Fate/Britain Lostbelt : Hero of Justice

"Uooooooohhh—!"

Shirou gripped the holy spear with both hands and let out a fierce roar.

Before him charged a monstrous boar, hideous and bloodthirsty, poised to gore everything in its path.

The two were locked in a battle where the only outcome was life… or death.

A beast driven solely by instinct, its first reaction upon seeing a human was to attack—rip, tear, devour.

And so, Shirou was left with no choice but to fight.

"Haaahhh—!"

With spear in hand, Shirou's movements were awkward and stiff.

All he could manage were basic thrusts—forward, pull back, and thrust again.

He had trained in archery and kenjutsu, but never in polearms.

All he could rely on now was pure instinct and imagination— attacking in the only way he believed a spear could be used.

If he were a master lancer, perhaps he could have swung the spear like a blade, or wielded it like a hammer— unbound by form, unshackled by convention.

But he wasn't.

"Yah!"

With a sharp cry, he drove the spear into the sandy ground near the charging beast.

A violent gale exploded outward—kicked up by the power of the holy weapon.

The demonic boar, however, twisted its grotesque frame with terrifying agility.

Its tusks, shaped like crescent moons, swung forward in a vicious lunge.

If that strike landed, Shirou's fragile human body would be ripped apart.

"No you don't…!"

Even staring death in the face, Shirou felt no fear.

His mind was clear—dominated by cold determination.

—If I were King Arthur, the one who wielded the spear… what would he do in this moment?

The thought rose unbidden.

And as soon as the question formed—it was answered.

The spear moved.

As if it had a will of its own, the holy lance took control, guiding Shirou's body in the perfect counter.

BOOM!

The lance swept wide to the right, smashing into the oncoming beast with crushing force.

The technique, the precision, the power—none of it came from Shirou himself.

There was no way a beginner like him could perform a maneuver worthy of a warrior hardened by decades of battle.

And yet… he didn't question it.

In that moment, Shirou felt like an observer, watching his own body fight from the outside.

He was detached, watching from beyond, watching the spear clash with the enemy.

"Uooooooohhhhh!"

The window opened.

With all the momentum behind him, Shirou struck— a final thrust that pierced the beast clean through.

The monster made no sound. No howl. No groan.

It simply collapsed, lifeless.

The battle was over.

"Haah… Haah… cough!"

Victorious, but far from jubilant, Shirou dropped to one knee, gasping for air.

His awareness returned—no longer the detached third-person self he was a moment ago.

And only then did he realize—

His body was breaking down.

His limbs were numb.

His ears rang with a shrill buzz.

His mind splintered, like a mirror on the verge of shattering.

If this was victory… it was a hollow one.

Still, he was lucky.

His life wasn't in danger, and with rest, he would recover.

"Shirou!"

Aesc—Morgan in her traveler's guise—came running, panic in her voice.

She cast a healing spell immediately, and her expression turned remorseful.

"I'm sorry. Was that fight… too much for your body?"

"Ugh… No, I'm okay. Just…"

The healing spell helped stabilize his body, and the exploding pain faded.

Shirou slowly began to think clearly again.

He looked at the holy lance, a strange unease swirling in his chest.

"After fighting like that… I should probably rest. Don't push yourself too hard."

Aesc smiled gently, relieved.

"Still… you did really well just now, Shirou.

I almost jumped in to cast a barrier spell myself."

She had meant to test him—just a mild battle with a lesser demonic boar.

But what she hadn't expected… was how far he pushed himself.

His technique. His instincts.

They shouldn't have been possible for a first-time warrior.

"Honestly," she thought, "if I had fought him without magic… I might not have done any better than the boar."

Then her smile faded slightly, worry creeping back in.

"But, Shirou… That pain you felt— It's from the lance, isn't it? Is the holy spear still too much for your body?"

"That… I can't say for sure, Aesc."

With her help, he leaned against a rock.

His thoughts were racing.

"It didn't feel like I was the one fighting.

It felt like the spear was moving me. I was just a passenger. Watching. But this exhaustion… proves it was real. I did fight. With my own body. No. It wasn't me. It wasn't even the spear. It was… something else."

A truth hovered at the edge of his mind.

He had a hunch, but it wasn't ready to be spoken aloud.

Not yet.

Hopefully… it won't hurt this much next time.

He could endure nightly pain from forging magic circuits.

But that didn't mean he was immune to pain.

"Alright then," Aesc said brightly. "I think I know what's happening with your body. Let's go find another boar for practice next time!"

She gave him a confident wink.

"And don't worry. I'll always be ready with a healing spell to fix you up!"

….

The two of them sat quietly, leaning against the rock.

Before them, the End of the Coast stretched into a sea of endless blue.

They had left Orkney that morning, reached this endless beach by noon, and now… rested together.

"You said it was an island, but… Seeing it with my own eyes— This sea stretches forever. I can't see anything beyond it."

Shirou let his thoughts drift into the horizon.

Aesc didn't respond right away.

Her eyes were fixed on the water—not with awe, but with something heavier.

Something painful.

"Yeah… After all—aside from Britain… this world has nothing left. Only the Sea of Nothingness."

Once again, her words slipped past his understanding.

"Shirou… do you know why my mother and I fought?"

