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Fate/Disturbance

Reincarnated in the age of the legendary King Arthur, in the dangerous, unknown and hectic world of Fate no less, Aston knew not what drove him to join the King in his, no, her cause.. What had driven him to join her Round Table of Knights? Was it his inability to look away and think solely for himself? Was it the indescribable urge to do something about the unimaginable suffering of the common man? Was it lust for his king? Was it a desire for fame and glory? His ambitions? Aston had fought, killed, suffered, been betrayed, helped, saved, waged war and so much more.. To the point where he'd forgotten the naive him of the past, forgotten what he fought for and perhaps desperately clung to his loyalty to the Legendary King of Camelot. Even as others left, he did not.. Aston remained his king's loyal spear, up until his last breath, his weapon was used to do as his king willed even if he'd long realised it would end with his own death... Now, appearing in a modern age he'd all but forgotten, in a war against his own king, would he cling to the loyalties of a life ended or would he act upon his realisations and in doing so, abandon all he'd stood for? * * * A bit of clarification, this fic is NOT set in the age of King Arthur, it's about a young teenager who reincarnated there and acted on naive thoughts and went too deep to back out once that part of him died off.. The story is set in the 21st century, in the Fate/Stay Night world. * * * Obligatory; All rights go their respective owners, I own nothing except my OCs. And, don't translate or 'share' my stuff, much obliged.

Bleap · Anime e quadrinhos
Classificações insuficientes
64 Chs

Loyalties

"And here I thought you weren't too bright."

Surging flames spread across the desert, kicking up sand as they moved through the desolate tundra like ocean waves, all but scorching those unfortunate enough to be caught in their path, leaving them alive for a few seconds or minutes longer, to die in agony from burn wounds that would kill any ordinary man instantaneously.

They'd been journeying through the desert when they were set upon by unknown assailants, carrying the banners of the Holy Church.

"These are servants? Or extensions of one? But, there are far too many!"

And their numbers were almost as absurd as their own king's.

"Setting off an explosion in the desert would draw attention. My, who would have thought?" Aston shouted back and weaved to the side with elegance one wouldn't expect from a man of his stature before grabbing onto his assailant's helmet, "How do you see through these, is it the cross? Are they meant for some form of gratification?"

"They're bann-..., "A sudden spark cut off his words and could only scream as his form was set ablaze, snuffing out his 'flame' forevermore.

'Ansuz' A rune from the arsenal of the God King of the Nords, All-Father Odin.

Gawain gave a small nod, approving of the raw firepower his fellow knight boasted, "I do not understand, why did you present this power as mine earlier?"

In the first place, the Knight of the Sun did not possess a power that could be employed in the manner they'd used to deal with the spies, or 'distractions', as Aston had claimed. Excalibur Galatine could not cause remote explosions, even if it did, the colour of the flames was all wrong.

Aston slammed his fist into another 'crusader's face' with enough strength to rip through the man's skull, "Where's your King? Are you certain he's not some fat pompous man more synonymous with a hog? That is what I find to be the truth to most men of such exaggerated titles."

"Heretic! Curb thy-"

A crackle of electricity and a head flew into the air, spraying fresh blood that lost it's colour once it fell onto the killer's dark armour, "I'm fairly certain you highly skilled...uhm, questionably skilled warriors came long after us." He kicked the head into a man attacking Gawain from a blindspot, "Even I've never used such primitive vocabulary."

He ran a gaze over the landscape, taking note of assailants that would seem uncountable to most.

"Heh, too few I'm afraid."

To him, it was but that swarm of insects you could squash under your boot but were too disgusted to do so.

To him, who had faced a roman force over a hundred thousand strong, comprised of not just men but beasts as well.

This was nothing.

Azure lightning arched across the clear blue skies, momentarily freezing all those engaged in a bloody conflict under it through the sheer absurdity of it's form, and it's presence in a land wholly lacking in humidity.

That momentary distraction, mere seconds long, cost those who raised the banner of God dearly.

Some lost limbs, others had their bodies cleaved in two entirely, a few lost only their heads, their lives lost instantly.

"AAHHHHH...!!!"

The unfortunate few that drew breath after the initial slaughter were swallowed up by the Earth. Forever lost to the darkness of a massive gorge that had opened up beneath them faster than their eyes could follow.

In an instant, hundreds, if not thousands lost their lives.

In an instant, a battlefield had been transformed the graveyard of those who had been foolish enough to think it a feasible endeavour.

The searing yellow sand was painted a dark red as fresh blood seeped through it like water to eventually become a scarlet waterfall descending into the unknown depths of the newly formed gorge, forever entombed by darkness, along with countless others.

Or so it would have been had they been actual living people, but there was a certain degree of horror in knowing that many of these people had died significantly worse deaths than their original ones if Richard's declaration of being the one who led the crusades as an English King.

Yet all through this, as blood sprayed from open wounds and corpses fell to the ground all around, the Knight of Atrocity stood tall, his form clean and without taint. As his legend proclaimed, the slaughtering monster that knew no restraint felt nothing of those he had killed, of the damage he had caused.

Massacres, astounding collateral damage and slaughter were his modus operandi.

What he'd done throughout his life.

"It's therapeutic in a way, their false end was grander than their truth." He put his hand over his helmet and the armour around his neck shifted back, "Of course, saying that is just my way of 'dealing with it'."

Or so he claimed, but he'd long been desensitised to removing enemy contingents.

Anyone who went to war did it knowing full well the possibility that they might lose their own life instead of taking one. If they didn't, well... Weeping for the foolish was something only a mentally challenged man would do.

"Though, what sort of substance-abusing man are we dealing with here? The number of combatants is significantly larger than anyone should be capable of materialising."

Gawain still stood frozen in place, his blade stuck midswing as if the air had grabbed ahold of it. His sparkling blonde hair marred by the blood of those he'd been fighting what seemed a mere second ago, "W...What?"

"I suppose this makes sense. You've never accompanied me before, have you, sunshine?" Aston grinned, showing white teeth, "This is what you've signed up for in swearing fealty to the Lion King."

Not truly though, he hadn't been able to do this while living.

"I..." Gawain pursed his lips, slowly sheathing his sword, "This will take some getting used to." As expected of a veteran knight, he forcefully calmed himself.

Aston whistled in mock surprise and held a hand over the hilt of his blade, the action concealed by the thick black cloak over his right side, "Somehow, that doesn't feel like a display of intelligence or integrity."

"You said this is what I'd signed up for..." Gawain paused, narrowing his gaze, "Did you not do the same thing?"

"My loyalties lied with the King of Knights."

Perhaps it was because Gawain was simply too trusting, or because he didn't want to accept what his fellow knight meant, "Isn't that the same thing?" He smiled widely and closed his eyes, patting the white haired knight's back as he broke out in laughter, trying to lighten the mood.

Aston only shrugged in response, "If you say so."

"Indeed! Still, I must say it again. To have done this all your life, it must weigh heavy on your heart."

The Knight of Atrocity hummed and placed a hand at his chin, "At one point, I suppose."

Their conversation, or rather, attempt at lessening the mental impact of their actions, was interrupted by a sudden shout from a rider in the distance, "My Lords! Sir Tristan requests aid! He has been ambushed!"

Aston's eyes widened momentarily before he smirked, "Not bad."

-

I've revived.

Patreon still has me age restricted tho cause of the gore, I'll see if they'll let me post there. If they don't, well, I turn 18 in a week or something.