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Fate: My Servant is Tom

Elric, 18 years old, appeared to be a time traveler. After being hit by a truck, he found himself transported to another world, along with a panel that could summon servants. Before he could even begin to celebrate, he realized something unsettling: he had somehow ended up in the Fate universe. With a hollow smile, Elric muttered to himself, "If I commit suicide now, would I be happier?" Just then, a blue-gray cat materialized in the summoning circle, proudly holding a trophy labeled "National Mouse Catching Champion." Elric stared at it in disbelief. Suddenly, he realized that the Fate world wasn't nearly as frightening as he had imagined. _______ Patreon: Nis74 15 Chapters

Nis74 · Anime et bandes dessinées
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17 Chs

Chapter 16

Chapter 16 Tom, what are you doing Tom!!!

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The atmosphere... frozen.

Yet the wind remained loud and restless.

Elric Bradley was stunned. Waver was stunned. Even Hephaestion, who had been idly observing from not far away, found herself momentarily frozen in disbelief.

Tom, standing tall and smug, turned to Elric with a self-satisfied grin, as if seeking approval for his accomplishment. Elric was silent for a moment, processing what had just happened. Finally, as he regained his composure, he raised his right thumb and said, "Impressive."

At that moment, Elric had no other words to describe Tom.

He had initially thought that Tom could, at best, hold his own for a while—after all, the opponent was a Servant. But Alexander hadn't even lasted a few rounds before being taken out by a comically oversized hammer. Elric realized he had underestimated his unusual companion.

Sure, the method of victory was anything but sportsmanlike, but a win was a win.

This realization brought a surprising sense of confidence. Together with Tom, Elric finally understood that they had the power to stand against Servants.

Hearing his master's praise, Tom's chest puffed up with pride. Almost immediately, a dreamy, cloud-like frame appeared above his head as he began to imagine the reward he would receive. At least one apple pie... no, two!

"Slurp, slurp~"

Lost in his fantasies, Tom's mouth began to water. He mimed chewing, as if already savoring the taste of the pies.

"No... No way... Rider is dead?"

Waver stared in disbelief at Alexander's unconscious body. For a moment, his heart sank, and his breath caught. Could his Servant really be gone so easily?

"...Are you an idiot? If Rider were dead, he'd have disappeared already," Hephaestion snapped, throwing him a disdainful glance before focusing her attention back on Tom.

A searing, uncontainable rage began to build in Hephaestion's chest. Her monarch had been humiliated—defeated with a ridiculous hammer. If she did not take revenge, how could she ever call herself loyal?!

True, this cat was absurdly strong, easily toying with Alexander and clearly capable of overwhelming her in combat. If Tom had defeated Alexander through conventional means, she might have reluctantly accepted the loss.

But... this?!

This cat had no honor! Its victory was built on nothing but underhanded tricks and shameless antics!

It could have used its sheer strength to overpower Alexander. Instead, it had stooped to ridicule and mockery.

"Hey! You idiotic cat over there!"

With a burst of red lightning, Hephaestion's entire body became shrouded in crackling energy. Her fury was palpable, and Waver, standing nearby, turned pale. He barely clung to his horse, trembling in fear.

He wanted to run. He had no illusions of safety anymore. With Alexander unconscious, there was no one to protect him. And with another Servant preparing to fight, the aftermath alone might send him to an early meeting with God!

Tom, meanwhile, was still lost in his delicious daydreams when the sound of thunder and a fiery shout from Hephaestion jolted him back to reality. Turning to look, he saw that another figure—a much taller one—had drawn a sword and was now facing him.

But Tom wasn't fazed in the slightest.

While this woman might have been taller than Alexander, she was still shorter than the first opponent he had defeated. That, in Tom's mind, meant she was manageable!

Giving Elric an overly confident nod, Tom decided he would use the same trick again.

In Tom's eyes, Hephaestion wasn't an opponent to fear but rather a walking cake or a plump drumstick. If he could defeat her, his reward would surely multiply. The thought alone made his confidence swell!

"Aha!"

Tom approached casually, stopping about ten meters from Hephaestion. He struck his signature wide-legged stance, grinning mischievously. Turning his right side toward her, he raised his elegant foil, striking a dramatic pose as if to say, Bring it on!

Boom!!!

The air shifted suddenly, a dense blood-red cloud forming overhead. Crimson lightning flickered ominously, illuminating the battlefield with an eerie glow.

Bang!!!!

With a thunderous crash, a chariot pulled by two skeletal dragons slammed into the ground. Each dragon bore immense skeletal wings that flared outward. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the earth, cracking it open as jagged arcs of red lightning danced around the scene.

Hephaestion wasted no time, climbing onto the chariot and gripping the reins tightly in her left hand.

She knew her chances in close combat were slim. Tom's abnormal swordsmanship was impossible to counter, and she wouldn't risk the same humiliating defeat as Alexander. If she wanted to win, she needed overwhelming force—her strongest weapon. And so, without hesitation, she activated her Noble Phantasm.

"Aha…"

Tom's confidence began to falter. He poked his foil forward tentatively, his previous bravado melting away. His body visibly shrank, his legs trembled, and his voice dwindled into a faint, "...aha…"

He gulped audibly, turning his head back toward Elric Bradley. Pointing first at himself, then at the towering chariot wreathed in lightning, his wide-eyed expression begged the question: "Are you serious? You really think I can handle that?"

Elric hesitated briefly. Even he wasn't entirely certain, but to maintain morale, he gave Tom a firm thumbs-up and nodded.

With a shaky sigh, Tom turned back to face the chariot. Its aura of destruction was suffocating. He paused to assess the situation, and his thoughts churned.

"Can I defeat this thing?"

After a moment of contemplation, Tom shook his head emphatically. No. Absolutely not. There was no way a lazy cat like him could deal with such a monstrosity!

"Let's settle this!" Hephaestion roared, snapping the reins. The skeletal dragons roared in unison, and the chariot surged forward, tearing through the air with terrifying speed.

Tom didn't think twice. Without a shred of hesitation, he dropped the French swordsman's outfit and foil, spun on his heel, and bolted in the opposite direction. His survival instincts overpowered any lingering greed. What good was a reward if he didn't live to enjoy it?

But, as fate would have it, his escape didn't go as planned. For some inexplicable reason, his legs churned in place, running comically fast yet going nowhere. It was as if he were stuck on a greased treadmill. Only as the chariot bore down on him did Tom finally manage to launch himself forward in a hilariously exaggerated catapult start.

Unfortunately, it was too little, too late. The chariot closed the gap almost instantly, and one of the skeletal dragons' sharp horns struck Tom squarely on the backside.

"AHHH!"

The impact sent Tom flying through the air. Clutching his throbbing rear, he soared forward in a graceful arc, carried by sheer momentum.

As he sailed, the pain was too much to contain, and Tom let out a dramatic, operatic wail:

"Ah↘Ah↗Ah↘~~~Ah↗ROAR!!!"