Very little information is known about the whereabouts, or even the true nature of the Heretic God that has been speculated to have appeared from around two miles south of the Mátra mountain range in northern Hungary.
Though it is said that in a Heretic God's wake, only disaster and suffering would lay ahead, this is most certainly not the case in this instance; no such notifications of damaged property, or casualties for that matter have been reported. Moreover, it seems as if this god in particular brings about good fortune to those in which it stumbles upon; based on the words of the poor that said Heretic God had assisted and the sick in which it healed.
In peculiar, was the testimony of a boy no older than five. Acquaintances of the boy before his miraculous healing, had stated that his condition was far from the best. Simple itches that soon manifested into open sores that began to fester with disease. A disease that the poor knew as Ördög Pestis, Devil's Plague. Far from the ominosity of the name, the disease was really Erysipelas that had taken root from the sores created through over scratching. Erysipelas is a bacterial infection in the upper layer of your skin that if left untreated for too long can be fatal. And a fatality it would have been if not for the Heratic God that had visited.
Locals who had witnessed the event described it as the return of savior, of a new saint that would guide them to the righteous path. The boy however, when questioned, chose a different term in which to call the Heretic God. It was not a saint. Nor was it a savior. But rather, a hero.
A Heroic God? The notion of such a thing had completely obliterated what little preconceptions that had been formed about the identity of this mysterious Heretic God. Therefore it was best that more evidence be obtained, studied, and be dealt with accordingly.
It was intriguing in a sense. Why would a Heretic God go out of his way to provide help to those in need? That was the true question, and it may perhaps be the answer to said Heretic God's true identity.
All that is known as of recent is that the Heretic God was last seen roaming near the area governed by Marquis Voban, the oldest Campione...
-Paolo Blandeli of the magic society "Copper-Black Cross."
"Bless your soul." A poor woman cried out as she held the package of food he had gathered for her tightly to her chest while she cried out tears of gratitude. Inside the package was an assortment of fresh fruit and vegetables along with many items of non perishable food. "Please, take this." The woman held out a frail hand containing what few coins she had to offer; which wasn't much. The amount however, would be enough to purchase one meal.
A strong, broad hand gently placed itself over the woman's outstretched one and gently closed it back into a fist; the warmth of the hand sending a pleasant soothing feeling through the woman's body that eased her worries.
"Thank you, but you need it more than I." Shirou said as he let go of the woman's hand and walked away; leaving the woman and her family beside her speechless. Speechless as they were, they had still attempted to reach out to him, to draw upon the warmth that he unknowingly emanated. Yet he had already left on reinforced legs; disappearing into the distant wilderness as if he was never there and not hearing the final opinions of the family he had just left.
"Thou art honorable." A voice said from within his mind. A mind that was no longer simply occupied by his thoughts alone, but rather housed the thoughts of another as well; however separate these thoughts may be in comparison to each other. It was like halving two heads in one, or souls in this particular case that could communicate to one another, yet did not have the ability to pry into one another's thoughts. In other words, a very special kind of situation.
"It's what anyone else would have done." He said mentally through the connection that had been established by Arthur a day after they had exited the cave; talking to the air would have become a problem.
"Nay. Any lesser man or woman would not have gone out of their way to aid a starving family."
"Then the world is full of greater men and woman, Arthur."
"Hahahahah." Arthur laughed amusedly; his laughs coming out in small guffaws. "Optimism can only lead one so far, but I like it."
Shirou began walking towards Miskolc, the nearest city that he hoped would have an air port to travel back to Japan from the forest he was in; he had gotten directions from the people who he had helped out, yet he did not stay very long after; unintentionally and unawarely leaving behind a deep impression into the hearts of those he had saved.
As Shirou continued on through the woods that he was currently in, a feeling of sudden trepidation suddenly over came him; stopping him in his tracks. Trepidation however, was soon replaced by a different more primal feeling, fight or flight. He saw rather than felt his body begin tensing up as divine energy began leaking into the air from it. Illuminating the scenery around him in radiant gold and acting as a beacon that drew the attention of nearby animals towards him, but at the same time compelled them to flee.
