"Are you still holding onto your weapon for what reason? We're still going to fight," said Artoria Alter, with a serious expression, to Remy, as he slung his lance back over his shoulders. "Why else would I? I'll take you both on with my fists. I only used my lance because you've been attacking me from behind, something I'd expect from a king. But not so much from you, at least in the other version, because here you don't seem to care much about that," retorted Remy, provoking a smirk.

"You're quite arrogant, aren't you?" commented Artoria Alter, crossing her arms.

"My so-called arrogance is just the truth. Don't start talking like that saint over there; I don't want to hear that stuff," replied Remy, maintaining his confident posture.

"Step aside, I'll fight him alone, don't interfere in our battle," exclaimed Jeanne Alter, taking a defiant stance in front of Artoria.

"I saved you. Well, if you want, you can fight alone, but don't ask for my help," countered Artoria Alter, stepping back but keeping her gaze fixed.

"I won't lose, you know that very well. So, you clown, we'll fight again, but this time you'll pay for my hair," raged Jeanne Alter, pointing furiously at Remy.

"I find that hard to believe, but go ahead and try," responded Remy, with an ironic expression. The two warriors, ready to start an intense battle, were interrupted by the beginning of an earthquake, which quickly intensified, momentarily halting the impending clash.

Everything began to distort. "The master is moving this village to a different location, right now. I wonder if she noticed?" exclaimed Martha, with evident concern in her voice. "I don't think so. Since she's in control, it must be the kind master. So, I don't think she's doing it because she sensed the battle here," Georgios pondered, offering a more optimistic perspective alongside Martha.

"Then we should leave as well, since we're blessed. Well, it's better to talk to her about the situation in person rather than through telepathy," suggested Martha determinedly. "Yes, I'm sure she'll appreciate the news," added Georgios, showing confidence in the decision. And so, the two began to distort, their forms blending into the surroundings until they disappeared completely, taking the entire village with them.

"They vanished along with the village. Who's controlling all of this? It must be someone with great power, a divine servant?" questioned Artoria Alter, her eyes scanning the space where the village and Georgios and Martha were before they disappeared. Her curiosity and concern intertwined in her words.

"Okay, stop! I don't want to fight," Remy suddenly said, interrupting the building tension in the air. "What now? Are you afraid? I find it hard to believe you've changed personalities like that," fumed Jeanne Alter, giving Remy a furious glare, accusing him of cowardice. Her frustration was evident in her features.

"And the village, it's gone. I've stopped being arrogant. I never thought the village would awaken those feelings of superiority in me..." Remy confessed, his words laden with self-questioning and insecurity, revealing an unexpected vulnerability.

"Screw that! I couldn't care less about that. You pulled out my hair," retorted Jeanne Alter, pointing an accusing finger at Remy. Her anger pulsed visibly through every gesture and tone of voice.

"Technically, you pulled it out yourself, even though I had enough of myself, I didn't plan on pulling out your hair. You did that to yourself, so don't blame me," Remy defended himself, standing firm against the accusation but showing some apprehension.

"If it weren't for you grabbing my hair, do you think I'd be hairless now?" Jeanne Alter taunted, fueling the conflict. Her irony reflected the emotional pain underlying the incident.

"Are you two going to argue about who's right or wrong now? I have to say, he's the one," Artoria Alter commented, raising her voice to inject some rationality into the tense atmosphere. Her gaze fixed on Remy, conveying a certain amount of approval for his behavior.

"What? I know you're not the best person to have around, but I didn't think you were blind," Jeanne Alter exclaimed, expressing her disappointment with Artoria Alter's perspective.

"We don't know where that village went. What an ugly place," Remy said, looking around, where everything was gray and lifeless. His observation denoted dismay at the desolate scenery surrounding them.

"The only thing that hasn't changed is the sky," observed Remy, seeking some consolation as he looked up. His tone of voice conveyed a mixture of sadness and hope in the uncertain situation they found themselves in.

"Don't change the subject. How about we throw you up there?" Jeanne Alter said in a threatening tone, showing that her anger hadn't dissipated yet. Her desire to punish Remy was evident in her words.

"Not a bad idea, but will I pass through the clouds?" pondered Remy, trying to find a humorous solution to disarm the hostility that pervaded the atmosphere. His sarcasm was evident, revealing a more audacious personality than one might expect.

"Are you really agreeing with this reckless saint? I see you're even more brainless than she is," commented Artoria Alter in a biting tone, provoking a reaction from Jeanne Alter. Her intention was to pacify the conflict, even if only temporarily.

Remy looked around, uncertain about the next step to take. "What are we going to do? Are you both going to try to throw me up as high as possible, or should we try to find another place since this one has nothing?" he asked, seeking a solution to the situation they were in.

Jeanne Alter crossed her arms, determined. "I'm not standing around here, let's try to find some other village," she said firmly, showing her will to move forward.

Remy agreed, but worry still lingered in his words: "Let's hope that the village we find doesn't have similar magic to what we were dealing with before," expressing his fear of reliving the same problems.

Artoria Alter then offered a heated clarification: "Don't worry, from what I gathered, the village only affects those who have that particular feeling in their hearts, like yours that made you more arrogant. And yours, reckless Saint, that the other village made you angrier," pointing out her observations with a hint of sarcasm, recalling the previous influences that had affected them in peculiar ways.

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