Fate/Britain Lostbelt : Hero of Justice

Because they had shared their deepest secrets with one another, Shirou could clearly feel that his bond with Morgan had grown stronger.

Their connection now went beyond that of friends or even contractual partners—something more intimate, though not quite romantic. The phrase "more than friends, less than lovers" didn't seem to fit either. Shirou figured there was no need to pin it down with a label—as long as he knew their relationship was something truly special.

That said…

"Ahh, Shirou! I just want to clarify—because of the huge lifespan difference between humans and fae, we're definitely not lovers, okay?!"

Morgan, her cheeks flushed red, flailed her arms wildly, her speech flustered and erratic. It was clear her emotions were anything but calm. Her earlier outpouring had likely been a moment of impulse, and now that her rationality had returned, she felt… embarrassed?

That's what Shirou thought anyway.

"Alright, alright, I get what you're saying, Aesc," Shirou said.

Even Shirou, whose emotional awareness could be questionable at times, knew better than to challenge her when she was acting like a startled kitten. Better to go along and reassure her than argue.

Still, thinking about what had just happened made his own cheeks redden.

He was just a 17-year-old high school student who had spent more time focused on part-time work and magecraft training than romance. His experience in that realm was marginal, at best. Replaying what had just occurred left him undeniably flustered.

Thankfully, there were no third parties around to witness this, so he didn't have to worry about it becoming material for future teasing—still, this was definitely something that could be considered a major black mark on his personal history.

If Fujimura-sensei ever heard about it, she would probably gush about how "pure-hearted" Shirou was… Just the thought made him shudder—it was all too easy to imagine.

He remembered how Taiga once told Sakura about that elementary school essay where he declared he wanted to become a "hero of justice"… That moment alone had left him wanting to crawl under the table.

Not that he was ashamed of the dream—just… some things are hard to hear out loud.

"Good, as long as you understand, Shirou. Whew…" Morgan sighed in relief and regained her usual calm and intelligent demeanor.

She brushed sand off her skirt and took a few steps across the beach.

"Looks like we've rested enough. Shirou, ready to move on?" she asked, pointing her staff ahead.

"Yeah, I've mostly recovered. Even if we run into another fight, I should be good to go." Shirou nodded, gripping the holy lance in his right hand.

Strangely, he felt like he had recovered pretty quickly.

Normally, after experiencing such intense pain, he would've needed at least an hour or two to rest, but now, just ten minutes later, he felt full of energy and ready to continue.

He assumed it must be the effect of Morgan's magecraft—so he didn't think too much about the oddity.

"Then let's go! Destination: the World Tree in the Lake District!"

Morgan shouted energetically, grabbing Shirou's hand and pulling him into a run, just like when they'd left Orkney.

The only difference this time was how decisive she was—there wasn't even a hint of hesitation.

After all, even a fae from paradise has things they like. For Morgan, this journey with a human companion was a treasured part of what she called her "Spring Memory" — something outside the fate-bound mission of a fae from Avalon.

And a very precious part at that.

"Slow down, Aesc! You're running like a wild boar! I'm just a human here!"

As for the human being dragged along? His light-hearted complaints could be ignored for now.

...

"Haa… haa… Finally, I can see the World Tree clearly," Shirou panted, raising his head to gaze at the towering tree in the Lake District.

A literal world tree.

Located along the northern horizon, the tree was far beyond what words like "massive" could describe. It pierced the skies, and its size was likely impossible to measure.

Morgan, however, didn't just react with awe. She looked more pensive—deep in thought.

"I originally thought the World Tree was just abnormally large, but seeing it up close… the magical energy within its trunk is astonishing."

She shared her observation.

"Strong? Can you give me a frame of reference?" Shirou asked.

"Hmm… The amount of magical energy within the World Tree might surpass that of all fae in Britain combined… Perhaps, it's even what sustains Britain's existence," she speculated.

She had no evidence, so her last statement was more of a hunch. But the sheer density of mana within the World Tree felt so vast, it could probably fuel the creation of an entire world.

"Sounds amazing," Shirou said. He didn't have much else to add and mentally filed the World Tree away as another "must-see landmark."

Come to think of it, he'd always been fascinated by great wonders. After finishing his studies, he had hoped to travel the world—partly to figure out what it meant to be a "hero of justice," and partly to witness humanity's miracles firsthand: like the Great Wall of China or the Golden Palace of the Forbidden City.

"Being able to see the World Tree this clearly means we're getting close to the Lake District, where the Mirror Clan lives. Let's push forward, Shirou. I want us to arrive before nightfall!"

Turning her gaze from the tree, Morgan's enthusiasm returned.

The distance from Orkney to the Mirror Clan's territory wasn't far—only about a day's journey if everything went smoothly. But if they dawdled, they might end up camping outdoors.

That wouldn't be ideal.

To Morgan, it might seem like a fun adventure, but Shirou, who had done housework since childhood, definitely didn't consider sleeping in the wild a pleasant experience—especially with bugs flying around.

…Not that he had to worry much about that. Morgan had spells for repelling beasts and insects. It seemed like she really had prepared well for this journey.

Still, resting in a proper room was always better. That's how Shirou convinced Morgan earlier.

She hadn't been too thrilled at first, but in the end, she'd gone along with his suggestion.

"Wait, Shirou!"

Morgan suddenly stopped in her tracks, her expression turning cautious, her senses sharpened.

"Something dangerous is coming."

Just as she sensed, something black began to appear around them.

Something… ominously black, and very, very threatening.