It has always been said that animals knew the signs of coming danger, almost as if it was a sixth sense. Whether it was a bird that would hunker down before a big storm, or a shark that would flee into deeper water just before a large hurricane hit, they all seem to just simply know. And it was that knowing that drove them to flee and not look back as the glow from Shirou's body began diminishing into a light sheen that coated his body; acting like a defensive membrane.
Within Shirou's soul, Arthur sat within the Unlimited Blade Works, his back against the sword most familiar to him. Familiar in the sense that it was the sword in which he wielded, yet at the same time was not. Just as the sheath that he had initially assumed was his, was simply not. The sheath, Avalon, was in fact an actual physical item, a real Avalon; different from the one he possessed as an authority that was based on his legend. Yet, could he not say the same for the vast armory he found himself within? No he could not. Avalon, his sheath was the only real physical item in this world within Shirou's soul; the rest were simply manifestations of said soul. A soul in which he now inhibits. Though through some act of sorcery, or magic in this case, Shirou Emiya can physically form any of these weapons in this vast armory into physical form; including Avalon which in most cases was a "Projected" copy, based on what Shirou had said. Then again, it wasn't that hard to believe since he had glimpsed the memories of said Shirou Emiya.
Suddenly and instinctively, Arthur stood up, his eyes suddenly narrowed and his godly power bursting forth in waves which transferred over to Shirou. However, he reeled in his energy as he realized that it would only draw the approaching danger towards him and Shirou's exact location.
"Shirou, I sense the presence of a Campione, a god's natural enemy."
"Campione?" Shirou thought confusedly.
"A Campione – a Godslayer – is a supreme ruler."
Images of past Campiones destroying other Heretic God's filtered through Arthur's mind; making him remember what it was he fought for in the olden days before his mind began succumbing to the pleasant whispers of rebellion. A rebellion towards his own myth, his legend. In the end it would have drove him to become a malevolent god that would harm the masses, a Heretic God. His honor, his chivalry, and his right of kingship would not allow such a travesty; and so he locked himself away.
"Since he can kill a celestial being, he can therefore call on the sacrosanct, divine powers wielded by the gods."
Battles against past Campiones Arthur fought against came to the forefront of his mind. Battles in which Campiones demonstrated the power usurped by the gods they had slain; flaunting it carelessly for all to witness, and for all to know. Causing severe damage to the environment, wild life, and people around the general vicinity.
"A Campione – a Godslayer – is a lord. Since the power to kill a deity is in his hands, he therefore looms over all mortals on Earth."
Arthur remembered a Campione that built an empire through fear, charisma, strength, and fortitude. An empire that erected many monuments and feats of architecture to the best of its time. An empire that was called Rome. Its borders were vast. Its streets full of the bustling of the common wealth that hailed the Campione's name. All had flocked to Rome to witness the best luxuries of the time period. Whether it was the aristocratic tapestries and buildings, or to experience the commodities it offered. The Campione ruled them all.
"A Campione – a Godslayer – is a devil. Since of all mortals who live in the world, none can assume a power to match his."
Finally, Arthur remembered the futility of man as they amassed an army to oppose a Campione's tyrannical rule. Legions of men and women had taken up arms. Farmers, knights, house wives...and even children no older than seven. Legions of voices, multitudes of dreams for better days, yet all were crushed by the sheer might of the Campione and his Authorities. The sky had dimmed that day as down on the ground, were the remains of dreams, grinding footsteps of the few that had survived, and the souls chagrin at the bitterness of the result. Man would forever remember the fruitlessness of the rebellion that had occurred that day; to never oppose the might of Campiones.
"That's...unreal." Shirou thought in disbelief, but then again, hadn't he witnessed or experienced first hand what other's would consider unreal?
"'Tis very real Shirou, but that's not what's important right now." Shirou felt Arthur gathering energy within him. "We must escape, thou art not yet ready to face a Campione. Not without mine powers, not without mine Authorities, and most certainly, not without the proper experience."
