"I am a king of the people that walk the fair and righteous path."

"A path of virtue, honour, and chivalry that lead to the creation of a kingdom. A kingdom that all would flock to, yet none would know of its location."

"As such, it can be anywhere."

"For it is not simply just a kingdom built by the hands of mortals. It is a kingdom that represented a dream that all people scattered in the past, present, and future will forever herald with the utmost respect."

"For its memory shall forever be preserved within the hearts of man."

The air began shimmering; distorting the world around everyone present as reality bent to the knight's will. The knight who stood resolute in his cause. Who would not falter in the face of his perceived evil, his adversary; the man who would demean the lives of the innocent for his own gain and entertainment: Marquis Voban.

The ground began transitioning from tiled floor, to lush grass and loose gravel as a great wind began blowing. The wind rocking the grass back and forth as the roof of the room they were in was replaced by a vast blue sky. Off to the side was a great fortified castle sporting the flag of the welsh dragon and off the British flag. The flags standing tall, with dignity and pride for the castle in which they adorned.

It was at this very moment that all would see that the very world had changed.


"Marvelous." Voban said as he stared across the vast expanse. At the open plain and lush trees growing a small distance away from a lake bed to his far right. "A fitting area to do battle."

His undead servants gathered in front of him, weapons raised, shields at the ready. And yet they didn't move, didn't so much as take a single step. for even in death they were still once battle honed warriors. As such they could instinctively feel the tension in the air. A tension that threatened to utterly destroy them had they taken that initial step forward.

And the undead servants were right in doing so.

"If you would summon an army of undead to fight your battles, then I shall call forth the weapons of my armory." The knight said as green light began filling the air.

The light moved like lightning as it took shape. Shapes that could not be mistaken for anything other than weapons. Weapons that in an instant took material form. Their majesty and grace unmistakable to that of weapons of legends forged in flame and tempered in battle. Swords. Spears. Axes. Armaments of all kinds. They all turned their aim to towards the undead; their blade edges sharp, their lethality without question.

Yet in response to this, Voban had only smiled at the prospect of a battle. It was all he could live for. All that he stood for...At least ever since that day.

He cleared his mind of such irrelevant thoughts. Nothing was more important at this moment. This moment in time where he can once again feel alive. To feel, even if it came in the form of the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Go." Voban commanded his undead.

Steam seamed to flow out of the undead's mouths as if there still existed lungs within their chest cavities to regulate breathing. But yet they could not, for they were simply skeletons; husks of their former selves denied entrance into heaven or hell. And so it can be said that they no longer knew fear. For fear is what separates the living from the dead. For fear is simply an instinct to preserve one's life.

With hollow downtrodden gazes, the undead moved forward in a sprint; their feet trampling the green grass beneath them and propelling them forward.

Like a missile, a single sword shot forward at super sonic speed; landing directly in front of the approaching army of undead; the sword impacting the ground and creating a smoke screen of dust and debris that cut away the knight from view.

Fearlessly, the undead charged within the dust cloud; the few magic using undead servants staying behind so as to cast their spells.

The sounds of steel grating against steel could be heard from within the cloud of dust and debris as the glow of numerous sparks could be seen. As expected, it was accompanied with the sounds of more objects impacting against the ground. Be that as it may, the sound had only lasted for but a moment and all was quite as the dust began to settle.

The dust settled, the results revealed.

The ground lay battered, pulverized by numerous impacts that gouged out large craters filled with the undead. Their armor in tatters, like Swiss cheese. A sword stuck out of one's chest, a spear stabbed straight through another's head and down to his lower body. Others were less fortunate, their limbs hacked and lay severed on the ground as daggers had stabbed through their faces. Cracking them, fracturing them. There was nothing left of the skull-ed visages but the lower maws.

The Marquis Voban smiled in utter defiance to the knight.

He raised a hand and more undead rose to replace those who had fallen, but he waved them to the side as he built up magical energy around him. His mouth elongated, his body shot outwards and vertically as his hands turned into claws. Claws that were quickly covered in sleek blue fur that sprouted from his entire body. His face was of the wolf bringing life to the saying "if you live among wolves you have to act like a wolf." For around him appeared his pack. His wolves that would obey his command.

The battle had only just begun.


Lilianna Kranjcar narrowed her eyes so as to bare witness to the battle that was underway from the top of the castle wall where she and the other Witches and Hime-Miko found themselves. And yet, she was not the only one as all eyes were turned to such a battle between god and Campione. They did not watch simply because it was a rare occurrence, but it would dictate the fate of their lives. Would the hero, the knight who fought in their defense, or would the villain, the Marquis Voban come out victorious.

She clasped her hands in prayer for the knight as did many others. For that knight, though a god, would stand up for them, mere mortals. It drove their maiden hearts a flutter; for there were such stories of gods and mortals producing children of great power. Demi-gods.

"Lord grant him strength!" They prayed.

All the while a man walked out from the shadows and towards the group of women. His steps tapping against the hard stone of the castle wall.


"What is this power coursing through me?" Shirou asked Arthur as he felt a rise in his reserves. The feeling came naturally as breathing, or as one would gauge their level of fatigue.

"That be the power of prayer," Arthur said as he looked through Shirou's eyes to focus on their opponent. "Similarly, it is the power of protecting the weak; an attribute of a god of steel. Now focus, he is comming."

"Understood."

Shirou's beast of an opponent sucked in air, its chest expanding before a ferocious howl traveled through Voban's tracheae and out of his mouth. A mouth that revealed Voban's sharp canines and course tongue that hung loose for a moment as it licked its lips.

