{ Support Me on:-patreo-n /xander11111 ( extra 10 chapter ) }

Chapter 27 : FGO : English Lostbelt 01 , Morgan Le Fay

Meanwhile, in the Lostbelt: Britain—Capital City, Camelot.

The skies loomed heavy with magical mist. Towering walls of enchanted stone pulsed with protective wards as twilight spread across the kingdom. Within the heart of the palace, Morgan le Fay stood on her high balcony, regal and still, her eyes surveying her land like a queen carved from silver and war.

Beside her stood Barghest, the ever-vigilant city guardian, draped in armor, hand resting on the hilt of her greatsword. On Morgan's left was Baobhan Sith, her adopted daughter, quiet and whimsical, swaying gently on her heels with a faint, almost childish grin.

Further back, seated casually on a balcony , was Mordred, arms crossed, boots kicked up, smirking lazily as her red eyes scanned the chamber—her presence crackling with Ruler-class defiance.

Morgan's voice cut through the chamber like a cold gust across steel.

"You may come in, Beryl Gut."

The chamber doors creaked open, and Beryl Gut stepped inside. His aura was thick with lies, a sickly confidence in his stride, and an unsettling grin plastered on his face.

"My queen," he began with exaggerated courtesy, bowing low. "Morgan—your Ruler-class servant form—I did meet you once. When you rayshifted yourself, it allowed me to—"

He stopped. The air behind him is being splitted

A black shadow surged into the throne room, writhing like a storm of ink. The pressure was instant. Barghest moved without hesitation, stepping forward, blade half-drawn. Baobhan Sith's lips twitched, her playful aura gone in a flash, hands weaving a hex.

The shadow twisted violently, then snapped inward.

The room fell silent as it dissipated.

And standing there—at the heart of Camelot's throne hall—was Jin-Woo.

No words. No movement. Just absolute presence.

Morgan le Fay tilted her head slightly. Her expression remained composed, but her thoughts flickered fast and sharp.

Who is this man…? He didn't rayshift. That wasn't teleportation. That was something else. Something that doesn't belong to this world…

She stepped down from the balcony, slowly approaching. The air grew tighter with each step.

For the first time in a very long time, Morgan le Fay was intrigued.

Suddenly, Barghest took a sharp step forward, voice edged with steel.

"Intruder. Introduce yourself. This meeting was meant for the Crypter. Not some… stranger."

Off to the side, Beryl Gut didn't move. His smile didn't twitch, but his thoughts betrayed him.

I guess staying quiet's the smart play here. Watching this random punk get put in his place… he ruined my damn entrance anyway.

But before the tension could break—

A ripple of shadow slithered across the floor.

A dark, regal presence stepped forward from behind Jin-Woo, emerging like a phantom from the abyss. Bellion, the Grand Marshal of the Shadow Army, towered into view—horned helm gleaming, cape dragging behind him like a war banner.

He spoke with authority, voice echoing across the chamber like a divine sentence.

"No, big girl. Your queen should be grateful," he said coldly, his glowing eyes narrowing. "She is graced by the presence of the one who rules the dead."

Barghest's stance shifted instantly. Her body tensed, and her blade hummed slightly in response to the pressure. Her eyes sharpened.

That wasn't magecraft, she thought, stunned. That was… magic. Actual magic. The kind that shouldn't exist anymore.

Morgan's composure cracked for just a second.

Impossible… That spell structure… that essence… This man—he just used magic? The real thing? I thought it was extinct—erased from the Age of Man…

Her eyes narrowed, shifting lower—not at Jin-Woo, but at his shadow.

And there, where others would see only darkness, she saw it.

Countless eyes. Glowing. Watching. Waiting.

The eyes of the Shadow Army, hidden behind the veil of reality, staring back at her with silent malice. No words. No movement. Just pressure. Just hunger.