Shirou nodded his head to convey that he was listening as he thought about what he would do if he encountered a Campione. Would he fight with the armory he had acquired from Gilgamesh and Archer using Arthur's power to fuel his projections? Or would he rely on the power that Arthur spoke of. Either way, he would be forced to fight.
As Shirou continued to listen, Arthur willed the power he had been releasing and gathered it in his palm before shattering it and sending the power through Shirou's body.
"Let mine words of power flow through thee Shirou, and thou shall witness the divinity of a god."
"Understood." Shirou replied as words in which he had never known flashed through his mind; compelling him to actualize them, to give them release. And so he did, placing his trust in the god that saved him.
"Oh noble stallion clad in steal and decor that reflects thy elegance and ranking; who's speed was unmatched by any other stallion regardless of the burden that thou bared on our travels. I beseech thee! Come and aid thy master once more!"
The scenery around Shirou began distorting as a violent wind blew dust and loose gravel into a swirl in the air. Subsequently, a shock wave of divine power burst forth, rocking the trees and shrubberies violently around them. Tree's were uprooted, dirt flung in all directions, leaving behind a small clearing where he stood. From the rift that formed from the distortion of the space around him, stepped out a stallion who's body emanated an ethereal white hue. Who's hooves impacted heavily against the ground, but left no traces of any impressions even as the steel armor equipped over it added a great deal of weight to the stallion's already bulky mass. Steal armor that had elegant tapestries that were shades of royal purple, oranges, and deep blues. Most noticeable however, was the flag of a dragon in which it flew. The stallion's name is Hengroen, a mount of Arthur.
"It hath been a while old friend." Arthur said from within Shirou as Hengroen regarded them before adjusting itself so that Shirou may climb onto it.
A great howl is heard in the distance as the moon over head sends its rays to illuminate the surrounding scenery. Giving light to the disturbed area around Shirou that was caused by summoning Hengroen.
"Make haste Shirou! The enemy approaches!"
"Got it." Shirou mounted Hengroen taking a moment to properly position himself on the saddle on Hengroen's back; or at least position himself to what felt comfortable to him.
Hengroen neighed as it stood to its full height before speeding off through the wilderness at such a speed that the scenery became but a blur to mortal eyes. Yet this was not so for Shirou who simply saw things as they were, regardless of the speed in which Hengroen ran. For his eyes were no longer simply that of a mortals, but of a god. A god who owns Hengroen. As such, it would not due for the very rider to not be able to see his surroundings and guide Hengroen to the proper destination.
The sounds of foot steps and even panting invade Shirou's ears; causing him to tense his body in preparation for anything. He did not expect that anything however, to be in the form of several pack wolves hot on his heels. Their jaws unhinged, saliva dripping down to the earth, and eyes narrowed in insatiable hunger. A hunger he knew he did not wish to satiate.
Oddly, the wolves were able to keep up or at least continue to tail Hengroen even if he moved at such an incredibly fast speed.
"Divine Beasts" Arthur said. "Spirits in the form of animals that serve a god or goddess, but in this case, a Campione."
"What should we do?"
"Destroying them would be for the best, but distracting them would suffice. For as long as they continue to chase us, the Campione will never stop his pursuit; being as they often act as messengers."
Shirou nodded his head before he began to focus within himself to bring about his magic, his magecraft. An imaginary gun cocked itself within his mind, loading itself to be prepared for use. His circuits thrummed with prana and the divinity of a god; the energy so great that it threatened to burst out from the seems,
"Trace On."
From within the Unlimited Blade Works, Arthur watched curiously as weapons that he had gotten accustomed to seeing, suddenly vanished into particles that glittered before completely fading. Fading, but at the same time reforming in the material realm, the outside world; suspended within the air. Oddly enough however, they instantly reformed within the Unlimited Blade Works even as copies continued to exist in the mortal realm. Copies that he knew were called projections from the memories he had glimpsed from Shirou. He internally marveled at the sight of such "steel". A steel that he believed can one day rival the mysterious god said to be of the strongest steel. For that god's steel though unbelievably strong, when compared to an entire world of steel filled with various weapons of various legends and myths, was simply one against an army. Of course he was not implying that Shirou was at the level of said god that manifests at the World's End, no; he was not at that level yet. But surely one day he will. And he would be the first to witness it.
