39;s words or coveting his physical form, begin to manipulate and attack him.

“King of Knights…stop me…I can't…I can't control my body!” Diarmuid tried to resist, but his body moved toward Shirou without his consent.

“How absurd!” Iskandar scowled, ready to step in and intervene.

But then…

“Roar roar roar!”

The deafening roar filled the air as Spartacus, whose Saint Graph was already shattered, was on the verge of disappearing like a spirit.

But the weak were being bullied, the weak were being oppressed!

Spartacus's powerful willpower allowed his body, already on the brink of complete destruction, to solidify once again with the help of the black mud power that had not yet been completely dissipated.

The broad greatsword gleamed like moonlight and with a loud “clang,” it swept away all the servants surrounding Shirou.

And then—


The massive body slowly faded away, its spirit scattered like snowflakes on Shirou's tear-stained face.

“Poor thing, you'll have to continue the rest of your journey on your own.”

The end of the hero.
It vanished completely, like a dream.

“Aahh! Ahh!”

Tears streamed down Shirou's face as he jumped into the river.

“What a hero, what a noble hero!” Iskandar muttered, gazing at the spot where Spartacus had disappeared.

“That's good…
He's gone,” Artoria breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing Shirou's escape.

“I can't point my spears at an innocent child…
that would go against my honor,” Diarmuid said, trembling within.

Across the river, Shirou clambered up, gasping for air and clutching a straw in his hand.

He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath.

But deep inside, why did he feel like he couldn't breathe?

Squatting on the riverbank, he looked at his pitiful reflection in the water.

On this quiet and lonely night, Shirou was once again alone, just as he was six days ago during the brutal war.

But this fact didn't break his spirit.
Instead, it reminded him of the bravery of his hero, whose tall, confident form and relaxed smile were forever etched into his heart and soul.


Tears rolled down Shirou's face, mixed with the water from the river, making a soft dripping sound as they fell to the ground.

He stifled a shout, overwhelmed by emotion.

“Bam, Bam, Bam—-“

The hands continued to pound the ground in a furious rhythm.

“Weakling…weakling…why do I have to be weak?”

“Why do I have to suffer from oppression?”

“Why can't I do anything?”

I have to survive!

I must survive!

“I have to become stronger.
Stronger than anyone else.
Strong enough to end the bullying and the oppression.
Strong enough to bring freedom to the weak!”

With a fierce determination in his heart, Shirou stood up, his tears scattering in the wind.
The old, self-pitying arrogance that had once held him captive was gone, replaced by a newfound sense of purpose and resolve.

He gazed across the river, a faint trace of tears still visible on his face.
“Goodbye, Spartacus.
Goodbye, my old self,”

No longer would he be lost or deceive himself.
The barriers that once imprisoned his heart were broken by the towering and mighty hero, revealing a path to freedom that now stretched out before him!

He would never forget the figure of his hero, and he would walk this path with a heart full of courage, guided by the light of his hero.
This way, he would never be lost or confused ever again.

Shirou turned around, his youthful face now illuminated by a flame visible in his shimmering eyes.
This was the flame of awakening.

The fire ignited by the hero burned brightly!

——[Heroic Mortal C]!

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