With practiced movement, Voban who clearly resembled a wolf, crouched down and tensed his hind muscles as his jade eyes locked on to Shirou. Eyes that knew no fear. Eyes of a predator assessing the capabilities of its prey. And yet those eyes held something more.


"What is thy name child?" The boy did not respond, choosing to lay limp by the road side due to malnourishment. His eyes however, drifted towards the direction of the voice. "I can tell from thy eyes that thou art not a coward who would run away from life, no; thine eyes tell me a different story."

The boy positioned himself up; using nothing but his will power alone. With narrowed eyes he turned towards his questioner, yet still he did not give an answer.


With a speed that no mortal could ever hope to match, Voban sprung from his hind legs and fell into a quadrupedal-ed stance that served to further increase his speed. For it was a fact that bipedal animals are slower than quadrupedal ones.

Voban's claws tore craters into the ground due to the force of each step. Each step supporting the weight of his near twenty meter in length form.

Above Voban, countless weapons hanging limply in the air, shot forward; swords vying to pierce, axes spinning like saw blades cutting the wind and producing a high pitched frequency noise.

Spears, daggers, all moved in varying motions in a way that would increase their lethality. If an axe was meant to chop, what would have been the point of shooting it like a dagger, a sword, or a spear? There simply wasn't.

Shirou's weapons weren't simply limited to spears, axes, or daggers, no.

A different sort of weapon flew through the air creating a lower frequency noise as it spun in a fashion similar to the axes. Its motion perpetual, its shaft imbalanced with its head as it bludgeoned the smaller wolves in its path. Heads were crushed, limbs broken and lay detached and battered on the ground before fading. Yet such a weapon was not enough to hinder Voban's massive form as it had only deflected off the form's hide and lay sprawled on the ground. Its motion stopped, the image of the weapon no longer blurred.

It was a bloody mace.

Similarly, other weapons didn't have an effect, their value as weapons to low for they were simply mundane; their majestic appearance but an effect of the imbued essence of divinity. That however did not mean that they weren't effective in slowing down Voban. A constant torrent of steel rained down on him like rain, weighing him down as water would with dry clothes.

"This is beginning to irritate me." Voban said.

The wolves and undead surged forward, effectively using their bodies as shields. For a brief moment, the faces that had once been plastered on the undead returned; their gazes downcast, their will no longer their own.

Blocked by the mass of bodies, the torrent of steel was no longer effective as Voban closed in on Shirou; his mouth opened, teeth bared in a manor reminiscent of a smile. With one final stride, the ground tore, the wind billowed, and Voban lashed out at Shirou; his front paw swiping with ferocious vigor.

Vigor that soon intensified as Voban's paw met resistance.

Shirou strained against the force of the blow, his arms locked, his muscles tense.

"Place mine divinity into thy arms." Arthur said.

Doing as advised, Shirou's arms relaxed as the force exuded by the blow became minimal; his power matching his enemy's. Be that as it may, the situation was intensified as Voban swiped with his other paw, the force greater if not equal to the previous. Lashing out with both of his arms, Shirou forced his way out of the situation and took a cautious leap back. His eyes trained on Voban for any sudden movements.

"Impressive." Voban complimented. "But the warm up's over."

Wordlessly, Shirou extended out his arms. Teal coloured lightning erupted from his palms before a sword appeared in each hand. One of the darkest black, and one of the purest white.

Kanshou and Bakuya: Gan Jiang and Mo Ye. Twin swords representing yin and yang encountered by Archer at some point during his lifetime and added to the numerous weapons recorded and stored in Unlimited Blade Works. They are Archer's favored weapons to project, having become his symbol after wielding them all his life. Rather than what the blades represented, Archer found the craftsmanship of the blades to be extremely captivating and beautiful; not withstanding that the blades matched his style of fighting.

Despite not having a wielder in the legends, they are still Noble Phantasms crafted by the blacksmith Gān Jiàng, Kanshou, of Wu during the spring and autumn period of China. They were crafted more for the sake of crafting, as if questioning the meaning of the sword smith, rather than for any real idea behind their creation. They were created without vanity, and lack a sense of purpose found in other swords. They contain no fighting spirit to defeat others, or competitive spirit to beat other weapons. They contain neither the desire to be famous nor the faith to accomplish great deeds. In other word, perfect for a man like Archer.

The air buzzed as Voban sprang forward; creating a noise reminiscent of a flying bee. Voban's teeth bared, he bit down on Shirou with unimaginable force.

The ground shook, ripples formed in the nearby lake, and a shock wave of wind blew out with Shirou at the epicenter. His arms were locked in place, Kanshou and Bakuya respectively lodged against the beast's teeth to prevent the fatal clamping of its mouth.

A sudden feeling of trepidation welled up within Shirou as he noticed the beast's eyes narrow at him. With not a moment to waste, he lashed out by kicking the beast's lower mandible which shook from the impact, but still held fast. He knew that he was in trouble.

The pressure of the bite intensified as Shirou felt a familiar sense of weightlessness associated with losing his footing.

The beast had jumped. He still lodged firmly within the beast's mouth due to the constant pressure of the beast's jaws. Jaws that released themselves as soon as the beast had reached a high enough altitude.

Falling as gravity compelled him downwards, he instinctively reinforced his body; an aura emitting off of him before vanishing the second he had finished his reinforcement.

The beast's eyes widened, before snarling as if it was reminded of a painful memory. It spun and struck a well timed paw down on him. Evading, he retaliated by swinging down with Kanshou, cutting into the beast's paw, but similarly leaving himself open for the beast's follow up. A follow up that came in the form of a furred leg that struck him on the side, but fortunately he just barely managed to block with Bakuya.

The force of the blow however, had sent him careening down towards the ground where he crashed and tumbled a few paces before re-orientating himself.