Only someone of my level… she realized. Only I can see it. If he wanted to… he could drown Camelot in those things without warning. A wave of death, held back by sheer will.

Morgan's voice broke the silence, calm but commanding.

"Stand down, Barghest. You are not in his league."

Barghest's brow furrowed, voice tightening. "But my queen, this random man doesn't even follow the rules of this mee—"

"Barghest," Morgan interrupted, not looking back. "This man carries an entire army behind his feet—and he hides it well. But it seems I can see it."

She stepped closer to Jin-Woo, eyes locked with his. "And if my guess is correct… he doesn't use magecraft. He uses real magic. If he wished, even I could be overwhelmed."

Jin-Woo exhaled softly, his tone relaxed, almost amused.

"This is the third time someone's seen the army I hide behind my shadow. I guess someone beautiful as you… must've attracted it."

Morgan gave a faint smirk. "Random man, you're certainly good at teasing."

Her voice lowered, eyes flicking back to the invisible legion behind him.

"But that shadow of yours… it looks at me like it wants to kill me. Because of my actions, ?" She held her gaze on him. "Maybe that's the truth. And the only one holding them back… is you."

Jin-Woo's expression didn't change. Calmly, he spoke a single word.

"Beru."

From the pool of darkness behind Jin-Woo's heels, Beru emerged—towering, insectoid, regal. The Shadow Ant King, cloaked in void-black chitin, clicked his mandibles once before releasing a shrill screech that echoed through the chamber. His shadow ant army, numbering in the thousands, surged behind him like a tidal swarm, crawling across the walls, clustering along the vaulted ceiling until the entire throne room was blanketed in a moving darkness.

Barghest instinctively stepped in front of Morgan, hand on her blade.

Morgan, however, didn't move. Her eyes stayed on the one standing at the center of it all.

He is… truly an Has army inside him .

Off to the side, Beryl Gut stood still, forcing a calm smile, though his thoughts churned in silence.

I expected Morgan to tease this guy… maybe test him a little… but this? This random man—is he even human? No Servant I know has this kind of presence. No modern magus could possibly manifest this…

Only Kirschtaria came close—and even he needed the entire Lostbelt's backing to reach that kind of power.

As the ceiling creaked under the weight of Beru's army, the Ant King turned toward Morgan, voice reverberating with sharp, insectile resonance.

"My liege… this woman does not know who she stands before. Shall I remind her?"

Jin-Woo gave a slight shake of his head. "You and your personal army… calm down."

Beru clicked once in understanding. "As you command… my liege."

Though his eyes lingered on Morgan with a primal intensity, Beru bowed low. The army receded—crawling back across the stone, sinking back into the depths of Jin-Woo's shadow until only silence remained.

Jin-Woo turned toward Morgan again, his voice level.

"There. Happy now, Queen Morgan? My army isn't looking at you with hostility anymore."

Morgan blinked once, slowly.

"Much appreciated," she said, her tone calm, but there was something deeper now—genuine respect, rare and deliberate.

Then she added with a sly tilt of her head, "Random man… you are graced to speak with me privately."

Jin-Woo gave a casual nod. "How about we take a walk?"

Before Morgan could respond, Baobhan Sith stepped forward, appearing at her mother's side with a sharp look. Her eyes flicked toward Bellion, the massive black-armored figure looming silently behind Jin-Woo.

"Mother, I'm accompanying you," she said, voice sharper than usual. "I don't trust his armies."

Jin-Woo raised a brow, then shrugged lightly. "Bellion won't suddenly behead Morgan. He's too controlled for that."

"Except Beru. He's more the type to strike first, then talk later."

Across the hall, Barghest had not relaxed once. Her eyes stayed glued to Bellion, watching the quiet way he stood, the weight in his silence.

"You mean that black shadow ant that walks like a man?" she said. "He's weaker than this Bellion. That one's too wild. But this one…"

She stepped forward, unsheathing her sword with a clean, ringing sound. Her eyes narrowed.