The creatures surrounding Shirou and Morgan were grotesque in form. Their entire bodies were a dark, purplish-black hue, with no discernible anatomy. Only two glowing red dots—presumably eyes—stared at them with silent malice.

If one had to describe them, their structure resembled that of slimes—amorphous, gelatinous beings. Without a fixed shape, their movements looked like upright, undulating eels made of mud.

The moment they appeared, both Morgan and Shirou felt a chill down their spines. A surge of caution instantly overtook them.

"Be careful, Shirou… These things are Moss. Moss are what fairies become after losing their radiance. They no longer possess intellect—not even speech. In this form, they've become the natural enemies of all fae. If a normal fairy makes contact with them, they'll be assimilated by the poison in their bodies. You're human, so their poison won't corrupt you, but don't let your guard down."

Morgan pointed her staff at the grotesque, dark violet creatures—beings known as Moss—as she gave Shirou a concise rundown. And yet, her tone carried a tinge of pity. To her, for a once-loving fairy to become such a twisted entity was a fate most tragic.

The Moss didn't rush forward. Instead, they slithered slowly, deliberately, their only aim seemingly to encircle Shirou and Morgan from all sides.

"So basically, these things are enemies. And getting touched by them is a death sentence. Got it?"

This was Shirou's first encounter with Moss, but based on Morgan's explanation—and their absolutely hostile appearance—he needed no further convincing. He gripped the holy spear tightly and took a battle stance.

But this time, the moment he held the spear, something felt… different.

A flood of memories poured into his mind—glimpses of how to wield the weapon, moments of battle from someone else's life. Compared to before, his grasp over the lance had significantly improved.

That confirmed his suspicion: ever since projecting the Holy Lance, Shirou had begun to inherit fragments of its original wielder's experience—Artoria, the Spear-Wielding King.

He wasn't a spearmaster yet, nor could he match legendary Heroes who had trained with the lance for decades, but he was now more than capable of wielding it proficiently.

And if the need arose, Shirou knew he could even invoke its sealed power—to unleash a shockwave capable of leveling a city.

—No. Not yet. You're still only human. You're unworthy of a divine construct. Forcing it open could shatter your soul.

—This isn't something you should touch right now. Wait for the right moment.

A warning echoed within him—perhaps from the spear itself or his own instincts. Shirou shelved the thought, reserving the lance's full release as a final trump card.

The Moss were terrifying, but the situation wasn't yet desperate.

"Twenty of them…" Morgan murmured, her back pressed to Shirou's as they stood back-to-back. "That's an unnatural number. What in the world is the Mirror Clan doing, letting this many roam the Lakeside?"

Though Morgan didn't share the average fairy's fear of the Moss, her mana reserves weren't infinite. If it came to an all-out fight, survival would be a toss-up.

And while these Moss weren't the strongest of their kind… neither she nor Shirou could be called "strong" yet.

"Whining won't help, Aesc. That's not like you. Let's focus on breaking through." Shirou smiled, already bracing to charge. "Buff me with enhancement magecraft. I'll have a better shot that way."

Morgan was capable of various combat-oriented magecrafts—except those involving plant elements—and her reinforcement spells were far superior to Shirou's own clumsy self-taught ones.

She nodded, chanting softly as she raised her staff. Light enveloped Shirou.

Immediately, he felt his body grow stronger—his arms surged with power, his legs more agile, like he had become a superhuman.

Of course, one strike to the head and he'd still die.

"Full-body reinforcement… amazing."

Even Shirou, who wasn't well-versed in magecraft theory, knew how rare this was. Few magi could enhance the entire body with such precision and efficiency.

Morgan was, without question, a prodigy—perhaps the only limit to her was her finite mana pool.

Give her more magical energy, and she could likely reshape continents.

"Don't underestimate me, Shirou! Let's go!"

Morgan smirked.

"Right. Try not to fall behind me." Shirou readied the spear and burst forward.

Two Moss blocked the path. With a deep breath, Shirou lunged.

—In the memories passed down through the spear, the Spear-Wielding King had also charged through encirclement like this, without hesitation. Leading knights. Carving a path forward.

Shirou didn't think himself her equal—but he could at least act as she did.

A single-point thrust. Precision. Power. Resolve.

The Moss retaliated. Those closest to the path expelled dark purple fluids—detaching part of their bodies to form a swirling vortex of cursed mana.

Immediately afterward, from within the vortex of mana, spheres of darkness shot forth—each orb laced with a sinister magical energy.

Getting hit by one of those wouldn't just injure you—Shirou knew even a graze could strip a person of their very life force. He didn't dare underestimate it. Raising the Holy Lance, he swung to intercept.

Thanks to his rapidly improving spear technique—sharpened by the lance's memory—Shirou successfully deflected the incoming barrage. The dark spheres shattered into harmless wisps of prana, their corrupting curses utterly neutralized.

After parrying the attack, Shirou countered. From behind him, Morgan unleashed a spell, launching several light bullets with precision.

The projectiles tore through the air like gunfire, striking the approaching Moss. Their gelatinous bodies shuddered, appearing to melt where they were hit.

"Not enough to deal fatal damage… my mana reserves really are too low," Morgan muttered bitterly.

Even so, her assault interrupted the Mosses' advance. Seizing the opening, Shirou sprinted forward once more.

Just ten more seconds—if he could hold out ten more seconds, they'd break through the encirclement.

But then, it happened.

The Moss let out piercing, guttural shrieks. And from those shrieks… a grotesque transformation began—something utterly unexpected and ominous.