Voban stared down at Shirou as he landed a fair distance off. His eyes no longer contained the glint of blood lust, that Shirou had witnessed at the beginning of the battle, but rather something else.

"You." Voban said as he thoroughly eyed Shirou. "Your presence is familiar."


"Eat." He said. A sack of food was laid out on the dirt ground in front of the child.

"I won't thank you." Said the boy already eyeing the food. His stomach growled, his mouth began to water. He had not eaten in the past four days. Life was hard without money after all. Even more so when no one cared for you.

"I do not do this for thanks child." He sat, staring across at the boy.

"..." Hesitantly, the boy reached out for a bright red apple, staring un-trustingly at the provider. When said provider simply urged him on after taking a bite of another apple, he hungrily devoured all the food brought to him; never truly tasting it in his haste.


Wordlessly, Shirou got up. There wasn't a scratch on him due to the passive boost of being within Camelot, his sturdy body, and his own reinforcement.

"Are you alright Shirou?" Arthur asked.

"I'm fine."

Voban shook his head and once again stared down at Shirou, blood lust returning into his eyes.

This time however, before Voban could take the initiative, Shirou sped forward; his arms to his side. He flung Kanshou and Bakuya towards the beast, creating another pair in the process of doing so.

Spirit and technique, flawless and firm

Laughing at such an absurdly obvious attack, Voban deflected Kanshou and Bakuya away with his arms. Sending them sailing over head and towards the pack of wolves and undead acting as meat shields to prevent interruption from the torrent of blades created by Shirou.

They cut, they severed, they chopped.

Hordes of undead were demolished. Packs of wolves howled their final desperate cries as Kanshou and Bakuya tore through them all and disappeared off into the distance.

At the same time however, many of the weapons Shirou had traced had already lost their value as they were lodged in the ground. Unable to utilize them any longer, Shirou had willed them to fade away; leaving behind only the ones that were still suspended within the air.

Our strength rips the mountains

Shirou dodged an attack of hoarfrost and fire from the beast's undead magicians who were promptly skewered by lances, before closing in on the beast.

His arms were crossed, his second traced pair of Kanshou and Bakuya at the ready grasped within his palms. With a battle cry he lashed out.

Our swords split the water

One strike. Two strikes. Three.

Shirou launched three strikes that Voban had blocked, and yet he did not waver. Blow after blow he pressed on. Blow after blow the beast steadily began to bore down on him; its claws extending from its paws. Four sixteen inch blades for claws that were more reminiscent of serrated Persian sabers with the blade edge at the curved side.

"You are inexperienced with battle," Voban kicked at the ground, sending a shower of debris at Shirou who did not relent on his blows.

Shirou's face remained the utmost calm, for uncertainty had no place in battle. In was a concept persistently hammered into his head by Arthur.

"Or perhaps it is but a facade." Voban mused as he dodged a precise chop to his neck before he began to actively attempt to cut Shirou into pieces; using the dust of the debris to mask his blows.

Our names reach the imperial villa

Valiantly, Shirou endured the bout with Voban; Kanshou and Bakuya deflecting away Voban's claws.

"Your words hold power." Voban analyzed. "Divine words?"

Shirou's eyes narrowed before he spotted an opening from the beast as it over extended with a swipe of its paw. With but a small release of his breath, he struck. Quick was his movement; strong was his blow. The beast reeled back in pain as Kanshou sunk through its sturdy skin and into the fleshy pink muscle beneath.

Voban howled, sending veritable shock waves through the air that oscillated and vibrated through the area. Voban retreated, a paw over his injury as he began to heal from the aura exuding out of his body.

From the distant horizon, in the east and in the west, twin objects flew down from the air. Both sailing down, decreasing their altitude and converting all their potential energy into highly destructive kinetic force. A force that would be backed with mystical properties.

The two of us cannot hold the heavens together.

"Trace on." Shirou said as he threw the second pair of Kanshou and Bakuya in his hands at Voban while he traced a third pair; flooding them with prana and divinity that surpassed the amount Kanshou and Bakuya could hold. They cracked, forming hair-lined fissures that ran up and down the twin blades.

From those fissures, light energy began emitting; breaking the blades and forcing said fissures larger and larger until Kanshou and Bakuya resembled the wings of an angel. Steel pinions of the darkest black and the purest white that extended over both of Shirou's shoulder's as he crossed them behind his back.

His appearance was that of an angel falling from grace. As if the black of Kanshou's blade represented the bleak sacrifice and sorrow of their creator while Bakuya's white represented the hopes and dreams.

They were descending from the air with Shirou held within his hands; for they could not hold the heavens together.

"A god of such steel." Voban said as he stared mesmerized by the scene. "Truly magnificent."

Voban's ears perked up as the sounds of an incoming object invaded them.

He looked to the east and to the west and discovered his folly in the form of two identical blades homing in on him.

He was trapped. Caged-in in all fronts. Whether it be from the blades coming in from his back, the ones directly in front of him, or Shirou who was soaring down on lethal steel wings.

He braced himself. Bolstered his defenses. For escape was simply impossible.

Shirou swung down as all the traced copies of Kanshou and Bakuya converged at one point. The Marquis Voban.

Crane Wing Three Realm!


"Why doth thou follow me?" He said as he turned back to the boy who followed him a couple paces back. The road side in which they walked upon was strewn with rigid and decrepit looking remains of decaying leaves and other such shrubbery. It was fall. Cold tail winds blew from the north, scattering around the debris on the road.

A child barely eight years old held his tongue as he could not come up with an answer. Perhaps it was the uncertainty of rejection that was keeping him from speaking his mind. Choosing instead to mask it behind his built up tolerance. His lips quirked into a frown as his little fingers closed into tiny fists.