"This one obeys. Listens. Calculates. That makes him more dangerous. And you, random man—you hold the power to kill my queen. That alone makes you a threat."

The edge of her blade pointed downward, but her grip was tight.

Jin-Woo shifted his gaze—this time locking eyes with Morgan le Fay, the Queen of the English Lostbelt.

"How about it?" he said, tone unreadable. "A spar. Your class tank guard… versus my Bellion."

Morgan raised a brow, clearly amused. "Agreed. It can cool things off."

She turned and stepped back with Baobhan Sith, the shift in her presence signaling that this was no longer a conversation—it was now a spectacle.

Then, from the side of the chamber, Beryl Gut, who had been lingering in silence, finally spoke up, raising a hand lazily.

"Wait a moment. I mean—come on, this is a fight, right? Shouldn't it be at an arena or something? Somewhere fitting? We need an audience. Let the whole kingdom watch."

Baobhan Sith clapped her hands together with a wicked grin. "Sounds like fun. Mother, how about I tell every faerie in the capital to come watch the show?"

But before Morgan could answer, Bellion turned his massive form toward Beryl. The room dropped into stillness as his shadow eyes pierced through him like spears of judgment.

The Grand Marshal's voice came. "Human… if you wish to scan me or relay information to your fellow Crypters, I do not mind. But tell them this—"

He took a single step forward. Shadows trembled at his feet. "—whether your so-called alien god or not, there are beings far beyond that throne of heroes. And my liege… will triumph against them all."

Beryl's confident smirk cracked. He gulped, visibly.

Before the weight could sink further, Morgan raised her arm—and with a flick of her wrist, a brilliant shimmer coalesced into a massive spear—ornate, regal, and thrumming with power.

She twirled it once and slammed its base into the marble floor. The entire chamber pulsed with fae magecraft .

Her voice rang out like a queen before a kingdom.

"All Fairy Clans. All nobles and commoners alike—into the Camelot Arena. There is to be a fight. One worth your eyes."

She turned, smiling. "Your queen demands it."

Outside, horns began to sound. The faerie messengers took flight, racing through the air as the announcement spread across Camelot. The city stirred with excitement. The arena filled with life and noise as every fairy clan gathered to witness what was about to unfold.

In the center of it all, Jin-Woo just smirked in silence.

Morgan stepped closer, arms crossed, her tone smooth.

"Before we begin… I can't keep calling you 'random man.' Tell me your name."

Jin-Woo looked her in the eye, calm and composed, his blue eyes flickering softly beneath the fading light.

"Sung Jin-Woo," he said. "But just call me Jin-Woo."

Morgan's lips curled in amusement. "Alright, Jin-Woo. I hope your warrior entertains me."

Jin-Woo glanced toward her, then to the arena where Barghest was already making her way down the steps.

"Tell Barghest to fight at her fullest," he said. "If not… she'll regret it."

Barghest turned, eyes narrowing.

"I assure you, Shadow Mage… I am more than enough for this shadow warrior of yours."

Jin-Woo shrugged lightly. "Yeah. That's what everyone says."

—

Fifteen minutes passed.

The arena was filled to its brim with cheering, buzzing faeries. The atmosphere was electric, like a festival before a storm.

At the center podium, Baobhan Sith raised her arms, her voice amplified by fae magic.

"Welcome, fairies of every clan!" she shouted, grinning wide. "Before the battle begins, allow me to present—your queen, Morgan le Fay!"

The entire arena erupted in cheers.

Baobhan continued, swirling once with a flourish of her dress. "And her champion… Barghest, our very own Fairy Knight of might and flame!"

Barghest raised her sword in silence, the cheers rising louder.

Baobhan Sith then turned slowly, facing the opposite side of the arena where Jin-Woo stood, calm and still beneath the open sky.

"And now… the human who wields forbidden power, a master of shadows and death, a mage unlike any we've known—Sung Jin-Woo!"

