Carmilla slowly emerged from the sea of blood that seemed to embrace her, as if it were a natural extension of her own dark essence. Her body was covered in the scarlet substance, dripping from her pale and immaculate skin. Her yellow eyes gleamed with a sadistic glint as she approached Jeanne Alter, whose persistent silence seemed to challenge the provocations Carmilla was about to unleash.

A twisted smile danced on Carmilla's lips, her voice dripping like a venomous whisper. "Oh, Jeanne, how enchanting it is to witness your noble and haughty stance in the face of your own weaknesses. An eloquent silence, I must admit. But tell me, my dear, have you forgotten why you came here? The flame of vengeance that once burned in your heart, is it now just a smoldering ember?"

Jeanne Alter remained still, her eyes fixed on Carmilla, the disdain almost palpable in her expression. Carmilla's voice, however, seemed to pierce through the warrior's resistance.

"Have you forgotten the pain, Jeanne Alter? The pain of being betrayed by those you swore to aid, betrayed by the very circumstances that shaped your existence? You've contented yourself with playing in the shadows, but they will never truly satisfy you. Shadows are treacherous, ephemeral, much like the illusion that you could ever defy destiny."

Carmilla drew closer, her fingers dripping with blood as she touched Jeanne Alter's face with an almost icy touch. "You're a rebel without a cause, a mere flame that burns for a moment but inevitably fades away. Darkness will always prevail, Jeanne Alter, and deep down, you know it."

Jeanne Alter finally broke her silence, her voice carrying restrained fury. "Don't delude yourself, Carmilla. My quest for vengeance hasn't waned, but I won't fall for your rhetorical traps. Your arrogance and thirst for blood are your weaknesses, not mine. You're nothing more than a creature trapped in your own darkness, unable to comprehend the true strength that comes from inner light."

Carmilla's smile widened, a cruel laughter escaping her lips. "Ah, Jeanne Alter, how adorably stubborn you are. Inner light, you say? Do you truly believe a mere spark can illuminate the vast darkness of the world? Let me teach you a lesson, then. You may hide behind your words, but I will show you the futility of your resistance."

Carmilla aggressively lunged forward, her sharp claws cutting through the air as they sought their target. Jeanne Alter moved gracefully and swiftly, skillfully evading the direct assaults. Each movement was a dangerous dance, a duel between shadows and the flame that burned within the warrior's heart.

"You dodge well, Jeanne," Carmilla taunted, her yellow eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction. "But your agility cannot save you from memories, from the scars you carry. The heat of your justice is no match for the cruel burn of the betrayal you've endured."

As they continued to clash, Carmilla persisted in throwing her cruel words like poisoned knives. "You fought so valiantly, didn't you? Always striving to protect those you love, but what remains? A France consumed by fire, a land scorched by the flames of war. And for what? To see your efforts shattered and reduced to ashes?"

Jeanne Alter heard Carmilla's cruel words with a growing anger. Her expression hardened, and her hands gripped the handle of her flag with intensity. The flames in her eyes burned more intensely, reflecting the indomitable strength of her will.

"No, Carmilla, I haven't forgotten," she snarled with a fierceness that made the air around her vibrate. "And I won't let you underestimate my determination. My vengeance will burn like a hellfire, consuming everything in its path, including you."

Carmilla laughed provocatively, brushing off Jeanne Alter's words as if they were mere zephyrs. "Ah, how thrilling it is to hear your empty threats, Jeanne Alter. Your bravery is touching, but it's just a final flicker before the inevitable extinguishing of your light."

Jeanne Alter's voice turned cutting, her patience wearing thin in the face of Carmilla's relentless taunts. "Don't think your manipulative words will affect me, Carmilla. The only thing burning will be your own remorse when you finally realize you underestimated the strength of my determination."

Carmilla took a step forward, her yellow eyes glinting with malice. "Ah, you're so stubborn, Jeanne Alter. And do you truly believe your fury can change anything? Your hope is pathetic, like a small insect struggling against the tide. But let's remember together, you and I, the time when your glorious plans fell apart."

Carmilla's words struck Jeanne Alter like a punch to the gut. The air seemed to grow thicker around her, and her stance wavered for a moment. "Do not dare mention Orleans," she snarled, her voice laden with anger and pain.

Carmilla smirked sardonically. "Oh, but I must, my dear. You were so convinced, so confident in your illusions of grandeur. But in the end, what remained? A resounding failure, France saved and you, a fallen martyr, unable to fulfill your empty desires."

The fury within Jeanne Alter grew, becoming an uncontrollable force that consumed her. Her eyes blazed with an almost supernatural intensity, and her voice thundered. "You don't understand, Carmilla. The pain, the betrayal, they only fueled the flame of my determination. My vengeance will be your downfall, and I will make every drop of spilled blood an eternal reminder of your defeat."