Shirou locked eyes with the wolf at the front of the pack chasing after him as he estimated that he had traced the necessary amount of weaponry into the air. The air around him had become littered with countless weapons of all sorts. From the smallest daggers, to spears, to blades, all were accounted for. All were imbued with the divinity of a god of steel, escalating their overall effectiveness as nameless weaponry, into divine weaponry that would surely be able to slay divine beasts.
He willed them to strike. To pulverize the divine wolves hot on his tail. As to obey his will, the weaponry he had traced above him turned to face the wolves and shot off in a torrent of steel. A torrent that moved at a faster rate then what the wolves could dodge. Against such steel moving at such speed, the divine wolves could only howl in anguish as blades, daggers, and spears pierced and ripped through their body's; breaking bones, puncturing flesh, and eviscerating them by cutting through their soft under bellies. Yet not all were killed. Through some form of luck, or self preservation skills found in all living beings, they had used their surroundings to their advantage. Rapidly moving to the left or right, behind trees or large boulders that slowed the speed of the coming projectiles; some even using the bodies of those that had already died and were beginning to fade away.
As a result of the divine wolves actions however, precious time had been wasted. Time that would cost them their pray as Shirou, on Hengroen, shot off into the distance and in a superior burst of speed, disappeared from sight through a portal that had appeared from thin air; just barely escaping the edge of a large elongated sword that struck at the area Shirou would have been in the next millisecond.
The lead wolf that had been guiding the pack of wolves, snarled in frustration as a man materialized beside said wolf. His face too was one of distaste as he knew that he had let escape a god that would have provided him an exhilarating battle; if the sheer influx of divine power he had felt was accurate.
The bottom of the black trench coat the man wore fluttered to the sway of the wind that began to pick up from the anger that he was releasing; his power over the domain of the elements of the sky having much to do with it. Said sky darkened as storm clouds formed over head; ominous streaks of lightning pulsing through them. The man, or better known as the count, Marquis Voban the oldest Campione, was not amused. Not in the slightest.
"My my, it seems I missed the party old man." A young man with blond hair said as he strode in from the side behind a bundle of trees holding a sword loosely over his right shoulder. The man had sunglasses on his head and wore an open blue polo shirt accompanied with a grey pair of pants held up by a brown leather belt. Around his neck was a gold circular pendant. This man's name is Salvatore Doni, the sixth Campione.
"Ah, I had heard there was now a sixth Campione. I presume that's you?" Voban said as he looked down upon Doni.
"Yup. That's me, Salvator Doni." Doni said without a care before his eyes narrowed in challenge. "And you. You would steal a god from me in my vicinity; this fair area of Italy in which I now govern."
"A god that was fleeing from my domain of Hungary, yes."
"That doesn't change the fact that it was in my area of governing." Doni said as he pouted, relaxing himself in Voban presence; regardless of the building energy around him because so to was he building up his own energy.
Voban narrowed his eyes that hid the building anger within him. Anger at the audacity of Salvatore Doni who would dare to attempt to provoke him. To even insinuate challenging him. To him, Salvator Doni, was but a child taking his first few steps as a king. A child who was green behind the ears and does not yet know of the natural order. A child who would need to know its place. He had built up his power as he was chasing the Heretic God, but now it would seem that power would have to be directed elsewhere. His eyes glowed green as the storm clouds over head increased in ferocity and his wolves bared their fangs at Doni. Behind him, a legion of undead rose from the ground; skeletal armored hands breaking through the grounds surface and forcing their way out. Along with them came threatening skull visages, their sockets for eyes pitch black, their noses non-existent.
In response, Salvatore Doni simply raised his sword and magical power; opting to solve his problems like he always has, through his blade.