"Why do you let me?" The boy asked defiantly.


Andrea Rivera stepped out of the shadows and approached the line of sight of the Witches and Hime-Miko.

He knew he shouldn't have followed after that idiot, but low and behold he did. He was a fool. What did he honestly expect? That that idiot of a friend of his would run off to some tea party? No, of course not. It always had to be into a damn bloody life or death situation.

He brought a hand to his chest as he was sure that he was finished when he had gotten trapped within the chamber in which a ritual held by the Marquis Voban was taking place. Now however, it would seem that he was safe within the castle produced from the Authority of the knight that had appeared and stopped the ritual.

"I mean you no harm." He said as the group of women tensed with his approach.

"Who are you?" Mariya Yuri asked as she stepped to the front of the crowd. All eyes were drawn to Andrea. All ears were listening for any hint of treachery. Of cleverly hidden lies that may lie behind his speech.

"Andrea Rivera." Andrea said as he turned to a girl with a familiar shade of silver hair. "You remember me do you not, Liliana Kranjcar?"

Liliana remained silent; her face one of contemplation. Her eyes were closed, her facial features scrunched up while she stroked her chin with a thumb from her right hand.

"The King's Butler?"

She finally concluded as she opened her eyes to stare at Andrea.

"...Yes," Andrea sighed in mortification. "Unfortunately I have been branded with such a name."

Upon gaining acknowledgment of her deductive reasoning, Liliana asked the very first thought that appeared in her mind.

"Where is your king, Lord S-?"

Andrea's eyes twitched before they began to spasm uncontrollably; a psychotic look plastered on his face.

"Do you know what that idiot has put me through?!"

A cold feeling of maliciousness washed through everyone present as an aura of dread seemed to gather around Andrea. Andrea began laughing hysterically into the air.

"I'm going for a walk he said as he restrained me and tied me up on the back of a pick up truck. A back of a damn pick up truck!"

Andrea paced back and forth, a glint of the beginnings of lunacy sparkling in his eyes.

"I escaped of course, but what do you know, my king's walk involved paying the Marquis Voban a visit."

Andrea's laugh escalated to full blown hysterics.

"When I get my hands on the ba-"

"-Andrea?"

"...Yes?" Andrea said as the aura of dread disappeared. Noticing the looks he was receiving, Andrea re-adjusted his business suit and released his breath while acting as if nothing was the matter.

"No, never mind." Liliana said momentarily stunned.

A shock wave shot through the air; shaking the castle ground in which Andrea and everyone else stood. Their eyes widened in surprise as they fought to steady themselves, some already on the ground since they were unable to maintain their balance. As soon as it occurred, it had stopped. Everyone ran over to the edge of the castle's wall and peered at the cloud of smoke rising in the distance.


The dead were buried. The pack of wolves destroyed by the resulting shock wave of the explosion that had occurred. Countless weapons lay scattered across the ground, many already beginning to fade. At the center of the blast lay a massive crater. The water from the nearby lake pooling inside and reflecting the image of the tranquil blue sky over head.

Shirou stood standing alone at the top of the crater. His eyes wary of any movement. Any indication of potential danger. His armor was torn in various places; his brow glistened with a sheen of sweat that began to form droplets. Droplets that rolled down to his chin and onto the earth below.

The ground quaked as a column of green light shot up into the sky from the epicenter of the blast crater.

"You impress me more and more." Voban said as he appeared a fair distance off. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead and onto the white of his tuxedo in which he wore; staining it a scarlet red as if a rose had suddenly bloomed. "To have forced me to revert back into my base form. Truly commendable, God of Steel."

"I shall accept your praise and deliver my own as a knight, no; as a king should." Shirou's eyes narrowed at Voban as he grudgingly acknowledged his opponents skill. "You are a rather durable and strong opponent aren't you."

"Of course. It's to be expected of me, the oldest Campione after all." Voban began to ponder on a certain subject. "Those blades," He began. "They were of eastern origin, and yet your appearance leads me to believe that you hail from the west. How intriguing."

"I am a mystery as quoted by a certain goddess I know." Shirou stated as he shrugged his shoulders. And yet not once did he let his guard down during this brief and unexpected armistice.

"Indeed you are." Voban crossed his arms together as his gaze lingered on Shirou. On the sleek steel armor in which Shirou wore over his fine royal blue embroidered with gold lace undershirt. "Indeed you are."

Shirou's gaze too, lingered on Voban. At the face that had grown wrinkles which seemed to age his features by a couple decades. And yet this did not hide the outline of Voban's complexion that was sure to have been rather dashing in his younger years. White hair blew haphazardly from side to side as within Voban's being, a storm of hidden emotions began to brew.


"Thou art injured again I see." Using a wet cloth he cleaned the cuts and bruises of the boy who grew up to be a teen. "Thou should stop agitating the Marquis of this land."

"Why would you care?" The teen asked while brushing him off with a wave of a hand. The teen turned to look at the ground, his hair casting over his eyes and concealing them within the shadow created. "No one should care about the life of a vagabond orphan who steals for a living."

He turned his wise eyes towards the teen. He sighed before placing both of his hands on the teen's shoulder and turning him around to face him. "Thou art never alone in this world. There will always be someone looking out for you whether they be seen or not seen."

He stared into the teen's hesitant eyes and saw the flickers of doubt still lingering.

"...Then what does that make you?" The teen finally asked after a brief moment.

"Someone who cares." He placed a hand on the teens head and ruffled his hair as he has always done in the past few years of wandering. "Now eat; the food will go cold. We never know when the next meal will come after all."

