Fate: I Will Eventually Become the Hero of Justice

In the camp on the outskirts of Vâlcea...

Jeanne's eyes fluttered open, her mind clouded with confusion.

"What... what just happened?" she mumbled, her voice laced with grogginess: "Wasn't I listening to Assassin's song? Why... why did I black out?"

She tried to recall her memories.

"No, it's not coming back to me... It's odd, why can't I remember? And this wave of nausea?"

Jeanne's expression was one of bewilderment.

She couldn't quite remember what had just happened. And every attempt to do so was accompanied by a wave of queasiness, as if her mind had been tainted by some severe mental contamination.

"Oh?" Shirou looked over, one eyebrow raised, and walked over. "Good to see you're up, Ruler."

Jeanne lifted her eyes to meet Shirou's, her body shuddering subconsciously, instinctively wanting to run away.

For a brief moment, she felt the ghostly sensation of a cold hand creeping down her back, and filthy water being poured into her ears.

Just illusions... only illusions...

Why would she entertain such disrespectful thoughts about someone she admired?

Jeanne chastised herself silently.

"What's happened to me, Assassin?" she asked.

"It's nothing," Shirou replied with a dismissive shake of his head: "You simply became overwhelmed by the profound beauty of my performance."

Shirou waved his hand around, and as Jeanne followed his gesture, she saw a field of... not corpses, but people who had fainted.

The song...

That song...

Jeanne's face turned pale.

Despite instinctively resisting, the memory resurfaced and clawed its way into her brain!

The singing was an abomination, just like the mournful cries from some nasty ghouls!

It began with a headache, followed by emotional agitation, then dizziness, and after that came ear pain, palpitations, sweating, irregular heartbeat...

After enduring what felt like an eternity of hell but was only five minutes, and just as she was about to flee, a black tentacles from the abyss itself seemed to seize her tightly.

And then...

There was no 'then'; within ten minutes, darkness had claimed her consciousness.

She remembered...

Jeanne remembered everything.

Her gaze flitted over to Shirou; her face was as white as a sheet.

A brief glance at the scattered bodies around them was enough...

She made a silent vow—never again would she subject herself to the auditory torture of Shirou's "singing."

"Did you like my singing, Ruler?" Shirou asked.

Jeanne: "..."

"It was... lovely... absolutely fantastic."

What else could she say?

She mustered the most dazzling, insincere smile she could manage.

In fact, what Jeanne and Shirou did not know was that Shirou's singing was simply off-key, as if it had strayed from the South Pole all the way to the North Pole. Moreover, Shirou, reveling in his own world, liked to sing wildly following his feelings.

Surely, it couldn't be that bad, one might think.

But they'd be wrong. When he sang, it wasn't just loud; it was ear-shattering. Normal conversation hovers around 40-60 decibels, and anything more than that starts to grate on the ears. An 80-decibel noise can give you a pounding headache, but Shirou? His vocals blasted past 140 decibels with pitches wild enough to make your head spin—calling it merely 'uncomfortable' would be an understatement.

As for why he could belt out at 140 decibels while singing... with the power of 'Evil' that can repair infinitely, he had no reason to hold back. Who cares about your vocals when you have immortal cords? It was all about unleashing raw, unchecked passion.

In time, Spartacus and others, including A-11072, began to stir, groggy and disoriented. Recollections of Shirou's "performance" washed over them, draining the color from their faces. 

Yet their hearts were in the right place.

Unwilling to hurt Shirou's feelings, they could only suppress their consciences' reproach and praise his singing.

In that moment, the homunculi discovered the art of the "white lie."

And thus, Mash's anticipation for Shirou's singing grew. With all the praise for his voice, it must be close to the sound of heaven, right?

Mash was somewhat expectant.

Of course, Shirou knew better than to overdo his performances. Too much of a good thing would depreciate its value.

...

As dawn broke, the city was peaceful again.

Shirou's interest in the ongoing conflict between the Red and Black factions had faded. Now, his mission was to destroy the connection point in this world. Yet his understanding of this anomaly was basic, and he needed someone with deeper knowledge to fill in the blanks. He was stuck waiting for Gray to show up.

Jeanne, on the other hand, was considering leaving. However, her [Revelation] wouldn't allow her to leave just yet. Frustrated and confused by the Lord's intentions, she let out a deep sigh.

As Shirou exchanged words with Spartacus about the problem in the city, Jeanne couldn't help but overhear.

Her eyes widened in alarm, and with a voice tinged with urgency, she interjected, "Did I just hear that right? The Red Caster, he can summon... octopuses that are dozens of meters wide?"

Shirou affirmed with a nod, "That's right. Why do you ask?"

"No, this can't be happening... Is it him? Has he been summoned? This cannot be..." she muttered to herself.

For the first time, the eyes of this saint didn't flicker with kindness and innocence, but with profound sorrow and a hatred that seemed almost to spill over.

Noticing the change, Shirou's expression turned to one of concern. "What's wrong, Ruler?"

"I see now why I've been sent to this place... I must look into what's happening in the city. If it's truly him, then I have a new mission in this Holy Grail War—I'll stop the Red Caster myself!"

Shirou watched her, a crease forming in his brow. Who could bring such hatred to Jeanne, and what could drive her to consider abandoning her own principles?

...

Trifas City.

The Church...

Kotomine ushered the nun into the room with an amiable smile.

Adorned in a traditional black habit and white veil, the nun's attire clung to her in a way that accentuated her elegant, curvaceous figure, while her face, framed by the fabric, radiated a delicate beauty.

He greeted her warmly, "It's a pleasure to welcome the Master of the Red Caster. With your arrival, our Red faction is now complete."

Her lips curved into a smile as she responded, "Thank you for such a warm welcome, Father."

Kotomine introduced the nun to the others present—Semiramis, Atalanta, and Karna.

With a weighty sigh, he lamented, "It's unfortunate that our Red faction's Rider, Achilles, has fallen, and our Saber isn't the easiest servant to work with. It would have been quite impressive to have the entire ensemble here."

"Perhaps it's for the best," the nun said softly.

Kotomine raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

Shaking her head, she laughed softly, "It's nothing. Just a fleeting thought."

Kotomine cast a look around the room before asking another question, "And where might your Caster be?"

"He's still in his workshop and didn't come with me."

"Ah, I see…"

A silent understanding passed between Kotomine and Semiramis with a shared glance.

Atalanta "hmpf"ed and turned to leave.

Karna glanced at the nun and then closed his eyes, remaining silent.

Kotomine gestured towards the hallway and said with a sly smile, "The rest of the Masters are here already, discussing our strategy. Come, they're waiting."

"Alright. Thank you, Father."

Kotomine nodded and then asked, "By the way, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Me?" The nun touched her chest in a gesture of surprise, her lips curving into a charming, almost angelic smile. "I am Kiara Sessyoin."

For a moment, Kotomine was spellbound by her charm; it was almost as if she filled his entire world. He quickly shook his head and snapped back to reality, offering a small, courteous bow. "Please, after you."

...

Get the latest chapters up to Chapter 1100 on my Patreon: patreon.com/bcloud