My Heroic Life

She looked at Joan with a surprised look and said, "So, how about attacking tonight?"

Chapter 45—Plans After Marriage

"Huhahahaha! A group of weak chickens! The mouth area..."

Roland stepped on the wine barrel and bent down for a while and retched. Thanks to the etheric clone, all the wine he drank was burned clean by the magic flame, and only the dizziness caused by the magic wine was left. Otherwise, it would be a shame. Up.

Fortunately, Roland shook his head, avoiding rainbow vomiting. It has to be said that the magic wine that Drake bought for a big price to intoxicate the apostle heroes is indeed of high quality. It is obviously that the effect of beer is better than the vodka outside.

He looked at the sailors who had fallen to the ground, revealing the expressions of [Dugu Defeat], [You were playing in the mud when I was drinking] and other exclusive drunkard expressions, and muttered self-expression.

"Oh, why did it fall because of a big tone? Young people nowadays, they never let me drink before, so it's rare to have fun..."

The old general shook the wine glass in his hand and felt the concentration of magic around him.

"The more magic wine you drink, the less magic power you have? It's a waste of anyone who steamed the wine with magic flames."

Roland looked at Jason, who was sitting on the ground dangling like a pendulum. He knew that there was nothing to ask. He looked around. There were not many people standing in the cabin, Joan and Drake. They were huddled together as if they were talking, but judging from the barrels that were half empty in front of the two, they also drank a lot.

"That's it! It's over!"

After a while, Drake took the lead to stand up and announce the end of the banquet. She looked at the drunks all over the floor and shouted to the people who were still sober: "Drag them all back, and you will be drunk tomorrow!"

"Received, big sister."

The sober sailors smirked and pulled people down the sailor’s cabin like a dead dog. After finishing the arrangement, Drake turned his head and said to Roland: “Before, only Joan of Arc can live in the captain’s room. I can go to the second floor room."

She patted the back of Joan next to her and said, "The first room on the second floor, go."

"Wait, wait, just one?"

The blond saint asked some flustered questions, but Drake answered with a smile.

"Of course, my boat is not so spacious as to give the guardian spirit a room alone, haha, come on!"

Joan wanted to say something, but Drake had already pushed him in front of Roland. Roland, who was a little drunk, couldn't react to it. He put down his glass and said goodbye to Drake, and walked towards the second floor first.

Joan wanted to say something but didn't have time, and finally followed Drake's instigation.

The slight swaying made her a little bit distressed. The girl followed the young man into the room and saw Roland lift a chair with her back to the bed, sitting on it and saying, "It's fine with me. You can sleep on the bed."

"No, Lan just needs to rest."

"My body is ether, you are the flesh."

Roland smiled helplessly, and Joan no longer insisted upon hearing this, but walked to the bed and sat down.

"Let's do that for today, and we will talk about the specific situation tomorrow."

Roland said as he got up and was about to turn off the lights, only to find that the fluctuations of Joan's magic power were a bit disordered. He observed carefully and found that the blond saint seemed to be afraid of something.

"Huh? What are you?"

"Hey? No, nothing."

Joan realized that she was fidgeting and was noticed by Roland. She hurriedly denied that while removing her armor, then fell sideways on the bed, looking weakly at Roland in front of the lamp.

At this moment, the man suddenly had an illusion. It seemed that lying on the bed in front was not the Valkyrie who had a face to light the cannon and shot the big ghost with a single shot, but the newlywed wife who was gentle and virtuous and her husband returned from the reception together.

Roland was in a daze for a moment under the influence of the alcohol. After a while, he stammered and asked, "You, are you afraid of the dark?"

"No."

Joan shook his head. Roland looked at the surrounding environment and suddenly said, "Could it be that it is claustrophobia?"

"...No, but I do have some fear of closed mobile tools."

"Hey?"

"If you can't see the front, you can't find any danger. It's a bit scary."

"That's it."

Roland finally remembered under Joan's reminder that the blonde girl did have this small flaw. She was a strange girl who dared to stand on a plane but was afraid of flying.

However, this was unexpectedly cute in Roland's eyes. After all, Joan was a girl who didn't show much fear at the moment when the Mistletoe Gun was about to kill her. She was usually a serious Spartan chairman. Such a pitiful look is really...

"What do you need me to do?"

"No need... can you speak with me?"

For a moment, Jeanne wanted to refuse Roland's help, but suddenly remembered Drake's words in her mind. In a wonderful state of mind that she could not figure out, she made a more willful request through the rare opportunity of Jiujin.

"it is good."

Roland moved the chair to the bed, sat on it and looked at Joan of Arc lying on his side. The girl's face was a little red under the dim light.

"I thought you would preach to me about drinking when you came back."

"Originally, but I drank a lot this time, so I didn't stand to teach you."

"Really strict."

Roland smiled helplessly, and Joan was silent for a moment before suddenly saying:

"Lan, am I, it's hard to get close."

"Huh? Why do you say that?"

"Without the gentleness of an ordinary girl, I am obviously imperfect, but I always like to preach to others. At the banquet of the trial court, I couldn't talk about feminine topics at all. I could only come to the window to blow the cold wind... .."

Under the influence of alcohol, Joan began to utter his troubles in a rare way. Roland looked at her in a little surprised. He had never thought that this almost perfect saint would judge him like this.

After all, in the eyes of everyone, Joan of Arc has never lost the name of a saint. Unlike Marda, who is completely opposite on the surface and inside, she is almost the same, and she is notoriously strict with herself, so Roland preached. Almost powerless to resist.

Joan's performance at today's banquet was also perfect, allowing Roland to realize her other side, serious but not rigid, gregarious and focused on unity. Even Drake, who has always hated the righteous, did not hate her.

Isn't this a kind woman who is soft on the outside and hard on the inside, who can go to the hall and the kitchen to help her inside?

"I like Joan."

Roland, who was also deeply affected by alcohol, couldn’t listen to Joan’s self-depreciation. He raised his chin and said in a daze. The next moment, the saint’s words came to an abrupt end, and her complexion began to flush rapidly, and her lips Tremblingly asked:

"Lan, you, you, you just said..."

"I like Joan."

"Hey?"