A tale about a guy who wrote a novel about an edgy Self-Insert MC out of sheer boredom and got it recorded into human history, thus effectively plunging his weak ass into a battle of overpowered protagonists of every kind.
This once-Japanese story is brought to you lovely readers by the constant pestering from my dear friend, who insisted that this story would be too much of a waste to let it die in the crib.
Well. Here we go...!
There are always things in life that we wish we hadn't done.
For example, there are times when you get pumped up with that teenager hormones and go full edge-lord, or times where you mistake politeness for affection, and go all horny over a girl who apparently already has a boyfriend that could easily snap your spine in half. And there are also times when you drink too much, drive...and crash your brand-new car into a tree because you mistook it for a parking lot.
These are the times that you get caught in the hardships of life, and there is nothing you can do about it.
I have had such...enlightening experiences. It's called 'A Stroke of Pure Stupidity'.
In order to first talk about it, I guess I should tell you a little about myself.
I was a reincarnated person, a college student who turned 20 in 2016. I don't remember how I was reincarnated, but I must have been hit by a truck or something...you know, the famous isekai delivery service. Anyway, one day in 2016, I was reincarnated into the past.
I'm not sure what time it was. I think it was...very ancient. It was an age where mystical concepts such as witchcraft and demons were commonplace. It was an age where everyone accepted these things without feeling even slightly uncomfortable.
I was born as the son of a townsman, and that's how I grew up. For a reincarnated person, my life was quite simple, or rather, I had surprisingly little things to do. My family was neither rich nor poor, and so I lived an ordinary life, though somewhat boring from my modern perspective.
To be honest, when I was over 30 years old, I had almost forgotten that I was a reincarnated person.
Well, that's all good. A humble story, but it can't be helped. I didn't have any special abilities or anything like that. Instead, at least I had a peaceful life. A simple life, a simple death. That was the way it was supposed to be.
But then... One day, out of the blue, I had a very sudden and stupid idea. Because of that, I've done what I should not have done, as I said at the beginning.
At that time, I thought, "Oh, I'm a genius!". Oh, how wrong I was.
It all started out as a small prank.
That flash of genius was to write my own autobiography. No, I get it. You're probably thinking, 'What could a guy who hasn't done much leave in an autobiography?'. Yeah, that's right. That's exactly what I was thinking even when I came up with the idea.
There's no point in writing about my life as it really is. I knew that, too.
But at the same time, I also knew that even in the future, there was no way for anyone to actually check out the past.
That meant that no matter what I wrote in my autobiography, people would not be able to confirm its authenticity.
When I came to this realization, I regained my fragile self-awareness as a reincarnated person, and I thought to myself; "I want to etch my name into history as a hero for future generations".
My actions were swift. I spent my entire fortune buying an expensive magically charmed recording medium and wrote my story into it. I used my own name, but of course, the hero written on it was anything but me.
I wanted that hero to be absolutely badass, and I wrote about him as if he had actually existed in that era.
It's an autobiography in the sense that I wrote it, but in reality, it's more of a 'third person's record'. The story proceeds in the form of a record by an unnamed person who wanted to write about the activities of the hero (me).
To be honest, I'm not a good writer, but I'm glad it came out ok. In any case, it felt good to have the feeling of accomplishment that an amateur tried his best to write something down, even if it was a light novel about an edgy SI.
Anyway, I was okay with the 'Bad guy appears and everyone is in trouble, so the hero (me) takes him on mano a mano and everyone lives happily ever after!' trope.
However, it would have been boring if that was the only thing that happened, so I made up various hardships (quests), and the heroes solved everything with their power of love and wisdom, blah blah blah, thus coming to a grand conclusion.
In the end, the sorcerer who was the ultimate abomination of evil appeared; an overlord who can dry up the oceans, drop a meteorite that can wipe out the human race, and also stop time. He and the hero end up fighting each other, and the hero manages to overcome him with the price of his own life. Although peace has come to the world, there is no one who remembers the hero except the writer of the story...and thus ends my novel.
Otherwise, it would have been unnatural for my name not to appear once in the documents and records of the same period this was written.
Of course, if people knew that I was writing such a thing, they would definitely think I was crazy, so I added a note at the end saying, "This record shall be sealed until the fated time," and then put it in a metal capsule and buried it deep underground.
'Well, it's not really that dramatic, so future generations will think this as a silly fairy tale, but at least it gives them hope that there might have been a hero this great', I mused.
