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Type-Moon: Simulation Starts from Greece

Legend has it, he is the hero Griffith, who, with a single recitation of his Noble Phantasm, made all the Greek heroes chant poems of chuunibyou style during their ultimate moves. Legend has it that he is a hero created from a lie, a descendant of the heroes aboard the Argo, and the descendant of Kratos, the dragon slayer hero. Legend has it he is the hero who peeled off the armour of the gods from the flesh and blood of his body, making even the sun god impressed with his dedication. Some say that the goddess of beauty, the goddess of wisdom, the goddess of discord, and even the pure goddess of the moon and the queen of the underworld were all madly in love with him and fought fiercely over him. He is the Adonis of spring, adorning the pure hearts of goddesses with floral crowns, a rainbow-coloured figure in the eyes of countless unrequited lovers, both human and divine. Apollo wept daily in white learning, saying: "It was me first." Poseidon looked at Athena's kiss with jealous envy, splitting apart with rage: "How am I supposed to feel seeing the ones I once desired and those I now desire together?" The three Celtic goddesses, unable to obtain him, sought to destroy him. The earth mother goddess Nephthys personally crowned him as the hero of the storm, giving him the name of Set, the god of destruction in the desert, viewing him as her eternal lover. And it all starts with a war, with the hero chanting: "The awe of the king is displayed at this moment. Witness the power that shakes the heavens and the earth!" ___________________ This is a Translation.. So, you can credit the original 'Author: Merlin You Have No Feelings' ...he has written a good fanfic. I'm merely translating ... if the original author wants me to remove their work, just leave a comment below msg me at.. https://www.scribblehub.com/profile/114611/abhii28/ ______ I've used chatgpt for translation with some adjustments so, only read if you can handle the words. The updates will be fast as I've got about 100 chapters in stock. (Ancient Greece–Rome–Greece..) The Story starts in Rome and then simulates to the Ancient Greece(Trojan War)...

Abhii_28 · 漫画同人
分數不夠
74 Chs

Despair, Survivors Remaining - 39

At that moment, a faint noise suddenly broke Night's thoughts.

Sensing something, he abruptly opened his eyes and shouted, "Enemy attack! Take up arms, prepare for battle!"

Whoosh! Just as his words fell, an arrow shot towards them.

Night instinctively raised his arm to block, and the arrow struck the joint of his armor but bounced off due to his invulnerable body.

However, the others weren't as fortunate.

Although the soldiers reacted quickly, several were hit by arrows, crying out in pain as they fell.

One soldier, who had just stood up, was particularly unlucky, being struck by three arrows at once.

Night recognized this soldier as the one who had earlier bitterly lamented that while he fought for his country, his wife might be running off with another man.

He had been angry, questioning the purpose of their seemingly meaningless battle, confused about what he was fighting for.

And now, this young man, who had been angry and lost, fighting for Rome, met an abrupt end.

The fleeting nature of life magnified his unfulfilled desires and incomprehension in Night's heart, making him question what he was truly doing...

He couldn't accept it.

But this was the reality, this was war.

There were no heroes or miracles, only lives snuffed out like ants.

Once anger or despair took hold, one would instantly become a victim of death's jaws.

Calm down, calm down...

The soldiers fought on, suppressing their anger and fear.

At this point, the enemy revealed themselves—Spanish rebels holding torches appeared before them.

After a round of shooting, these rebels didn't retreat but instead advanced, aiming to annihilate the Roman soldiers before them.

They drew their weapons and charged.

"Gracchus!! Hide behind Carl, don't come out!" Night quickly assessed the enemy's numbers, his pupils narrowing slightly, and then he immediately shouted.

A team of five hundred?

Victory wasn't impossible.

"Everyone, form a circle, shields up, defensive stance, now!"

At Night's command, the Roman soldiers who were still able to move, trusted in his abilities.

And despite their adrenaline-fueled tension, immediately followed his orders, quickly forming a circle.

Night drew his spear, but instead of holding a shield in his other hand, he gripped a long sword.

This stance showed a complete abandonment of defense in favor of an all-out attack.

Using twin weapons required a high level of skill, which he had not systematically learned.

However, wielding a spear in one hand and slashing with a sword in the other was well within his capability.

Given his current strength, even the most ordinary slash could tear through the Spanish rebels like a wolf among sheep.

Thus began a fierce battle where only one side could survive.

.....

Time fast-forwarded—

The Spanish rebels had no hero-level fighters, only ordinary men.