"What about you?" The teen asked while looking at his empty hands.

"It doesn't matter, I'll find something for myself later." He urged the teen to eat, for he did not need to.

Briefly the teen smiled before taking the time to actually enjoy the food prepared for him. Savoring it as a warmth filled his heart. A warmth of compassion. A warmth of kindness. A warmth given to him by none other than the man who had saved him. Given him something that he was missing. That which separates human's from solitary animals. Companionship.


Voban forced the minute trembling of his shoulder's to a halt as his eyes lay glued on the knight. The aura that the knight exuded was familiar to him, and yet his mind refused to process that fact.

A warmth had steadily began to encompass him through his duel with the knight, and in that one moment in time. At the instant of the explosion created by the knight's authority, the unexpected had happened. Throughout the battle, his wolf avatar granted to him by the Authority of Apollo, the heretic god he had slain, had kept the warmth at bay. And yet in his instant of weakness, it had entered him. Enveloped him in a familiar shroud of protection. He was being foolish and internally reprimanded himself. For he had willed away his wolf avatar so as to continue to be exposed to said warmth. A warmth he knew was associated with a solar Authority.

But, the warmth, it...He could not describe the multitude of old feelings suddenly welling up inside him. He was never a sociable individual. In fact, he had no friends. No pleasant acquaintances. Nothing but the undead in which he bound to himself, willing or not. So it was to be expected that he had no experience to fall back onto in the situation presented to him. He fell short. He did not know what to do with the emotions that so rarely surfaced from within him.

His mind shut down, blocking out his thoughts and his emotions; all but his most prominent: intellect, pride, and battle lust. And yet, he unconsciously reached for the warmth; emotions blocked or not. There was something there. Something he longed for. He would find out even if he fought without the use of his wolf avatar. It was after all "defeated." The knight had earned that victory through skill and planning. He would not sully the knight by denouncing the knight's victory to be a fluke. He is the oldest Campione, and he did have his pride.

If there was one thing he was positively sure of, it was fighting. For surely fighting would solve his problems.


Shirou watched as Voban turned his back towards him and walked a fair distance away before turning back to meet his gaze.

"As much as I enjoyed that conversation; I believe it is time to get things underway." Voban said. The vast blue sky within Camelot darkened; the wind picking up and creating silent ripples in the water.

A scent of fresh ozone created a pungent zing in Shirou's nostrils. A storm was coming. Clouds covered the sky and a shadow fell across the land. Streaks of lightning moved in and out of the nimbus clouds above; their movements erratic and repetitive.

The ground grew damp with the drizzle of rain. The rain drops gathering at the upper most part of grass, and leaves of bushes and trees before dripping down to sink beneath the soil.

Voban took a step forward and in a flash of lightning three majestic silhouettes manifested around him. Each were clad in attire of superior make. Each gave of the feel of warriors; their eyes never leaving Shirou's form.

One was blue. One was red. And the other was green. A trio they were; for each resembled the other in one way or another.

"Bo Feng, Yu Shi, and Lei Gong." Voban said as he extended his right arm forward in Shirou's direction. "Gods of weather."

Voban's shoulders trembled as he let out a small laugh.

"You should know what that means."

Sparks began gathering at Voban's extended hand before igniting and becoming an orb of pure lightning.

"Prepare yourself God of Steel."

A crack of thunder sounded up in the air as Shirou charged at Voban in hopes of subduing him before he could utilize his authority. And yet he knew that he was already too late and decided to prepare for a frontal assault.

The ball in Voban's extended hand was misleading however. in fact, the attack had not come from the expected front, but above him from the sky.

Pain shot through him as lightning flowed through his armor and electrified him; the armor being steel, a good conductor, not working in his favor. The smell of burnt flesh permeated through the air as Shirou laid smoking in a crater created from the blast of lightning. Dirt covered him, his limbs buried beneath it. Shakily, he stood up; the dirt falling off of him and forming a pile on the ground. His body ached all over; his muscles still tense from conducting electricity.

Shirou faced Voban who stood by the edge of the crater staring at him as the wounds he had been inflicted visibly healed. This wasn't the first time that Shirou found himself being thankful to his father Kiritsugu Emiya for implanting Avalon in him; the sheath having saved him numerous times on various occasions. And even now it had saved him again due to remaining active because of Arthur's presence.

"Passive regeneration I see." Voban muttered to himself as his eyes analyzed Shirou. "A troublesome ability."

Shirou stood fully recovered as he decided to retake the initiative. With a leap he landed out of the crater and made a beeline for Voban who retaliated by raising his palm again.

Lightning descended on Shirou as he weaved past the strikes that singed and pulverized the ground. Dirt flew everywhere as smoke joined with it and created a mosaic like miasma that scratched against the skin. Be that as it may, Shirou did not care as he pushed on through.

One particular shot of lightning grazed him and sent him spiraling to the left, but he managed to re-orientate himself and continue on with determination. It did not matter how many bolts of lightning the man threw at him. Shirou would reach him without doubt.

As Shirou drew near, a ginormous axe-sword appeared in his hand. It was not the average axe-sword for its length was larger than Shirou's body, and its composition did not seem to be made of fine metal, but rather of rock and earth. Similarly, it was not designed for the purpose of presentation, but of practicality. A practicality in which it excelled at.

With a burst of speed, Shirou was in range of Voban who raised an arm in defense. Subsequently, Shirou made eye contact with Voban's eyes.

"Eyes Of Sodom!" Voban yelled out as his eyes grew a deep green.

Nine Lives Blade Works!