'Hopefully, they might even respect me a little.'
With such a future in mind, I sealed the story.
I was a fucking idiot.
And so, this is the record of my reincarnation. If you're thinking, "What a stupid thing to do," you're wise.
If you're thinking, 'I might want to try that ...' you should commit seppuku. This is my advice as an expert.
You should definitely not do this. If you don't, you'll end up with a tragedy like mine.
What tragedy, you ask? Well...how does...
Summoned as a fake heroic spirit for the Holy Grail war, strike you?
"From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three greet words of power-"
There was a sensation. A feeling of success, a feeling that cannot be described by words. As if a harbinger of a mighty spirit, a azure bolt of lightning shot out from the magic circle that was said to summon heroes of the dead to this world.
"-Come forth from the ring of restraints, O' Holy Protector of Balance! "
The mana was rapidly being sucked out from his body. As if to compensate for it, the foul insects in his body run rampant, devouring his flesh in a frenzied glee. The torture was so intense that it was difficult to even describe it as pain, so grueling that he came close to death from the sensation alone.
However, the price was certainly worth it. As his consciousness and vision faded, he saw someone standing in front of him. A man, that was not there a moment ago.
"It's a success...!"
That was all he managed to say. Even though he has yet to set foot onto the battlefield, his body was already so worn out that he couldn't even twitch.
He planted the palms of his hands onto the floor and desperately tried to stand up, only to fail miserably. As he fell to the ground, his chest slammed against the cold stone floor, knocking out a mouthful of blood from his lungs.
"Hmm...it seems like you indeed succeeded in summoning something..."
Zouken, who has been observing the entire spectacle from behind until now, stepped forward with a sick smile plastered onto his withered pale face. The ancient man looked up at the heroic spirit with a look of scrutiny, then shook his head with a sigh of disappointment.
"I can't feel any power from this thing. A third-rate mage would fare better."
At these words, Kariya's mind turned blank for a moment. No way, did he fail? No, the summoning was definitely done. If so, why...?
"Ah...I see. It is true that I am no different from a mere mortal as right now. That vermin...his curses still linger upon me, even in death."
The Servant opened his mouth, without regard to the old man that seemed to be judging him. He had a deep, powerful voice, but with a hint of tenderness in it. It was like the voice of a...father. For Kariya, her father was, at least on the outside, was that abomination of an old man. However, from this heroic spirit, he could feel the warmth only a 'father' could omit, a soothing aura that distorted and depressing thoughts cannot hope to penetrate.
The Servant who was described by Zouken as 'no better than a third-rate magician' slowly approached Kariya and knelt on one knee. He raised his hand with a reassuring smile and gently stroked the part of Kariya's face that was now deformed and paralyzed.
"My Master. Vengeance, regret, and compassion are swirling within your frail body. If you can be saved from this distortion by obtaining the Holy Grail, I shall help you to the end. What is your name?"
There was something in his voice that Kariya couldn't resist, something that coaxed him to obey. Strangely enough, it also gave him strength. Without realizing it, Kariya had raised his body and looked up at his Servant.
"I'm Kariya ... In this war, I must get the Holy Grail. I don't have much time left. Servant, I want to know your name too."
Surprisingly for Kariya, it was not hard at all to open his mouth. As if a faint fire had been lit in the depths of his cold body, warmth filled his fingertips. 'It's definitely thanks to this man', Kariya thought. It didn't look like he was using magic, but he could definitely feel it.
The man fell silent at Kariya's words for a short time.
"Didn't you summon me because you wanted to? I thought you used a catalyst to summon me."
'No, I chose the Berserker Servant', he started to say, and then he noticed the anomaly.
The man in front of him, no matter how he looked at it, was not a Berserker. And for some reason, the ability given to the Masters to see their Servant's status was not functioning. Rather than a haze, the information seemed to have been completely locked out from the very start.
Kariya thought that if they could talk to each other, then he must have a low skill rank in madness, but he couldn't confirm that either.
"No, ... I was going to call Berserker. I'm sure that I provided the catalyst to call Sir Lancelot."
"I'm sorry, but I'm not this Sir Lancelot. In addition, I'm not a Berserker."
Kariya let out a disappointed sigh. He immediately realized his rudeness and rushed to apologize. It's a terrible insult to be disappointed just because it wasn't the Servant he was aiming for, and after you summoned it for your own convenience, that is. In the end, the responsibility lay within Kariya himself.
