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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 · Cómic
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523 Chs

C312

"Hmph. Mongrel, there's no need for you to be overly concerned right now. As the one slumbering in Avalon, let the people of this era manage their own affairs."

"I am not dead yet, so I am still a person of this era."

Gilgamesh sneered, "If that's the case, why don't you just patiently wait for that old man who plays with jewels to give you information? You lost, little lamb."

Shirou raised an eyebrow and shot back, "Oh, the golden dog with a belly full of worms has something to say, huh? Give you an inch and you'll take a mile, won't you, King?"

Gilgamesh sneered and jeered, "And you, this clown with a mouth full of filth, it's truly amusing to witness the downfall of your pathetic dynasty."

Hearing this, Merlin's heart skipped a beat. His face paled, his body drenched in a cold sweat, and his legs shook uncontrollably. Gasping for air, he struggled to catch his breath.

Shirou sneered mockingly, "The rise and fall of empires is just part of the natural cycle of history. It's what drives progress. Did you honestly expect me, the Eternal King, to lament the past and throw childish tantrums over the demise of a kingdom? I'm not some pitiful slug with its eyes glued to a trail of snot."

Gilgamesh let out a hearty laugh, "You're truly audacious to show such disrespect towards me. It's enough to warrant being killed a thousand times over. However, I'll let it slide. Eternal King, continue relying on your Clairvoyance. Whether it's the resurgence of the Age of Gods or the impending doom of the future, I can't help but eagerly await the sight of your once-beautiful face contorted with despair and tears streaming down from the wreckage. Even your mourning tears, I can only imagine, would be exquisite delicacies worth savoring—a treasure of immeasurable rarity."

"Tsk! You're just as repulsive and revolting as always, King of Heroes," Shirou scoffed. "But it's a pity. There are countless things this king is capable of, but shedding tears isn't one of them."

In that moment, King Solomon unexpectedly asked, "Is this what humans refer to as 'friends'?"

"Friends?" Shirou sneered. "Solomon, have you lost your mind? Throughout history, from ancient times until now, there has been only one person who could tolerate the presence of this detestable scum. His only friend was Enkidu."

Gilgamesh declared with certainty, "Indeed! Whether it be in the realms of heaven or on the grounds of earth, in times long gone or in the years to come, Enkidu remains my only friend."

"You certainly have no qualms admitting your scumminess, King of Heroes."

"Only a mongrel like you would spew such disgusting words. What I acknowledge is that Enkidu is my only friend, plain and simple. The one thing this king could never possess as a treasure is a brain, and unfortunately, you seem to lack one as well, Eternal King!"

Solomon asked again, "So, what about you two?"

"Solomon, you wouldn't understand." Shirou replied.

King Solomon fell silent.

"I still want to meet you in person, Eternal King," Solomon finally confessed.

"Maybe we'll cross paths someday."

...

As Shirou left the Clairvoyance Chat Group, he couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed. However, while the conversation didn't yield any significant breakthroughs, there was at least one crucial piece of information that he obtained.

It became evident that something significant was bound to happen in 2004.

However, given that the Holy Grail had already been destroyed, theoretically speaking, there shouldn't be any immediate concern regarding the annihilation of humanity.

So, was the underlying issue still centered around the revival of the Age of Gods?

Shirou found himself in a helpless position when it came to interferences stemming from parallel worlds. All he could do was restrain his anxious heart and patiently await news from Zelretch.

After playfully teasing Scathach for a while, he finally decided to leave the dream and get some much-needed rest.

As he looked out the window, the full moon adorned the night sky, its radiance casting a tranquil glow.

The moonlight, clear and gentle, illuminated the room, revealing a spattering of distant stars.

A chilly beam of moonlight seeped through the thin curtains, delicately tracing silvery patterns on his face.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

Faint footsteps echoed outside the door, catching his attention. He sat up, turning slightly, his eyes fixed on the entrance.

There, leaning against the doorway, stood Arcueid, adorned in a flowing white gown, her captivating crimson eyes locked onto him.

The moonlight cascaded over her delicate and enchanting features, enveloping her in an ethereal aura, as if she had emerged from a dream.

"Is there something you need, Arcueid?"

An elegant smile graced her lips as she responded, "Well, indeed there is, Shirou." With a graceful stride, she closed the distance between them. Extending her slender finger, she gently brushed it against his face, leaving a lingering sensation.

As she began to utter the word "Yu--," an unexpected turn of events unfolded. Without warning, Shirou's hand shot out, gripping her neck tightly, causing her face to twist in pain. A mixture of shock and disbelief clouded her eyes.

In a stark contrast to her anguish, his expression remained eerily calm. With swift and deliberate movements, he projected Caliburn into his other hand, its presence gleaming ominously. In one swift motion, he drove the blade directly into her abdomen, impaling her and pinning her against the wall next to her.

The room fell silent, save for the unsettling sound of flesh meeting steel—a sickening "splut--" that echoed in the air.

A crimson spray of blood erupted from her mouth, staining his cheek. Her abdomen, impaled by the merciless blade, became a vivid canvas of gruesome red.

She asked, "How did you figure it out this time?"

He responded calmly, "Well, if it had been that idiot, she would have charged straight at me instead of coming towards me slowly like you did, Crimson Moon."

"I must say, you really do impress me, living up to the title of the King of Men who orchestrated and laid my physical form to rest over 1,500 years ago," Crimson Moon praised, genuinely impressed. "Well, I have to admit, this time it's another failure on my part. But don't get too comfortable, because next time, luck won't be on your side. You have been chosen by me. You're destined to be one of my kin. Remember, King of Men, or should I say, Fujimaru Shirou, you will become one of us..."

Gradually, the blood that was previously on Shirou's face and Caliburn also vanished along with Crimson Moon. It disappeared completely, as if it never existed in the first place. It was as if the blood was just an illusion or a figment of his imagination, much like the entire encounter with Crimson Moon.

Only Shirou stood still in place.

"The third time..." He sighed deeply, feeling a slight headache forming as he rubbed his temples.

Whether it was a result of absorbing too much of Arcueid's vampiric impulse or feasting on numerous Dead Apostles during his time in Camelot, it had led to Crimson Moon's will becoming imprinted within his "Vampiric Evil."

In fact, this had started happening six months ago, when the phantom of Crimson Moon began appearing before him, tempting him to give in to the alluring embrace of vampirism.

Of course, it was just Crimson Moon's will interfering with the "Vampiric Evil," causing occasional illusions that carried the essence of Crimson Moon's desires, attempting to steer him off course.

However, Crimson Moon's schemes had yet to succeed, much to his disappointment.

That's why Shirou found comfort in sleep—he used it as a means to combat the "Vampiric Evil" and resist Crimson Moon's will.

To make matters worse, this morning, as Shirou held Rhongomyniad, he sensed that the holy lance was on the brink of breaking free from its constraints because of him. It seemed eager to erode him, merging his being with nature itself.

That was precisely why he had entrusted Rhongomyniad to Gray. Gaia hadn't given up on its desire to unite him with nature.

Shirou let out a heavy sigh.

Despite the pressing matter of preventing the revival of the Age of Gods, he found himself burdened with a heap of personal issues.

Couldn't he catch a break and enjoy a peaceful and carefree life, even for once?