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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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526 Chs

C83

Shirou raised his hand slowly and aimed Caliburn at Artoria. "Come, I'm here, waiting for you. Don't even think about using your Noble Phantasm. You can't hope to defeat me."

"---!!!"

Artoria gripped her sword tightly, her previously cold and indifferent eyes now blazing with anger. She perceived Shirou's words as a challenge, but in reality, he merely wanted to awaken her.

Language, even when spoken from the warmest of hearts, can still tear everything apart. Yet, that was exactly what Shirou desired at that moment. The victory of the battle was not important to him, he sought to clear the path to freedom in her clouded heart. That would be his true victory.

"Ahh ahh ahh ahh ahh--!!!"

As Shirou overpowered her in every way, Artoria could no longer keep her composure. She erupted in a scream, her roar echoing as she hacked at him with a surge of magical energy. Despite the attack, his face remained calm as he watched Artoria charge toward him.

Then...

Instinct C-!

Knight's Strategy C-!

Honor of Suffering C-!

Unyielding Will C-!

Triumphant Return of the Sword C-!

In a blur of motion, Shirou called upon all the close combat skills he had copied and his naked eye sharpened to a laser focus, tracking Artoria's every move with startling clarity. The air around them was filled with the sound of rushing winds as Artoria swung her black sword with incredible force. But Shirou was ready. In a split second, his sword met hers with a fierce strike from the bottom, sending a shower of sparks flying.

Their swords clashed with a deafening ring, the force of the impact shaking the very ground beneath them. With her black sword deflected, he launched a second strike from Caliburn, which she expertly parried with a deft horizontal strike.

"Bang!"

The impact was so heavy that Artoria's hands recoiled and a powerful explosion rippled out, knocking aside nearby swords.

Shirou's body was covered in a layer of protective black armor that connected his nerves and muscles, enhancing his power. With the integration of attack and defense, he was able to change tactics in an instant. This was the true power of the mud, and apart from being slower, it had no significant drawbacks.

Additionally, he had already triggered [Mana Burst C-], and the combined effects of the immense magical energy and black mud, as well as [Counter Hero C-], had left Artoria weakened. It would be strange if she didn't feel the weight of the sword.

Because of Shirou's increased strength, the imitation sword he was using couldn't withstand the force and snapped with a loud "crack". The copied Caliburn was shattered by his immense power.

A good opportunity! Artoria thought as she swung the sword in her hand toward Shirou.

However-

Broken Phantasm!

Shirou triggered the explosion of the broken Caliburn, which sent Artoria flying with its immense release of magical energy. Just as the explosion was about to engulf him, his black armor surged and transformed into a giant black maw that devoured the aftershock of the blast. The armor chewed noisily a few times before returning to its sleek black armor.

He accepted and acknowledged it, which in turn provided him with protection. The integration of attack and defense allowed for rapid and constant transformation.

Shirou projected Caliburn once more and gripped it in his hand. "Although the quality of my sword may be lacking, I still possess a certain level of confidence in terms of quantity,"

Troublesome!

Difficult to handle!

That was the only thought running through her mind.

The projection was indeed trouble, but even more so was the magical energy that loomed larger than her and seemed to be expanding without end. To top it all off, there was that mouth and those eyes that grated on her nerves like nothing else.

"Click, click, click."

Artoria removed her armor. She realized that the heavy defense it provided was useless against Shirou, and so she decided to shed it in exchange for increased speed. She hoped that by doing so, she could catch him off guard and gain the upper hand.

As she charged toward him with a sword in hand, she realized just how unfair Shirou's power was. It was as if he were cheating.

Dark energy pulsed through his armor, and two black hands sprouted from his back - one on the left, and one on the right - each one holding Caliburn.

"You're still facing me, facing your own heart, Artoria," Shirou said calmly.

"Why do you have to destroy my dream!" She cried out. "I know it's fake, I know it's hypocritical, I know it's a reflection of my own weaknesses. But, why must you take it away? It's the only place where I can be vulnerable. Why do you have to take that away from me?"

"Because, Artoria, your actions have already caused problems for others,"

She glared at Shirou.

"This world is not your Britannia, and Fuyuki City is not your Camelot. You cannot be a ghost who remains trapped in the past."

"Why can you say that?" She demanded, her anger rising. "Shut up! Just shut up!"

"The clashing of swords can only bring understanding to those who comprehend each other's hearts," Shirou explained. "If I don't speak my feelings, how can you understand my heart? And if you don't express yours, how can others understand your thoughts and feelings? Isn't the purpose of human speech, of language, to convey each other's sincere hearts?"

"You, you bastard," She stepped back twice. Despite his warm demeanor, she could tell that this person claiming to be a Caster had not changed one bit. He still attacked with his words, just as he had done on their first encounter. On that night, his language had been harsh and malicious, but now it was comforting, like a listener who offered a warm ear to one's troubles by a cozy fire on a cold winter night.

"We all have a past that we don't want to forget, but unfortunately, the past cannot be changed," He spoke with a gentle tone. "If you are burdened with hatred, regret, anger, and feel like no one comprehends or listens, know this - I am here for you. I will listen."

"Silence! You heartless aggressor! I may not be able to defeat you or take your life, but neither can you destroy me. You persistently torment me, seeking to shatter my Camelot, eager to bear witness to the unsightly ruin of my shattered dreams, is that not so?" Artoria's voice was full of defiance. "I say to you, it's not happening. My Camelot, my family, my friends, you won't destroy any of them!"

She lifted the black sword with anger, then with a swift motion, plunged the blade into her own heart with a crisp "shink"

"If I can't kill you, then I'll kill myself! You will not succeed in tearing down my dreams!" she declared.

He asked, "Why did you do this? Have I done something to make you hate me?"

"Yes! I hate it! I hate it completely! Don't show me your hypocritical face anymore!" Artoria's form begins to fade away, and she cries out, "You claimed that the past can't be changed, but what about Camelot? Where is the future of Camelot?"

Shirou approached her, his eyes locking onto her face, which was contorted with anger and hatred. He took her hand, slowly raising it to her chest, and said softly, "Here."

"What do you mean?" She demanded, her eyes narrowing. "What is here besides my flesh?"

"Camelot, your family, your friends... haven't you realized that already? That home you've always wanted to go back to, it's all right here."

She gazed into his bright eyes and suddenly felt a pang in her heart.

"Camelot has never truly left you. Its light still shines in every corner of your heart, residing within you. Even if you can't see them, the people who matter to you will always be by your side." He asked, "Can you hear it? The voice that's been calling to you all this time?"

It was a starry night, and the bonfire blazed brightly.

Tristan, the sentimental knight, strummed his light and cheerful harp, while Lancelot brandished his sword and Lamorak displayed his impressive skills.

Agravain, the secretary, maintained a serious expression as he recorded the casualties, while Bedivere grumbled as he assisted with the work. The knights gathered around the fire, sharing tales of their victories.

Meanwhile, the court magician Merlin was running through the flower meadow, pursued by the irate Kay who brandished a sword after being tricked by him. The knights erupted into laughter at the sight.

Artoria was acting like a regal queen by the bonfire when someone grabbed her ponytail from behind and tripped her, causing everyone to laugh at her loss of dignity. Enraged, she unsheathed her sword and chased after the culprit.

It turned out that... Camelot was still there.

Tears slowly streamed down her face as she whispered, "I... I heard everyone's voices."

Her form disappeared like falling snowflakes.

"The hero who chooses to listen, you are..."

...the first one.

...

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