She paused, smirking. "And for his champio—"

"BOOOOOO!"

A deafening chorus exploded from the crowd.

"Go home, human!"

"Humans should be slaves!"

"BOOOOOOOOO!"

The crowd's scorn drowned the arena. Mockery. Spite. Prejudice.

But Jin-Woo didn't flinch. The air began to twist.

Chapter 28 : Fgo English Lostbelt 02 Bellion vs Barghest

The sky darkened. And then— million shadows rose in synchronized silence, forming rows upon rows in impossible precision. From every inch of his shadow, a legion stood—helmed, armed, and unflinching.

Beru stepped forward first, his mandibles clicking with venomous pride. "WHO ARE WE?".

Igris followed, sword drawn and pointed downward, his voice cold and firm. "WHO. ARE. WE?"

And then— The Shadow Army roared in unison, voices echoing through the clouds and shaking the very stone beneath the fae:

"WE HAVE BEEN CHOSEN—"

"BY THE SHADOW MONARCH!"

The sky turned pitch-black.

The very stone beneath the fairy trembled. Magic barriers across Camelot shuddered. Every faerie—noble or peasant, soldier or knight—froze in place, breath caught in their throats. The booing stopped.

A deep, voice rumbled from the center of the shadow ranks. Tusk, the High Orc Shaman, cloaked in dark robes and runes of ancient death, stepped forward, raising his orb to the sky .

His voice cracked through the silence like a divine decree.

"AND HIS ARMY IS COMPOSED OF—"

The darkness twisted. The shadows above the arena began to take form—each declaration echoed by a chorus of voices so loud they pierced the clouds.

"TWO THOUSAND SHADOW KNIGHTS!"

A thousand shadow-clad warriors in shadowy plate rose into the sky, blades gleaming with cursed steel. They locked shields and blades in the air, forming phalanxes mid-flight, spears poised, unmoving.

"TWO THOUSAND MAGICIANS!"

Robed sorcerers surged behind the knights, arcane sigils blazing from their hands as they formed vast glyph circles in the sky. Flames, frost, lightning, spiraled in preparation—a silent show of raw, honed power.

"FIVE THOUSAND HIGH ORCS!"

From the shadows came monstrous brutes, towering high orcs roaring in unison. Their great axes slammed into the air, forming ranks of living siege weapons—flesh and fury bound by loyalty.

"ONE THOUSAND ANTS!"

Black ants crawled into formation, forming a single unbreakable column of razor-sharp coordination. Mandibles clicked in eerie unity, their armored forms reflecting void-light as they aligned beneath Beru's silent command.

"ONE HUNDRED GIANTS!"

The air cracked open. A hundred titanic silhouettes emerged behind them, each giant bearing a weapon as tall as towers, faces silent and grim. Their mere presence bent the clouds.

"ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND—ASHBORN'S PERSONAL ARMY OF RULERS!"

The arena darkened again.

A vast sea of regal soldiers cloaked in silver-black armor rose—each with crowns forged from death itself. Their eyes glowed in shadow, standing behind Igris, who stepped forward and pointed toward the fae.

This was no army. This was a pantheon of death.

"TWO MILLION DRAGONS!"

The sky was torn asunder.

Wings burst through the clouds—black, red, violet. Two million dragons roared across the heavens, blotting out the sun as they circled above, their shrieks shaking the earth itself.

The wind howled with dragonfire. Shadows fell like meteors.

"THE FINAL LEGION… TEN MILLION STRONG—"

"THE MONARCH'S ARMY!"

From every shadow, from every crevice of reality, the full might of the Shadow Monarch's Legion emerged.

Ten million soldiers. Perfect. Silent. Obedient.

Their armor was darkness. Their eyes, endless hunger.

They formed across the skies, a formation so vast it wrapped around Camelot's barrier like a second world pressing against existence. The final chant echoed like the call of death itself:

"WE ARE THE SHADOW."