"There is a certain pecking order that is not stated but simply known boy, and you are currently at the very bottom." Voban's undead army walked up to stand guard in front of him, waiting for the order to move out. "Yet I as a senior king, will pardon this transgression if you are able to entertain me till sunrise."
Doni smiled in anticipation of a challenge; one where his life could potentially be at stake.
"Entertain me, boy!" Voban released the hold he had on his authorities and let them loose on Doni.
It would be another seven hours until sunrise. Seven hours of constant collateral damage and violent environmental shifts. This was a fight between beings that had ascended past the mortal realm. Of beings so rare that only six currently exist in the world. This was a battle between kings. This was a battle between lords. But most of all, this was a battle between Campiones, godslayer.
"Where are we Arthur?" Shirou asked as he looked around the area he was currently in; a mountain in some unknown location. After jumping through the portal that Arthur had created to escape their pursuers, he had ended up here; deep in the mountains filled with lush greenery and the earthen smell of soil and trees. Beside him was a small stream that lead up to a small house further up its length.
"A place I hath not been in centuries. A place called the Netherworld, the boundary of life and immortality." Arthur said as Shirou decided to venture towards the only house he could see.
"The Netherworld?"
"A place where gods who have had enough of the constant fighting in the mortal realm take shelter in."
"A place of peace then."
"It can be thought of as such. Speaking of which, I don't think we are at the intended plane of the Netherworld that I was hoping for, but I don't have enough energy to transport us elsewhere so this will suffice." Arthur said from within Shirou's mind before he paused for a moment before proceeding. "We shall train in this domain for a couple of years to better equip thou for battles against Campiones or even fellow gods."
"Am I that helpless in battle?"
"It's not that thou art helpless. It's simply because thou have yet to earn the proper experience to combat against such foes who can cause catastrophes on a whim. Secondly, thou doesn't have full control of mine Authorities, a god's power."
"Point taken."
"Since we didn't arrive at the intended area, we must gain permission from the god who governs this domain to reside here for the time being. I believe that said god is within this house you are at."
Shirou paused for a moment as he was about to knock on the house's door before knocking anyway when he realized that he would have to do so anyway at some point.
"Enter." An old gruff voice said.
Hesitating for but a moment, Shirou pushed the door in and entered. Inside sat a man tending to a pot of some kind while leisurely pouring himself a saucer of sake. The man had a mane of black hair along with a long scruffy beard that reached down to his collarbone. As for attire, he wore a white colored open yukata that matched his white pants and long sash. Around his neck was a large beaded necklace.
Beside said man, was a women with beauty beyond mortal comprehension; sitting in the most proper manor, back straight and curiously gazing towards Shirou. She wore a brilliantly colorful juunihitoe style kimono that fit her body as if it was custom tailored for her. Possessing a head of brown hair and skin as smooth as ivory, she delicately bowed her head down to Shirou in a form of greeting. As she raised her head however, their eyes met. One, auburn in color, while the other was simply crystal clear, like glass.
"Welcome." The girl with the eyes of glass said. "Please take a seat. It would be rude to make you stand for the entire time."
Graciously, Shirou sat down next to what seemed like a mummified monk. Said mummified monk, surprisingly turned to face him.
"Weeell hellooo fellow god." It said. "What brings you here?"
Shirou stared back stiffly until he formed a response within his head. "I wish to talk with the owner of this domain." He said as he stared at the occupants of the room.
"That would be me, Susanoo, god of the sea and storms." Said the man drinking sake from a saucer as he pointed to himself with his thumb. "What is it that you want to talk about?"
"Shirou, I think it would be best if thou were to repeat after me." Arthur said. "I have an idea in mind."
"It's fine. I trust you."
Shirou met Susanoo's gaze head on and bowed his head in a show of respect.
"I seek refuge away from the mortal realm." Shirou said as he positioned his hands in front of him. "I have just awakened from a centuries old slumber and am greatly weakened."
Susanoo laughed heartily before taking in Shirou's entire appearance.
"If the amount of divine energy you contain is weak, then I suppose I've been weak for my entire life time."
