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Fate: I Heard After Death, You Can Ascend to the Throne of Heroes?

Promise transmigrated to the TYPE-MOON world and became one of the students of Waver Velvet at the Clock Tower. But a dream must eventually come to an end. Upon waking from a night's sleep, he recalled his identity as a transmigrator and also discovered his golden finger. A Heroic Spirit Class Card. It can take Promise to different eras, and by leaving behind corresponding legends, he can ultimately ascend to the Throne of Heroes! He thus travelled to ancient Greek mythology and Norse mythology. Promise: "I heard after death, you can ascend to the Throne of Heroes. What are you waiting for, come on, kill me!" (PS: This book is not a traditional simulator story; its content mainly revolves around the Age of Gods, hence the Age of Gods is a long narrative! I didn't use TYPE-MOON in the title as it was already too large) __________ Yup, this is a translation, coz why not? The credit goes to the original author, "It's Just Fate /Fate is just a book." Chinese name: 缘分而已 著 / 游戏竞技 And so, if the original author is reading this and wants me to remove it, then please leave a review below. Link: https://trxs.cc/tongren/8889.html Original: https://www.hbooker.com/chapter-list/100389372?arr_reverse=1 https://wap.ciweimao.com/book/100389372 ......... For advance chapters join my Patreon .. patreon.com/abhi28

Abhii_28 · Anime & Comics
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215 Chs

No Way, I Don’t Want to Be a Loser!

The divine bulls roared and raged as they were put back to work, their flaming bodies overturning the earth. 

Jason's screams echoed in the background, while the others—somehow finding the scene amusing as they followed behind to watch the fun, collecting the unearthed dragon teeth—. 

"Somehow, everything always turns into chaos when you're around," Atalanta, the beautiful huntress in her green attire, said as she approached Promise, bathing in moonlight.

"That's not true…" Promise instinctively wanted to refute when... 

"When you came down the mountain, you defeated those bandits and made them sing your name a hundred times before letting them go. When you used your lyre to hunt the sacred stag during Goddess Artemis's trial. When you removed the stakes during my race to make me lose." 

Atalanta's light words blocked all the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

Looking into the other party's beautiful blue eyes and listening to these words, Promise was stunned to find that he seemed to have done a lot of messy things without realizing it.

Worse yet, all these events were destined to be recorded and celebrated… 

Wait. Wouldn't that make them *black marks* in his legacy?! 

As the belated realization struck him, Atalanta spoke again, in a soft and steady voice. 

"So, you'll leave soon, won't you? To fulfill the prophecy given to you by the gods." 

Surprised, Promise looked at her as the huntress smiled faintly, illuminated by the moonlight. 

"How long do you think we have known each other?" she asked gently. "What's more, you've always been like this." 

"…Fine, you saw through it." Promise sighed, his eyes darting as he tried to think of an explanation. 

"No need to explain," Atalanta said, seeing right through him. "In fact, we've always known this moment would come. All we can do is send you off from here." 

She paused before continuing, "Because this is an offering to the god of war, Ares. So it is basically inevitable that you'll have to present a glorious battle to that god. 

"But that's not what I wanted to ask." 

When Promise heard this, he subconsciously looked at Atalanta and found that she was staring at him with expectation and some uneasiness in her eyes.

"Promise… Did we… Did we help you?" 

Because they had understood everything, because they knew all that Promise had done, they had gathered here tonight. 

To help him, even if it seemed reckless. 

But in fact, from their perspective, this young man had been just as reckless all along. 

Promise froze, stunned for a moment, looking at the girl in front of him who looked very beautiful under the moonlight tonight.

After a brief moment of reflection, he smiled and nodded. 

"Well... of course," he said softly. "I actually think Helen and Teacher Chiron were right. In a sense, I really am a troublesome person. 

"Even though it's always been obvious, I didn't really feel it until today that none of this was fake. When I look back… you've all truly been there by my side." 

Thinking in this way, 

'When we meet again in some distant place, I will no longer have the idea of avoiding you. Instead, I'll come to you with joy and anticipation.' 