"WE ARE ETERNAL."

"WE—SERVE—SHADOW MONARCH SUNG-JIN-WOO !"

And beneath that impossibly vast, god-splitting army, Jin-Woo stood at the center of the arena—silent, still, purple eyes glowing, a single smirk on his face.

He didn't have to speak. The world already had.

Then—Beru stepped forward again, his claws stretched upward toward the clouds, his voice like a battle cry rising from the grave. "For the glory of the—"

CLAP. A single sound. Sharp, deliberate.

Every gaze—Beru, Igris, Bellion, the dragons, the crowd, even the clouds—turned back to Jin-Woo as he raised one hand and clapped once more.

He sighed softly. "Thank you, thank you… but that's enough," he said, voice calm, casual. "If you want to watch—please. Quiet down."

Beru immediately straightened. "The Liege has spoken."

With a rustle of shadows, the entire millions–strong army obeyed.

Dragons coiled and folded their wings. Giants crossed their arms and sat on the floating rocks. Ants and knights aligned in ranks, sitting still on summoned clouds above the arena.

Silence returned. But it wasn't peace.

It was tension held at knife's edge.

—

Morgan, still standing tall beside Baobhan Sith, whispered to herself.

"I expected a thousand. Maybe a hundred thousand… but this? More than ten million..."

Her eyes drifted toward Jin-Woo, who stood alone with the ease of someone who didn't need a kingdom behind him.

"I probably already lost—not just in skill… but in army."

Beside her, Baobhan Sith gave a half-grin, nudging her gently. "Don't cry, Mother. We can probably negotiate. Probably."

Morgan didn't respond. At the edge of the royal platform,

Beryl Gut stood deathly still, hands clammy, his grin long gone. His pupils twitched as he stared up at the ocean of darkness in the sky.

"…I'm fucked," he muttered under his breath.

And in his mind, the last shred of arrogance crumbled into despair.

I hoped the fairies would humiliate this random guy… this Jin-Woo. But his army? They didn't fight… they made a damn chorus. I'm so, so fucked.

Baobhan Sith took a deep breath and turned toward the edge of the arena.

"Are you ready, Barghest?"

Barghest gave a short nod, eyes never leaving the massive armored figure across from her.

Then Baobhan Sith turned to the opposite side. Her eyes landed on Bellion—and for just a second, she gulped. His presence felt like standing beneath a fortress carved from shadow.

"A-Are you ready… Sir Bellion?"

Bellion didn't speak. He simply nodded once, slow and firm.

Then—
BOOOONG!

The arena ball sounded, echoing across the stadium like a gong forged for gods.

A magical voice followed overhead:
"Let the best effort win."

—

Barghest began to move—not a dash, not a charge—just a steady, confident walk, the tip of her blade trailing faint sparks across the arena floor. Her cloak rippled in the magic wind.

Bellion mirrored her, walking calmly… but in a circle, studying her with unblinking precision. The arena was his domain now, and his movements carved it into a battlefield.

Then Barghest broke the silence, her voice low and incredulous.

"How did your Sung Jin-Woo possess that many army members? Even my Queen can't do that."

Bellion's answer came, deep and measured like stone grinding against steel. "Your queen… busies herself with rule."

He stopped circling. "My liege… the Shadow Monarch… spent most of his life fighting. He did not inherit his army. He chose them. One by one."

Bellion's hand moved to the hilt of his blade. "And they chose him back."

Without warning, Barghest lunged forward—her speed explosive, her blade a streak of light meant to cleave through anything in its path.

But Bellion didn't flinch.

His armored hand snapped forward—catching the edge of her sword with his bare palm.

The impact cracked the air like thunder.

In the same motion, he shoved forward with overwhelming force, pushing Barghest back and slamming her face-first into the ground. Dust kicked up in a sharp burst as she slid across the arena floor.

