The vision God gave her made her victorious, she was covered in blood, standing on piles of bones, and the soldiers chanted "Joan of Arc" as if she were God himself.
However, the illusion is just an illusion after all, just like the God who has never been seen, it is just an illusion. Joan of Arc failed to save anyone, not even herself.
In the prison, the man in the black cloak questioned her, why did God choose you, Joan of Arc, why do you say that God chose you?
Because of the long sword that fell from the sky when I was playing in the wilderness as a child, because of the loud bell ringing when I woke up, because of the illusion that helped me succeed.
The long sword that fell from the sky may have been discarded by a passing soldier, or it might have been left in battle, or it might have been picked up by a dog. The bell might have come from a nearby church. The vision is just a coincidence of insanity. When you see only the part you want to believe, you believe it is the whole thing.
Is that right? Am I over-hearted? It turned out that there was nothing. I only saw what I wanted to see. Jeanne began to doubt herself.
If God chose you to save France, why are you here? Why didn't your God come to save you? Are you not his faithful people?
Joan of Arc could not doubt God, that was all her support, she did not allow herself to doubt. When she came home with the long sword, there were flames everywhere, and her sister died tragically to save her. She watched this scene in the dark cabinet, watching her dead sister being insulted. In one day, she lost everything and was burdened with The deep guilt is too heavy for a child. Then God came and put her burden in his hands, your life is not for you, your life is for France, France will be saved by you.
God has become her all support, so she cannot doubt, doubt is betrayal.
Of course, the man in the black cloak would not give up. He appeared anywhere, anytime, and questioned her.
Joan covered her ears, called him a devil, and dodged like a madman. It was a pointless struggle.
The devil was born in her heart, and the question was her question of herself. There is no black robe man at all.
When I was young, I regarded chance as redemption, and let God be the support of life.
Life no longer belongs to me, so it has nothing to do with me. That's why I can be so heroic, surpassing thousands of men, almost crazy, not my own, so I don't need to cherish it anymore.
It is so easy to surrender yourself to God.
She no longer has the courage or ability to take on all this again. Doubt is equivalent to erasing her existence for all these years.
At the stake, the bishop put before her the document acknowledging the absence of divine guidance, and she turned her head away.
Why are you so stubborn, the last time the man in black robe appeared, you can live if you sign the document, or die if you don't.
Joan of Arc looked at the large crowd under the stage, the people she vowed to protect, called her a witch, and waited to see her burn to death. Not a word. The executioner lit the torch.
After her death, people called her Joan of Arc, the French heroine.
For such her, death might not be the best destination.
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