Morgan spoke suddenly, her gaze fixed on the endless sea.

"A fight…? You mean yesterday?"

Shirou asked, puzzled at first, then recalled what she meant.

"Honestly, I still don't quite understand why you two argued… Was it because your mother didn't want you to leave?"

That seemed like the most reasonable guess.

But as he thought back to their conversation, his mind drifted again—to memories of Kiritsugu, his adoptive father.

"No, it would've been easier if that was all…"

Morgan smiled faintly, shaking her head. She scooped up a handful of sand and gently sifted it through her fingers.

"Shirou… can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"If you were given a mission—to bring judgment upon those who have committed unforgivable sins—and among them… were your loved ones… If carrying out your mission meant their death, But refusing meant they would go unpunished… What would you choose?"

She posed the question slowly, carefully. And once her words were spoken, she turned to him, her gaze intense—waiting.

"..."

Shirou said nothing.

He wasn't dense. He understood the implication behind her question.

He realized… this wasn't hypothetical for Morgan.

And honestly, there was no perfect answer.

"That's… a painful question."

He gave a rare bitter smile.

Because if fulfilling justice required turning your blade on your own family— who wouldn't hesitate?

If Shirou had to choose between becoming a "Hero of Justice" and saving Sakura…

He would be trapped, just like Morgan.

He never imagined putting those two ideals on the same scale.

But because of Morgan's doubt—he now did.

"I think I understand now… Maybe the reason we met is because we both carry the same kind of burden."

He sighed, unable to give the answer she wanted.

Morgan's eyes, as deep as a still lake, shimmered with disappointment.

But she forced a smile.

"So… Shirou, do you understand the weight I carry?"

"I do… but that doesn't mean I agree," he replied.

Seeing her surprise, he gave a soft laugh and continued:

"Morgan… do you know what my dream is?"

This time, he didn't call her Aesc.

He called her by her true name.

"Your dream…? To become someone strong? To cook delicious food? Or to see all the wonders of the world?"

"No. My dream is simple— I want to become a Hero of Justice. I want to make sure everyone can be happy."

"Eh? A Hero of Justice… that's amazing."

"But that dream… was once denied by my father. He told me that a Hero of Justice can't save everyone. That if you try to save a thousand but risk losing five hundred, then the right choice is to abandon a hundred to save nine hundred. That's the kind of logic he believed in."

Shirou remembered Kiritsugu's words words that once infuriated him.

"At the time, I was angry. I argued. But now… I think he was right. Even so, I still haven't given up on my dream. I know I can't save everyone. But I still want to be someone who tries. It probably sounds childish… but that's how I truly feel."

Morgan didn't laugh. She didn't scoff.

She looked at him earnestly.

"No… Shirou, you really are an incredible human. There's no one more amazing than you."

"You're praising me, right?"

"No need to question it. It's praise. No sarcasm, no mockery— Thank you, Shirou."

Her eyes blinked slowly.

The doubt that had clouded them… was gone.

"Maybe you were sent to me for a reason," she whispered. "You seek to become a Hero of Justice, and I… was burdened with the title of 'Savior.' Both of us were chosen by cruel ideals. But—just like how you don't believe a hero must sacrifice others, I don't believe a savior must bring destruction. Even if my fate ends in tragedy, I'll fight it. I'll fulfill my mission— but I'll also protect this fairy-tale Britain, and the fairies who live here with love in their hearts."

She gripped her staff tightly.

Her vow was clear.

Even if the road ahead was cruel— She would walk it with her head held high.

"…But Shirou—"

Her expression darkened again, concern flickering in her gaze.

"You've helped me find clarity. So maybe I have no right to say this… But the path you're walking— Even I can't predict where it leads. It may… destroy you."

Her gloved hand reached out, lightly resting on his neck.

Shirou lowered his head, feeling the warmth through the fabric.

"I know, Morgan… But I still want to become that kind of person— Like Kiritsugu, who cried with joy as he saved a child from that inferno ten years ago. That child was so lucky… He looked up to Kiritsugu with awe. And even though Kiritsugu gave up on justice, that child still chose to carry on his dream. To become the Hero of Justice in his place."

Had he just spoken every thought from the bottom of his heart?

Shirou felt like he was rambling.

But deep down—he truly meant every word.

He would walk this path to the very end, even if it meant self-destruction— just like Kiritsugu.

"If no one else can do it, then I'll do it. Dad couldn't because he was an old man, but I can—so leave it to me. I'll carry your dream, Dad."

That was the vow Emiya Shirou made beneath the moonlight, the night Kiritsugu passed away.

Every thought in his heart was laid bare— And the Fairy of Paradise saw it all with her Fairy Eyes.

She was shocked by the depth of his conviction.

So much so, that in her heart… a new feeling bloomed—something tied to her role as a Savior, and yet in direct conflict with it.

She let go of her staff.

And with an impulse she never could have predicted— she embraced the human before her.

"Then… let's make a promise, Shirou. Whether I fulfill the mission of a Savior first, or you reach the end of your path as a Hero of Justice— We will watch over one another. And we will never betray that bond. I swear it… in the name of Morgan."

At the edge of the End of the Coast, With the crashing waves as their witness— A Fairy of Paradise and a human boy made a vow.