Despite their numbers, Night, with considerable effort, managed to slaughter them all as a few survivors fled in terror.

As dawn approached, the first light of daybreak rose on the horizon.

Night stood atop a mound of corpses, his face showing undeniable fatigue.

They had survived—!

After defending all night, only 43 soldiers remained out of the initial 43 who had been caught off guard.

Miraculously, they were still alive.

The surviving soldiers stared at the strong figure bathed in the morning light with reverence and slowly growing admiration.

The next moment, they burst into cheers.

A hero and a miracle had appeared…!

However, their celebration was cut short when they saw their hero silently walking towards the pile of corpses before stopping beside a fallen Roman soldier.

Night knelt and examined the soldier who had been struck by three arrows and had barely hung on to witness the end of the battle.

"I'm sorry, I can't save you," He said, feeling the weight of the soldier's fatal injuries.

Although he had no personal connection with this soldier, the soldier's earlier anguished voice lingered in his mind.

Like Carl, this soldier had fought for Rome for decades without ever returning home.

Yet, such a warrior couldn't even be certain of his family's safety or remember their faces.

The sight of this dying soldier brought the cheering soldiers to a somber halt, plunging them into a deathly silence.

A heavy atmosphere settled over them.

"Cough, cough, I know," the soldier managed to say.

His survival for even a minute longer was astonishing.

The soldier suddenly reached out with a trembling hand, and Night instinctively grasped it.

This simple gesture seemed to lessen the soldier's pain and bring him some peace.

"I don't want to die. I don't want to die. What have we been fighting for, only to die here? If anyone can answer me, it's you, strong like a hero. Can you tell me why we fought until now? Cough, cough… Did we do something wrong to deserve this fate?

I know war and killing are wrong, and those who take lives must be prepared to lose their own.

But, but what have we gained? We've sacrificed so much, destroyed so many lives and nations, and now…"

The soldier's voice faltered, and he sobbed, "I've forgotten what my family looks like. Ah, ah—" He died quietly in Night's arms before finishing his sentence, his body finally giving out under the weight of psychological collapse.

Night's hands were stained with the soldier's blood and grime, but he didn't care.

He was deeply silent.

This was just a simple skirmish, insignificant compared to the Trojan War he had once experienced.

But in this battle, he felt a deeper, darker, and more tangible truth of the world.

After checking on the wounded and confirming there were no more survivors, Night said, "Let's go… This place is no longer safe."

"The enemy has already discovered our trail and will surely report to their main force. Grab your weapons; we must keep moving forward!" He finally stood up and commanded.

There was no more celebration; everyone silently followed orders.

They didn't even have time to bury their fallen comrades.

As they stepped over the bodies of their companions and continued on, the mood of the group turned somber, as if they saw their own fate mirrored in those who had fallen.

From the initial 43, only 39 remained, and more than half were either lightly or seriously injured.

They pressed on, and finally, before the second sunset, they reached the mouth of the Ebro River.

However, when they looked toward the river mouth, they saw soldiers stationed there—soldiers dressed in the uniforms of the Spanish rebels.

Night and his men hid in the nearby hills.

While temporarily safe, despair was etched on everyone's faces.

"How... how could this happen?"

"The way is blocked... even if we manage to build rafts, we can't cross the Ebro River with the Spanish rebels guarding it."

"Is it the soldiers from that army that fled earlier? Did they go back and inform others?"

"They've stationed so many people here, there must be thousands of them."

It's over—!

The Spanish rebels already knew their approximate location.

They even predicted their route and blocked the river mouth in advance.

With no reinforcements and the safe area continuously shrinking under enemy search, the path to safety was clearly in sight… yet it was also the most dangerous place no it was utterly impassable.

Suddenly, 25 kilometers became an insurmountable distance for everyone trying to return to Rome, to return home.

And at this moment, Night's heart sank to its lowest point.

Was surrender the only option here?

Historically, during this Roman campaign, the commanding officer had managed to negotiate a chance to escape after surrendering supplies and equipment.

But such an arrangement might not apply in their current situation.

The Spanish rebels had surrounded the Roman forces but weren't confident they could completely defeat them, which is why they opted for a bloodless negotiation that satisfied both parties.

And to protect the recently acquired substantial supplies, the rebels would not go back on their word and attack.

However, Night's current troop was so poor they couldn't scrape together a single auris.

Not to mention, if you disregard Night—just looking at this remnant army, who (the enemy) wouldn't think they were an easy target to bully?