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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 et bandes dessinées
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523 Chs

C262

Ravenna found itself encircled on all sides.

From every direction, hordes of people converged upon the city, their numbers seemingly endless, resembling an unyielding ocean. Meanwhile, Ravenna appeared as a small, fragile boat amidst the vast expanse of the sea, its occupants restless, aware of the imminent threat of being overwhelmed and crushed by the relentless waves.

Amidst the multitude of forces, one name stood out as the largest and most formidable: Attila, whose dominion stretched far and wide. However, in terms of sheer strength, none could surpass Shirou.

Shirou commanded an army composed primarily of individuals from the Age of Gods, their prowess unmatched by any others. Each individual surpassed their peers in terms of skill and ability. Furthermore, they were equipped with the legendary Gáe Bolg and Holy Sword Galatine, adding an aura of awe to their already magnificent military might. Their presence alone seemed to shake the very heavens and assert their dominance over the earth.

The sight of Shirou's awe-inspiring military might left the kings of the continent trembling in fear, their heads bowed in submission before him.

Even the seasoned generals of the Hun Empire, upon witnessing the sheer power of the Camelot's army, were overwhelmed. Their faces turned solemn, drenched in a cold sweat, with only Attila managing to maintain a composed expression amidst the tension.

In light of these remarkable circumstances, Shirou naturally emerged as the leader of the alliance army.

As the unquestionable powerhouse among them, Shirou took the initiative in forming the alliance, skillfully persuading the kings to join forces under his leadership. His position as the strongest among them earned him the utmost respect he rightfully deserved.

With an iron grip on the reins of command, Shirou orchestrated and coordinated the collective strength of the alliance, channeling it towards a singular objective. Under his guidance, the combined forces swiftly and efficiently encircled Ravenna in a little over a month's time, demonstrating the remarkable efficiency of the alliance army's strategic maneuvers.

The Western Roman Empire had reached the brink of collapse, its once-mighty presence reduced to mere fragments.

Apart from the capital city, Ravenna, only a few cities remained, barely holding on.

Regrettably, these isolated cities found themselves squarely in Attila's sights. The inevitable outcome loomed before them—ravaging, destruction, and ultimate conquest were all but certain.

This lack of sentiment was hardly surprising, considering her sole fixation on the annihilation and devastation of civilization. All other concerns paled in insignificance compared to her relentless pursuit.

Such was the essence of Attila, the Wandering Star of Predation.

However, despite her indifference towards most matters, Attila had directed her attention towards a specific individual within the Camelot Dynasty.

That person was none other than Artoria, the wielder of the legendary Sword of Promised Victory.

Whenever Artoria crossed paths with Attila, the latter would tilt her head upward, her crimson eyes fixed upon Artoria with an unmistakable intensity, brimming with a sinister desire for destruction and brutality.

In contrast, Artoria would meet her gaze with a solemn and unwavering expression, akin to a resolute lion protecting its territory, unyielding in the face of imminent danger.

The military preparations were well underway, with magical cannons designed for siege warfare soaring through the skies. Bizarre alchemical contraptions unleashed chaos on the battlefield.

Yet, despite these formidable advancements, the spells meticulously inscribed upon the robust walls of Ravenna effortlessly repelled every assault.

The blood moon loomed high in the sky, casting its haunting crimson hue that draped the entire land in an otherworldly glow.

The once vibrant green fields now lay concealed beneath a thick blanket of bloodstains, as if the entire world had descended into a realm ruled by the blood moon. The crimson color dominated the landscape, giving it an extraordinary and enigmatic allure.

With solemn grace, Shirou firmly embedded the holy lance Rhongomyniad into the ground. Suddenly, a resplendent tower of light burst forth from the earth, radiating a luminosity reminiscent of ancient brilliance. Within the dense atmosphere saturated with the essence of blood, this radiant beacon illuminated the land with its majestic and awe-inspiring glow, sparkling magnificently.

The war raged on, and from the fields near Ravenna emerged grotesque ghouls, their repulsive forms crawling towards the soldiers, driven by an insatiable hunger for flesh.

Agents of the Holy Church, strategically scattered throughout the armies, swiftly drew their black keys and brandished their exorcism tools, engaging in fierce combat against these abominable creatures.

Yet, the horde of ghouls seemed inexhaustible, their numbers overwhelming. With the overseer within Ravenna orchestrating their onslaught, they tore through the defensive lines of the Church's agents, breaching the defenses of the various armies and descending upon them with ruthless savagery.

Despite the daunting numbers of ghouls, the armies assembled by the kings surpassed them in size and strength.

While ghouls were truly terrifying to ordinary people, the soldiers of this fifth century era, living amidst a world teeming with monstrous beings, possessed exceptional mental resilience. Armed with formidable weapons, they stood resolute against the onslaught of ghouls, swiftly dispatching them with their skilled combat techniques.

And this was merely a glimpse into the might of the other kings' armies.

When Shirou's army approached, Gawain took charge, wielding Galatine horizontally. The radiant power of the sun instantly obliterated all the ghouls in its path!

In that moment, the daunting challenge of facing superior numbers had long ceased to exist.

Shirou led an army of a hundred thousand elite troops, each one possessing exceptional skill and expertise.

Among them were numerous warriors wielding holy swords, adding to their already formidable ranks.

Their military might was truly overwhelming, striking fear into the hearts of their friends and enemies.

However, Ravenna, empowered by the crimson moon, proved to be a formidable opponent.

Even Shirou's radiant tower of light, a symbol of his power, failed to penetrate her defenses.

The pivotal element in the equation was the presence of a formidable dead apostle commander within Ravenna's ranks.

Even though their defeat was inevitable, their dying counterattacks posed a significant threat.

Dead Apostles held no tangible riches to plunder, which meant the war would inevitably drain the nation's resources. As a leader, it was only natural to employ every available strategy to maximize gains and minimize casualties.

This was the burden of responsibility that fell upon a leader's shoulders.

Being the leader of the alliance army, Shirou understood the importance of exerting every ounce of his effort in this endeavor.

Indeed, it was crucial to exercise caution in preserving their own strength while confronting the threat of the crimson moon. However, Shirou recognized the need to strategically undermine the power of Attila and the other forces in secret. Of utmost importance was dealing a significant blow to Attila, preferably while simultaneously defeating the crimson moon, with the ultimate goal being her demise.

In this way, when Morgan inherited the throne, Camelot would not face a formidable opponent.