Barghest growled, rising slowly.

"I've lost so much… that now I let someone catch my blade barehanded?"

Bellion's eyes didn't glow. They didn't need to. His presence answered for him.

"I sense… you're being restrained."

Barghest stood tall, brushing off the dirt, grin forming at the edge of her lips.

"I'm at my fullest," she replied, voice brimming with adrenaline. "In fact—this is exciting."

Bellion tilted his head slightly, eyes rising to the sky. Shadows still blanketed everything above them, cast by Jin-Woo's army that hovered like a second firmament.

"The sun didn't help you, huh?" he said calmly.

Barghest's eyes narrowed.

"How did you know the sun empowers me?"

Bellion replied without pause. "The information my liege transferred to my mind. That's all."

Then he raised his sword, pointing upward. "As Grand Marshal of the Shadow Army," he commanded, "I order you to make way—for the sun to shine."

From above, Beru responded instantly, voice echoing with sharp elegance. "Make way for the opponent to gain some footing."

The ten million-strong army shifted in perfect synchronization. Their shadows pulled back, and a hole opened in the dark sky, allowing a single, brilliant beam of sunlight to pierce through and shine directly on Barghest.

The light bathed her armor, and her presence surged.

She tightened her grip on Galatine, her aura flaring.

"You'll regret this," she said, voice seething with newfound strength. "For underestimating me."

Bellion stood motionless, blade resting by his side.

Suddenly, Barghest's body began to grow, her form warping with fae magic and raw power. Her armor cracked and fell away in glowing fragments, replaced by a primal, burning presence. Her size doubled—no, more than doubled—towering now twice Bellion's height, muscle and flame rippling beneath her enchanted skin.

From the stands, the crowd of fairies erupted.

"Barghest is serious now!"
"She's going to light our path through this darkness!"
"She's our true champion!"

Her eyes flared with fury and glory. She raised her molten blade, Galatine burning black at the edges with ancestral energy.

"Be grateful," she roared, voice echoing across the arena, "that you see me like this before I ascend into my Black Dog Galatine form!"

Bellion finally moved. He chuckled. A deep, low sound that echoed like a quiet storm under control.

"Legia, Monarch of Giants," he murmured, eyes narrowing slightly. "He'd be laughing his ass off at this."

Barghest's pupils twitched. Provoked.

With a roar that shook the walls, she lunged—blade swinging with brute speed and power, aiming to split Bellion in two with a crushing vertical strike.

Bellion didn't dodge. With one hand, he tilted his blade slightly—and deflected the entire force of Galatine, redirecting the blow like swatting away a child's tantrum.

Barghest snarled and followed up—slash, stab, spin, hammer strikes. Her movements were wild and brutal, like an angry bull, each step cratering the ground, sending up bursts of flame and wind.

Bellion stayed silent. Every swing, every explosion of magic—deflected. Redirected. Absorbed.

He didn't even counter. He simply watched. Controlled. Composed.

Barghest lunged again, roaring with all her fury—

And Bellion moved just slightly to the side, letting her pass, the tip of her burning blade dragging past his shoulder without a scratch.

"You call this your fullest?" he said quietly. "This is desperation, not power."

Barghest grit her teeth.
"Heh. Same as you… just using the momentum of my—"

She suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Her foot slid back. Not intentionally.

Her body moved before her mind could register it. A survival instinct. She stepped back.

Barghest's eyes narrowed. "What… just happened?"

From the royal platform, Morgan watched in silence, then spoke softly.
"Barghest… has never feared anyone. And yet… she stepped back."

Bellion's gaze locked on her. His voice was low, deliberate.
"Amazing, big girl. I didn't move. I didn't raise my sword. I just thought… about attacking."

He took one step forward. Not aggressive—just presence.
"And you… the supposed guard of Queen Morgan… stepped away."

Barghest's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing on her temple. Her grip on Galatine hardened.
"You're very… provocative."