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Fate: I Will Eventually Become the Hero of Justice

What would you do If you were suddenly transported to the Nasuverse just before the Fourth Holy Grail War as a young Shirou with no access to a Magic Crest, Magecraft, or OP Servant? ... Note: This fanfic translation features transmigration, where the protagonist is thrown into the body of Shirou, rather than reincarnation.

DaoistOneTouch · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
519 Chs

C17

Shirou whispered the name to himself and ignited the magic hidden within the swords.

"Craaack,"

Gradually, the swords, projected from Shirou's being, shattered within the sea of bugs. Then, with a resounding "Boom," an explosion akin to thunder rent the air, with sparks blossoming like summer fireworks in the sky.

"Foolish, foolish, foolish," Matou Zouken called out as he stood in the midst of a sea of bugs that protected him from the explosion and flames. "How could something like this hurt this old man?"

Although the seventeen swords projected by the explosive magecraft were like the centers of fireworks, their flames and explosions did little to harm Zouken. However, the intense flash of the explosion was another matter. It was challenging for anyone to keep their eyes open, but for Matou Zouken, who had lived for centuries and had a body that had reached its limits, causing him to become highly sensitive to light, the flash was especially dazzling.

"When this light fades," Zouken thought, "I will definitely kill you!"

As the intense light subsided, Zouken looked around, expecting to find his attacker taking advantage of the situation. However, to his surprise, there was no one there. The field was completely empty.

Zouken wondered, "Did he run away? What was the point of releasing such a strong light if he wasn't going to use it to attack me?"

Despite feeling confused, Zouken reminded himself that the entire Matou family was under his control. He knew that if the person who had caused the explosion was still in the family, the bugs spread throughout the mansion would reveal his location. There was no way for him to escape.

...

Shirou knew that the key to victory was not brute strength, but achieving his goal. He wasn't fighting Matou Zouken to see if he could use the strength of the servant to defeat him.

So he used the most disgraceful tactics in modern warfare. The intense light and noise created by the explosion of seventeen projected swords briefly blind and deafen Matou Zouken, causing him to lose his sense of balance and direction. As a result, Matou Zouken, whose vision and hearing was sealed by "Broken Phantasm," could only use magecraft to explore and locate his position.

(p.s. Broken Phantasm - If a Noble Phantasm is packed with magical energy, it can be made to explode after striking its target. It is nearly impossible to repair a destroyed Noble Phantasm, and since they are the trump cards of Heroic Spirits, they are unlikely to take such measures. Emiya is an exception, as he can reproduce as many copies of Noble Phantasms as his magical energy will allow due to Tracing, allowing him to also counterbalance the fact that all of his projections are lowered by one rank.)

Therefore, Shirou used his own magecraft to create dozens of swords filled with as much magical energy as he could currently muster and scattered them around. Using these dozens of swords as a net to confuse Zouken, he rushed into the Matou mansion like an arrow.

If Emiya Kiritsugu was a magician killer specialized in modern weapons, then Shirou was a demi-servant who applied modern warfare concepts to battle.

The only concern was whether Matou Zouken had a means of detecting him directly, without relying on vision. Shirou didn't know the mysteries of magi, which he couldn't understand. All he could do was do his best.

Breaking into the Matou mansion, Shirou rushed around, opening doors and searching for Sakura's whereabouts, but he found nothing. However, he did find the young Matou Shinji in a room.

Shirou projected a sharp sword and held it to Matou Shinji's neck, threatening him in a dangerous tone. "Tell me, where is the girl who was adopted by the Matou family?"

"Don't kill me, don't kill me... sob sob sob... Dad, Dad!" Matou Shinji, who was only six years old, was extremely frightened and tears streamed down his face.

Shinji had originally been wondering what gift he should give to the girl who would start living with them and become his younger sister, showing his older brother's dignity, but the next moment someone broke into the room and held a knife to his neck.

"Tell me quickly!" Shirou urged impatiently, the sword in his hand approaching Matou Shinji's skin. He had no time to waste with Shinji, as the old worm was likely to pursue him at any moment.

Feeling the cold of the sword on his neck, Matou Shinji was extremely frightened and cried out, "I don't know, I don't know... sob sob sob sob sob, Dad! Dad!"

Shirou was getting anxious, and at that moment, a high-pitched cry sounded out.

"Don't come! Don't come--!"

Sakura's voice!

Shirou left Shinji behind and ran toward the source of the sound. As he ran, he heard the sound of chaotic footsteps and a moment later, the panicked face of Matou Byakuya appeared before him, rushing towards Shinji's room.

Although Byakuya was a useless man, he naturally came to his young son's aid upon hearing his cries. However, upon seeing Shirou, Byakuya's face showed confusion.

"What are you--" he started to say, but the word had not yet left his mouth when Shirou punched him in the stomach.

Shirou's attention was immediately drawn to the desperate cry that echoed through the halls, and he disregarded Byakuya as he sprinted toward the source. The entrance to the staircase loomed before him, a dark and foreboding maw that exuded a corrupt, damp smell and was alive with the sound of writhing, crawling things.

Shirou's eyes narrowed as he realized that Tokiomi had only just left and Matou Zouken had already begun to make his move. Clenching his fists in anger, he merged with his Saint Graph, his speed increasing as he charged toward the source of the disturbance with even greater urgency.

...

It hurts...

It hurts so much...

Feeling the black, wriggling, strange creatures with their sharp, knife-like mandibles piercing her skin and trying to burrow into her, Sakura was extremely frightened. Tears streamed down her face as she cried out and frantically tried to pull the worms out and throw them far away.

But it was no use.

There were too many of these strange creatures in this place, too many.

After experiencing the betrayal of her own parents, the young girl had been thrown into a hellish lair of worms. The man who was supposed to be her father had locked her up in this place at the behest of the old man who was supposed to be her grandfather.

As he listened to her cries, the man couldn't help but laugh at her struggles.

The more she cried out, the harder he laughed, enjoying her misery.

Tears streamed down her face as she cried, her sobs wracking her body.

She tried to cry out for her parents, "Mom and Dad," but then she remembered - "You are no longer a child of the Tohsaka family."

She had been abandoned by her family.

Her strict yet loving father, her gentle mother, and even her sister who had always loved her were all gone from her world.

So-

Is there anyone...

"Is there anyone who can come and save me?"

She cried and cried out in despair, waiting and hoping for a hero to arrive and rescue her.

But-

All she could hear besides her own cries were nothing.

The real world does not bend to her expectations or hopes, and those who place their faith in the false promises of illusion will inevitably be betrayed by their own delusions.

Those who ignore the harsh realities of life will ultimately be defeated by it.

So-

"Give me your hand!"

In the pitch-black, damp underground worm room, a familiar but urgent voice echoed through the darkness.

"Swish, swish."

The wormhole churned like a turbulent sea, trying to swallow everything in its path. But a sharp sword cut through the air, unleashing a brilliant display of fireworks with "Broken Phantasm," lighting up the indescribable darkness of the abyss.

Light has come.

A shadowy figure, swathed in a billowing black cloak, appeared on the stairs, reaching out towards her with a beckoning hand. The voice that called to her was familiar, filled with a sense of urgency and concern: "What are you spacing out for? Hurry up and give me your hand! You foolish, little sister!"