"You misunderstand me. It's not my divine energy that is weak, it's my current battle prowess." Susanoo raised an eyebrow as he placed his saucer of sake down. "I cannot explain it in great detail, but in my long slumber, my control over my Authorities has somehow deteriorated. And as such, I just need time to readjust them back to how they were before. Time in which I wish to remain here."
"And you would use your power to...?" The girl with the eyes of glass said.
"Help the people." Shirou said as the girl with the eyes of glass smiled radiantly at him in approval.
"Wow. Now I've seen it all. A god of the people huh?" Said the mummified monk. "Wonder how long that will last?"
"I don't go back on my word." Shirou said calmly. He would never forsake his ideals.
"As you are now, I would believe you." The mummified monk said as he turned to face Shirou. "What you will become later however, is a bit iffy."
"What does he mean Arthur?" Shirou asked Arthur.
"I'll explain later. For now we must continue the conversation."
Deciding to forego his questioning Shirou turned to the mummified monk as directed by Arthur.
"If you are talking about the curse of madness, then I'm glad to say that I'm wholly unaffected." Shirou said as he continued to repeat Arthur word for word; not really understanding what it was he was saying.
The room became silent. Even the fire under the pot not making a single noise. Silent as it was, Shirou bared with it, waiting for the reactions of those present within the room who were all staring at him. Who were all lost in thought.
"A rather bold deceleration if I must say." Susanoo said after a minute or two. "But where is the proof of such words?"
"The proof lies within the fact that I am currently speaking to you and not causing a havoc in the mortal realm."
"And pray tell us of your reasoning." Susanoo said even as the shifting of his eyes showed that he already understood.
"The fact that I didn't seek battle after my awakening and chose to travel here; a realm where Heretic Gods go after they have grown tired of their time in the mortal world. A feat mind you, that one affected by the curse of madness would not do." Shirou paused for a moment before turning to face Susanoo once more. "I will ask once more. May I temporarily remain in this domain?"
There was another silence before Susanoo let out a laugh. "I like you. What is your name fellow god?"
Shirou took a moment to think about this. Should he call himself Arthur? Or should he stick with his own name?
"Stick with thy own name." Arthur decided for him. "It's thou who is in control of this body. And it's thou who keeps away the curse of madness. Thou hast earned the right."
"Shirou Emiya." Shirou said.
"Hmm. I have never heard of such a god, but perhaps you are just a recent one." Susanoo stood up and positioned himself in front of Shirou. "Shirou Emiya, as master of this domain, I grant you permission to stay until such a time that you have regained the full use of your Authorities."
A small flash, dyed the area in white before clearing to reveal a mark of some sort on Shirou's hand.
"A symbol of my acceptance." Susanoo said as he sat back down to drink sake again.
Shirou nodded his head before deciding to venture outside and get a lay of the land.
Susanoo stared at Shirou as he left the house; he would have to keep an eye on him.
Shirou awoke to the world of his soul, the Unlimited Blade Works and stared around confusedly from his position lying on the ground.
"Good, it seems you are awake." Arthur said as he stood over Shirou. He stepped a couple of paces back as Shirou stood up. "We must begin your training."
"Training? I thought I was meditating." Shirou said.
"Indeed you are. I have just pulled your consciousness into your soul." Arthur said as he tossed Shirou a blade he had picked up from the ground. "This is where your true training begins. Where you shall learn to fight with my Authorities and gather your experience. And where the concept of time is flawed."
"What do you mean by flawed?"
"I mean that time moves differently here. In here, one day is equal to one hour. A perfect place to train, but it leaves our body vulnerable which is why a safe place was required."
Shirou nodded his head in understanding. "Then let's start."
"I couldn't agree more."
(Note: I've stopped using old English from the last point on because it started to become troublesome. If you want me to continue in old English please voice it. Thank you.)
There you have it. This chapter was more along the lines of setting up the settings and such, but I believe I did a good job, otherwise...Well I got nothing really.
Special thanks to souvikkundu0017 for providing information. Really, he has been a great help.