Carmilla laughed, a cold, cutting sound. "Come then, Jeanne Alter. Show me this greatness you proclaim. Let your vengeance become your own undoing. But remember, when darkness finally prevails, I'll be there to welcome you with open arms."

Carmilla released a chilling laugh upon hearing Jeanne Alter's defiant words. "Ah, Jeanne, what courage you possess. Do you truly believe you can challenge the darkness that envelops me? Very well, my dear, your wish shall be granted."

As Carmilla spoke, a bloody aura began to envelop her, distorting her form and blood. She raised her arms, and the sea of blood around her seemed to dance in response to her command. Her appearance gradually changed, her features softening, her pale skin glowing with an otherworldly radiance. Her once sinister figure now exuded an ethereal beauty, as if the blood itself had transformed her into a creature of dreams.

Jeanne Alter, eyes filled with fury and disdain, did not hesitate. She raised her flag high and proclaimed the name of her Noble Phantasm, her voice echoing with an intensity that cut through the air. "La Grondement Du Haine!"

An explosion of flames engulfed Jeanne Alter, her body transforming into an imposing and majestic figure. Wings of fire extended from her back, and she surged forward with surprising speed toward Carmilla. The air seemed to vibrate with the energy of vengeance pulsating within her.

Carmilla's eyes narrowed as she observed Jeanne Alter approaching, a mixture of admiration and disdain in her transformed gaze. "You launch into the attack with such fury, Jeanne. But the beauty of your wrath only accentuates the contrast with your previous failure."

Jeanne Alter ignored Carmilla's words, focusing entirely on her objective. She swung her flag with impressive skill, creating waves of flames that clashed against the darkness surrounding Carmilla. The battle that unfolded was a dangerous dance, with flames and blood colliding in a spectacle of strength and determination.

Carmilla, now surrounded by a dazzling aura, skillfully defended against Jeanne Alter's attacks. She moved with a seductive grace, her fluid movements evading the fiery onslaught of her adversary.

While the intense battle between Jeanne Alter and Carmilla raged on, Artoria Alter remained oblivious to it all, engrossed in the task that now held her rapt attention. She sat at the table, surrounded by an array of delicious pastries, her mouth moving frenetically as she devoured them one after another. Each bite was an explosion of flavor, an almost transcendental sensation that filled the void within her.

She couldn't help but wonder how something as simple as pastries could bring such satisfaction. With each bite, she felt as if she were filling a deep hole in her soul, a sense of fullness that left her craving for more. The flavor was like a drug, enveloping her in a feeling of ecstasy and contentment.

However, even as her stomach began to feel full, Artoria Alter's desire didn't wane. On the contrary, it seemed to grow with each bite, fueling her craving for more of that irresistible delicacy. She could feel frustration building within her, a mix of insatiable desire and uncertainty about how to satisfy it completely.

But then, like a ray of hope, the realization that there were still more pastries to devour crossed her mind. Her face lit up with renewed animation, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. She didn't need to worry about emptiness or frustration, because more pastries awaited her. The prospect of continuing her quest for satiety filled her with joy, temporarily banishing any other concerns from her mind.

With renewed determination, Artoria Alter continued to devour the pastries, one after another, her expression of delight growing with each bite. She was determined to make the most of this experience, to dive deeply into the pleasure that the pastries provided. The void within her was being filled, not just by the taste of the pastries, but by the excitement of knowing there was more, that the quest for satisfaction was not yet over.

And so, as the epic battle raged on around her, Artoria Alter surrendered herself fully to her indulgence, finding a momentary escape in her insatiable quest for pastries. Each bite was a small victory, an achievement over the sense of emptiness that had plagued her. And as long as the pastries continued to fill her table, she was determined to carry on her journey of pleasure and satisfaction, even if only for a brief moment.

As Artoria Alter continued to devour the pastries with relentless determination, her appetite seemed insatiable. She moved from table to table, her eyes gleaming with anticipation at each new dish she found. Each bite was followed by a sigh of pleasure, and her face was lit up with a nearly childlike joy. The relentless pursuit of the pastries consumed her completely, temporarily pushing aside any other concerns or thoughts from her mind.

However, as the pastries dwindled, the emptiness began to return. A sense of dissatisfaction started to creep in, and Artoria Alter couldn't help but feel that something was missing, despite her ongoing indulgence. It was at this moment that a voice resonated through the air, carrying a penetrating authority and a touch of arrogance.

"Look at this child trapped in her eating frenzy," proclaimed the voice, echoing through the room. "An insatiable desire, a hole that can never be completely filled. Sad, isn't it?"