He remembered once asking Chiron a question: 

'If, in the distant future, they encountered a version of Promise that seemed different from the one they knew now... when they finally saw him, in that distant future, would they still accept him? 

Now, Promise already knew the answer. 

Atalanta smiled, her expression this time pure and radiant. 

However, raising the celestial bow in her hand, she looked at Promise and softly said, "Promise, let's pray together to the pure and beautiful goddess Artemis." 

A petition arrow—an arrow carrying a prayer to the god one serves—was loosed toward the heavens. 

When fired by a true believer, the gods often responded to such calls… 

Although the situation right now was a little awkward. 

Apollo, the god of light, glared at his sister Artemis, the goddess of the moon, terrified that she might shoot her most loyal follower on the spot in a fit of annoyance.

At the same time, he glanced helplessly at Promise, who had stepped beside Atalanta and joined her in drawing the celestial bow and releasing the arrow. 

'Atalanta, you have also learned bad things!'

'This isn't a prayer at all; you're clearly showing off to your goddess!' 

Apollo sighed in exhaustion, lamenting his lot in life. 

His own love life had never worked out, and his beloved Daphne still remained a laurel tree to this day. 

Thinking of this, Apollo couldn't help but want to take out his lyre and play a tragic tune for himself. 

But his grumbles were cut short as the arrow vanished into the moon, and a rain of purifying light began to fall, clearing away everything here and bringing about the final end.

With that, the second test was over.

---

Though the second trial was over, there was no time for celebration as Jason collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath, his legs trembling. 

Glancing at the blazing bulls held down by Heracles, Actaeon, and Meleager, his face turned pale as he screeched in a high-pitched voice, "Hold them down—*please* hold them down! 

"Otherwise, Promise won't have to kill me because I'll already be dead!"

Heracles laughed as he held the furious bull in place, turning to Jason with curiosity. "By the way, Jason, what did you do to make them so angry?" 

Hearing this, Jason opened his mouth to explain but froze as the bull roared and glared daggers at him. 

The sheer malice in its gaze made Jason flinch, and he quickly coughed, avoiding eye contact as he changed the subject. 

"Anyway, where's Promise? Where did that guy run off to?"

Jason puffed up his chest, thinking about his earlier sacrifices. 

Surely, this time, he could finally hold his head high in front of Promise. 

"See? You were right all along about what you said to Queen Hera! 

I, Jason, am a true hero!

"He left," Medea, who had appeared beside him at some point, spoke in a soft voice. 

Medea's sudden voice frightened Jason so much that he screamed, and then, to everyone's bemusement, hid behind the bull's butt.

No, you dare to hide behind my butt!

The bull stared at him in confusion for a moment before its expression shifted to pure fury. 

Then, with a resounding kick, it sent Jason flying into the sky. 

The group exchanged glances, shrugged, and unanimously decided to ignore Jason's existence. 

"He left? Where did he go?" Theseus asked instinctively. 

However, Medea said nothing but merely pointed toward the stars in the sky. 

Then, with an increasingly resentful glare, she turned toward Atalanta, who stood quietly nearby. 

This was Colchis, the homeland of Medea.

In other words, her domain, her turf.

Yet here she was, watching Atalanta steal the spotlight. 

'Could it be… does the "loser" attribute run in the family?'

Medea couldn't help but think of her aunt, who was probably still kneeling in Hecate's temple, obediently accepting her teacher's punishment. 

'No! I refuse to end up like that!'

.

.

.

"Promise is gone, isn't he?" 

Meanwhile, among the gods, Apollo instinctively nodded at the question, only to freeze as Artemis rolled up her sleeves. 

"Wait, wait, Artemis, what are you doing?!" Apollo panicked, rushing to stop his sister. 

"Let me go, Apollo!" Artemis fumed, trying to shake him off. "I need to find Atalanta! I need to have a good talk with her—I'm her goddess, after all!"

'Give it a rest.'

Hearing Artemis's words, Athena, observing from a distance, couldn't help but roll her eyes. 

'That follower of yours? Sure, she used to deeply respect and revere you in the beginning.

But let's face it: that pedestal you were on? It's long gone.'

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