Nine strikes. Each aimed for nine particular targets: the upper arm, collarbone, windpipe, temple, diaphragm, rib, testicles, thighs, and head simultaneously at "godspeed" faster than the speed of sound. Each blow with the power to crush a man ten fold. To grind their bones to dust as it inflicts blunt force trauma and lacerations from the serrated black edge of the blade. For all of its power, it simply had no name. It wasn't even considered a noble phantasm even though it possessed equal power to one. For though its power, its ability, stems from the Heroic Spirit Hercules, it is only but a terrifying technique. A technique befitting Hercules, the man who completed the twelve labours:

Slay the Nemean Lion.

Slay the nine-headed Lernaean Hydra.

Capture the Golden Hind of Artemis.

Capture the Erymanthian Boar.

Clean the Augean stables in a single day.

Slay the Stymphalian Birds.

Capture the Cretan Bull.

Steal the Mares of Diomedes.

Obtain the girdle of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons.

Obtain the cattle of the monster Geryon.

Steal the apples of the Hesperides.

Capture and bring back Cerberus.

Each labour was an arduous task and yet Hercules completed them all.

It was the slaying of the hydra in particular that gave birth to the technique, "Nine Lives." A technique granted to Shirou after structurally analyzing the axe-sword in which Hercules used. However, what Shirou knew was a only but a variation of "Nine Lives." be that as it may now found that he could now utilize the ninth strike in "Nine Lives Blade Works," whereas before he could only utilize eight strikes due to his body's limitations.

Shirou froze momentarily in shock as his arm wielding the axe-sword began to petrify, turning into salt for but a moment. Be that as it may, his activation of "Nine Lives Blade Works," was not cancelled, just hindered. That hindrance however had altered the speed of Shirou's attack.

The first blow had been quicker than the rest and so that first blow had saved Voban from the other eight debilitating strikes; as a result of the first blow sending him flying.

The tuxedo in which Voban wore, tore and ripped beyond recognition as he flew. Pieces of fabric fluttered haphazardly in the air as they sailed towards the ground.

As Voban rolled and tumbled over the vast expanse of Camelot, a rigid blue scarf fell from the tear in the man's tuxedo. The scarf was worn, old even; its deep blue already fading with the years. It caught in a branch of a tree and ripped in half due to the force in which the man was moving.

Shirou watched as Voban's eyes, even though he was still crashing through numerous obstacles remained on the torn scarf as it drifted to the ground.


"Here." The teen said as he gave him a rigid blue scarf. It wasn't really much in appearance, but it would serve its purpose. "It's not much, but it will help keep you warm."

"My thanks." He said as he took the scarf in his hands and stared at it.

"As fellow wanderers we have to look out for ourselves." The teen said as he looked ahead at the path in which they were walking on. From the tone of his voice, one could tell of the hesitation in which the teen possessed.

Was the scarf not good enough? Should he have focused on something bigger? The teen questioned himself as he noticed that the man he was talking to had still yet to answer.

"...Yes, as fellow wanderers." He draped the blue scarf over his neck. Something in which the teen saw.

The teen smiled while taking his hand to urge him to go faster. After all, it wasn't every day that charity groups gave out food. Moreover he had only ever been feeding the teen scavenged food, for he would not stoop himself to steal.


The sky grew darker. The wind became a tempest that threatened to uproot anything in sight. Thunder claps echoed for miles on end as lightning constantly struck at the ground. The world literally shook as Voban took up the pieces of the blue scarf in his hands and cradled it to his person. His eyes narrowed into fiery slits as he stared at Shirou. There would be hell to pay.

His arms burst out with fur as Voban returned into a beast. This time however, he was not as large, choosing instead to remain around two-and-a-half-meters in height. The beast now resembled a werewolf; for it stood upright with its hind legs.

"...You," Voban rasped in a hushed voice. The two halves of the blue scarf shook as the Voban's arms trembled minutely. "HOW DARE YOU!"

The clouds parted as a searing heat became apparent. Temperatures rose, the water in the lake began to bubble as steam hissed and began evaporating. A great fire began descending from the sky; its heat comparable to that of numerous suns. This was a flame meant for utter destruction. Utter eradication of life. This was a flame that can even incinerate gods.

As if responding to the Voban's fury, the mass of flame doubled in size; easily able to encompass a city, and it had yet to stop.

Breathing started to become laboured, the oxygen in the air depleting to fuel the massive flame.

Shirou stared at the approaching danger as sweat dripped from his brow. His armor clanked as he steeled himself.

"Arthur." Shirou prompted.

"Already on it."

Information began flowing through Shirou's head. Vast as it was, Shirou zeroed in on the necessary information and grasped it. Looking at it for what it was. What it will forever be.

Judging the concept of creation...

Hypothesizing the basic structure...

Duplicating the composition material...

Imitating the skill of its making...

Sympathizing with the experience of its growth...

Reproducing the accumulated years...

Excelling every manufacturing process...

Through each step, the weapon became more and more clear until it began to take form; its shape already manifesting in Shirou's hands.

"Trace on."


"Dear Lord." Andrea Rivera said as he began to panic while staring up at the sky; for it was dyed a crimson red. The Witches and Himo-Miko too, were beginning to panic; A couple of them even dropped to their knee's in apparent despair as the mass of flame neared them. Tears glistened in their eyes before cascading down their cheeks and onto the ground. They had been through far to much for any sane person to endure.

"Mr. Andrea." Liliana said as she rushed to Andrea. "Do you not possess any means to protect us?" Liliana had a frantic look on her face as she was constantly reminded more and more of the coming danger from the increased wails of sorrow around her. "You are a Great Knight after all."

Andrea opened his mouth to speak, but was beaten to it by the sound of another voice who's tone was one of complete calm.