His Servant seemed to be rather tolerant in nature, and waved his hand, telling Kariya not to worry about it. It was a gesture like that of a modern person. However, even such a light-hearted gesture seemed to have a hint of dignity when he did it.
Kariya was still not sure what kind of heroic spirit he is, or from what era he came from.
At any rate, seeing that Kariya and the Servant were building up a somewhat relaxed atmosphere, the old abomination, which seemed to be irritated by the mere fact that they were amicably talking with each other, said, "I even helped you prepare the catalyst. Yet...". Zouken sneered in disgust.
"I'm not even sure what to make of this farce." the ancient man venomously spat out. "Even with the catalyst, you can't summon the Heroic Spirit you wanted, and the Servant you did manage to summon is of the lowest rank. I knew it was a mistake to spend even a little time on you. A failure such as you should have died a meaningless death at the end of a meaningless life, as a failure should have."
The Servant gently stopped Kariya, who was about to shout back at the brazen insult. And when he saw his Servant bowing to the old worm, he became even angrier.
No matter what kind of Heroic Spirit one was, they are heroes recognized by the people. It's not something that an outsider like that old worm should take lightly. He clenched his fists as if he was about to give that ancient man a good beating, and then relaxed them.
It was pointless. This demon could not be slain by such physical means. It would only lead to ridicule and unnecessary effort. Now, Kariya was not in perfect condition, and even if he was, it would still be meaningless.
He felt angry at the old man, and disgust at himself at how he obeys this demon's orders.
After spitting out a few more insults, Zouken left the warehouse. Kariya was rather upset, but the man who was looking at him with a caring gaze quickly brought him back to his senses. Kariya took a deep breath. That's right, he shouldn't be upset because of that worm. That monster revels in emotions such as anger and despair more than anything else.
Cursing him would just most likely provide more entertainment for his twisted mind. Realizing this, Kariya cooled down.
As his ire subsided, he finally realized that there was something he hadn't yet checked because of all the confusion.
"That's right. I haven't heard your name yet. ... I hope it's a hero I know."
The man laughed dryly. He seemed to be indicating that it was a foolish question, but he also seemed to be hiding something else.
"I've only been here a short time. I don't really know how much I'm known in this world, but I'll tell you my name anyway."
He held out his hand to him. After a moment, Kariya realized that it was a handshake, and he quickly accepted it. It was a large hand. The skin was thick and craggy, and there were countless scars, both deep and shallow, etched all over it. It was a hand of a warrior.
"My name is Halmeus. I have been summoned unto this world as Servant of class-."
What class did he just say? The voice was blurred as if there was heavy static in his voice.
He tried to ask, but all that actually came out from his mouth was a groaning sound that wasn't even a word. His throat twitched and he felt like he was suffocating.
Wait...what name did this man call himself? Didn't he say his name was Halmeus? No, that's ridiculous. That's not possible. From a historical, scientific, and magical point of view, wasn't that legend said to be a creation? Wasn't it a miraculous historical fiction, the result of an old civilization passing down legends through the generations until it became full of errors?
"...A lie. It's a lie. It's...you're supposed to be a creation. It was a great prank by our predecessors. If it wasn't, it wouldn't have been ...possible. Please. Tell me your real name."
Kariya felt dizzy. Halmeus. There was no way he was a real person.
As if to answer the confusion swirling around in his head, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration.
Kariya remembered what Zouken had told him.
"The old worm had said, 'Those who are summoned as heroes include fictional characters.' If that's the case, it's not impossible that someone named Harmeus could be summoned...!"
"I see. I'm not sure what to make of that. But I can tell you this truth; I definitely am a real person. Everything from my time seems to have been lost in this world, so little wonder many think my legend might be a farce."
The hero said that Halmeus did exist. Kariya's eyes widened.
A being that was supposed to be a dweller of fairy tales ...no, but...how...?
A human can find a lot of things they can do to make life easier. One of them, is the sweet bliss of sleep.
Kariya fainted, and collapsed onto the cellar floor.
Halmeus' stats are mostly D, with his luck being E minus. Welp. Oh, he has no noble phantasm either. Yikes. He's weaker than Angra Mainyu. Absolute Death Flag. Not to mention the fact that most heroic spirits are his fanboy/girl.
Thus, starts the tale of Survival with a silver tongue. Pls review! Your feedback is most welcome!
X-kalibuuuur, over and out!