.”

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on a girl.”

Joan nodded. “Oui, now become a diamond.”