"Fear not for thou art under the protection of mine king." An apparition of a knight said; its form slightly transparent as if it did not have the means to fully materialize. And yet it stood on two armored legs that were sleek and black in colour like the full set of armor in which it wore.

Andrea tensed and stared warily at the stranger that had appeared; the other Hime-Miko and Witches doing much the same.

The transparent knight looked up at the sky of flames before turning back to face the others. "Such a flame should produce higher temperature should it not?"

Now that Andrea thought about it, it should. Confusion began to descend within the crowd of Hime-Miko and Witches before it began turning into relief. Relief that was shattered as the mass of fire drew near.

"There is nothing to fear." The transparent knight said again. "Thou art under the protection of mine king."

Subsequently, a great light comparable to that of the sun illuminated the area. Shadows formed from the castle walls and loomed over head as all were temporarily blinded by its brilliance. And yet the light was but a counter product of its true nature, a devastating attack.


Shirou stabbed the holy sword in which he traced into the ground; its blade so sharp that it had no trouble digging through the rough dirt. The sword was pristine; giving off an air of radiance even as the world was dyed in deep orange. It simply maintained its appearance; the light from the fire over head doing nothing to hinder it.

At the base of the white tinted sword was a blue and silver hilt that seemed to emit light as if it contained it within.

Shirou nodded his head as he had made his preparations. Briefly, he willingly let himself drift within the conscience of his mind as he felt Arthur taking his place as the one in control.

Red hair with a few strands of blond turned completely blond with a few strands of red as amber eyes turned teal.

Arthur now had control of the body as Shirou took residence within his reality marble; he watching from within.

Arthur took a step towards the sword he and Shirou had projected and raised a hand to his chest while staring intently at said sword. A divine aura erupted from Arthur and burst out into the surroundings. The gentle yellow of Arthur's aura giving a stark contrast to the raging flames above.

"Oh holy knight of the sun. Who's strength slew armies. Who's loyalty never wavered even till my mine end. The friend of young knights. A defender of the people. Thy king calls upon thee to aid me once again." Arthur paused briefly and raised his gaze to bare witness to the majesty of the castle of Camelot before turning back to face the traced sword. "As a knight of the round! Answer the call of thy king!"

A shock wave of wind blew out; Arthur acting as its epicenter as the force generated by the winds blew any loose debris away. A transparent figure appeared and knelt towards Arthur; an arm was crossed over its body in a form of respect.

"Rise and take thy blade."

The figure rose and reached a hand for the handle of the traced sword. As the hand drew nearer to the sword, one could begin to make out the armour in which the figure wore.

An armoured hand griped the handle of the traced sword and in one swift motion, lifted it above a white armor plated shoulder.

"Knight Gawain answers thy call mine king." Gawain said as he peered intently at the traced blade.

"My King is this..." Gawain made a motion towards the traced sword.

"No, it is but a copy."

"A copy?" Gawain lifted the sword to his eye level. "Truly?"

Arthur nodded his head and cut straight to the chase. "I ask of thee to deal with the situation."

Gawain nodded in acknowledgment as he continued to stare at the blade in his hand. Tucking the blade to his side, Gawain knelt. "Be it man, beast, or demon, nothing will get in my way."

In a flash, Gawain stood up and faced the sky. An aura of power began surrounding him and converging at one point, the base of the traced sword. Soon after an additional blue energy soon flowed into Gawain as his attribute as the Knight of Maidens kicked in. For behind him lay the kingdom of Camelot that was housing the group of Hime-Miko and Witches. To add fuel to Gawain's growing aura, behind him also stood his king.

Placing both hands on the hilt of the traced sword, he brought his right foot forward. Dazzling light, comparable to that of the sun spewed forth from the traced blade. The earth around Gawain began to char as more and more energy channeled itself through said blade.

In one fluid motion, Gawain tossed the traced blade with a great heave of his arms into the sky. The traced blade stopped in the air as it produced a miniature sun that emitted dazzlingly bright rays of light. After a moment, the traced sword fell back into Gawains grasp. As Gawain draws the sword behind his back, an immense magic circle appeared around him with an image of a sun that could clearly be seen from within.

In one swift motion, Gawain swung with a motion like drawing a sword at the sky.

"Excalibur Galatine!"

All the pent up energy of the miniature sun over head was released in an attack that was not linear, but a wave of destructive energy. Energy in the form of fire; a super nova of heat comparable to the hell fire descending from the sky. Fire fell from the sky as another fire rose from the ground. One was larger, able encompass entire cities; the other was more concentrated, potent in its energy that spanned an area of three kilometers; blasting out in a broad wave, radiation attack that had the capability to annihilate entire armies.

The two fires clashed for dominance in the sky; the smaller fire, piercing a large hole into the other and erupting into a giant ball of fire that created a vortex in the air which spewed fire every where but the castle of Camelot.

The remaining fire that descended towards the ground scorched the very earth so much so that hard rocks began melting; flowing across the ground like magma and incinerating any living thing that may have survived. The area had become hell on earth except for the area in which the castle of Camelot stood.


"What a show off." The transparent knight said as it looked over Camelots walls along with the Hime-Miko, Witches, and Andrea who stood speechless. After all it wasn't very often that one could witness a battle between a Campione and a god without any repercussions.

"As I said," The transparent knight turned to face the others near him who still stood gawking. "You are under the protection of mine king."

Wordlessly, the transparent knight turned away from the group and walked back into the inner workings of the castle of Camelot. He walked fully knowing his destination near the heart of the castle; a room reserved for a knight such as he. After navigating through multiple corridors and grand hall-ways, he reached a large set of double doors; their wood, a dark coloured heavy oak with rings as door knobs. Upon reaching the door, he pushed it open to reveal a grand room, decorated with fine tapestries and maps for tactical strategy making.

In the center of the room was a large round table filled with other transparent knights. He strode to an open seat and sat down, his head held high, awaiting the summons of his king.


"It is done my king." Gawain said as he turned to face Arthur.

"Well done." Arthur said with a nod before he noticed Gawain's questioning gaze.

"Thou seems different my king." Gawain said as he felt the presence of Arthur. "The curse no longer effects thee."

"Yes, thou should already know the circumstances." Arthur said to Gawain as he stared warily at the burnt field where he last saw his opponent.

"That I do my king, but seeing is believing." Gawain said as he leaned against Excalibur Galatine that was pierced into the ground. "Doth thou require me to deal with that as well?" Gawain motioned towards Voban who appeared staring across from them a fair distance off.

"No, this is my duel." Arthur stared across at Gawain. "Thou should know that it would be cowardly to have thee fight in mine place."

"Understood my king," Gawain took a glance down at Excalibur Galatine. "Might I keep this sword? it seems to complete a piece of me; granting me the ability to take physical form."

"What do you think Shirou?" Arthur asked.

"It's fine with me. It's not like it would cause much harm." Shirou said.

"Very well Gawain, thou may keep the blade." Gawain nodded quite pleasantly as Voban charged at Arthur across the scorched field. "I bid thee farewell mine king."

Gawain vanished in a shower of light. Leaving Arthur to face the approaching Voban alone.


A moment passed as Gawain entered the room within the heart of Camelot. The room that contained the knights of the round. Different from the rest, he was no longer transparent as if Exaclibur Galatine, the sword by his side gave him a tie to the physical world. Such a thing made the other knights in the room increasingly confused and surprised.

"That blade." A transparent knight said. "I know that blade."

"As you should," Another transparent knight said. "Its power is not one that can simply be copied." The transparent knight turned towards Gawain. "Excalibur Galatine, the real blade?"

"No," Gawain said. "A copy as said by our king." Gawain looked around at the shocked faces of the other transparent knights. "It feels exactly like mine blade, and yet this blade did not take form by my will, my legend. But from the physical world as if mine blade had existed there all along."

"Such a thing should be impossible." A transparent knight said as it rubbed a thumb against its chin.

"And yet the impossible is in front of thy eyes." Another transparent knight said as it motioned for Gawain to take his seat.

"Is it really much of a surprise that our king can do the impossible?" The same transparent knight said.

There were no words to rebut the statement. All were in agreement.

"My question," Another transparent knight said. "Is this friend that our king hath spoken of."

"I concur." Another transparent knight said. "I grow curious how this friend hath stopped the curse of the heretic god."

"Our king trusts him, and as with our loyalty, we trust in our king's judgment." A transparent knight said resolutely.

No words were said, just resolute nods.


Voban charged across the expanse of scorched earth even as he realized that he had reverted into his wolf form. In that moment when the blue scarf, all that he had left of that particular man was torn in two, his mind had went blank as his anger erupted from the very bowls of his being. He would crush the two knights in front of him until nothing was left but two bloody mounds of meat.

He watched as the knight who had blocked his red punishment attack, vanished from sight; leaving him with only one target. The target of his rage.

upon arrival however, he reeled back in shock as a familiar pair of teal eyes stared questioningly at him. It wasn't long before his anger returned ten-fold as his mind refused to believe what was in front of him. There could only be one explanation.


"You dare imitate him!" Voban reverted back into a man. His suit was still torn as blood dripped down his torso. His eyes filled with blood lust as he stared at Arthur as if he was seeing a ghost. "You dare imitate Thurra!"

Arthur looked clearly at Voban as a final memory played through his head.


"It hath been seven years since we met child and thou still hast not told me of thy name." He said as he peered at the teen to his left. "Doth thou not trust me?"

"...Call me Sasha." The boy said after a while; his face turning a shade of red.

He smiled as the boy tried futilely to hide his embarrassment.

"Thou may call me Thurra." He said as a reflection of his appearance could be seen on the teen's eyes. Blond hair, teal eyes, a blue scarf, and the dirty rags that covered him. Dirty rags that represented his many years of wandering. His clothing beneath the rags were not visible.


"...Sasha." Arthur whispered under his breath. "What has happened to you?"

"Something wrong Arthur?" Shirou inquired as he heard Arthur muttering something.

"No. 'Twas but a memory." The memory ran itself again within Arthur's mind. "A memory of a boy I had once known..." Arthur stared at Sasha, the boy of his past before making up his mind. "Shirou, will thou let me face him?"

"I don't see why not."

Arthur made a motion towards Sasha and spoke. "Sasha-"

"Don't call me by that name as if you know me!" Sasha lashed out. "My name is Voban." Voban narrowed his eyes on Arthur. "There is only one who could call me by that name and your not him. He died centuries ago."

"It's me, Thurra." Arthur insisted as he brought an arm to his chest.

"Your not him." Voban insisted as a wild look seemed to enter his eyes. "And I, I will end you!"

Arthur stared downcast at the ground before he solidified his resolve. A fight was inevitable.

"Then I will prove it to thee that I am who I say I am." Arthur took up his sword and readied his stance as Voban glared at him.

Tensions rose between the two of them before a burnt tree toppled to the ground; signaling in the beginning of another battle.


Information on Noble phantasms from the Fate Wiki, and Souvikundo.

Details about Camelots effects will be explained as the series goes.

As for why the update took so long, I'm afraid that it's because of what we all know as the institution of learning.

On another note, for those of you who are following my other story, I have deleted a few chapters as I myself did not like the way things were going.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Fate series or Campione!

-Thanks for reading