I Don’t Want to Be a Heroic Spirit

Despite his golden armor and unyielding spirit, Karna's relentless onslaught left Artoria struggling to keep up.

While Artoria's protective golden aura could rival Karna's Kavacha and Kundala, the latter's divine protection was a miracle of creation itself—flawless, impenetrable, and entirely independent of its wielder's mana reserves.

Under Karna's unrelenting assault, cracks began to form in Artoria's defenses.

Her frustration mounted.

In the chaos, Artoria allowed a calculated gap in her guard. It was a gamble, and Karna fell for it.

With a sudden, devastating sweep, Karna's Vasavi Shakti smashed into her side, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain.

But then, with startling swiftness, Artoria trapped the spear under her arm.

"What—?!"

Karna's shock froze him for an instant—just enough time for Artoria to seize the upper hand.

She lunged, her left hand gripping his face, and with tremendous force, she slammed him into the ground.

Boom!

The earth split beneath them, forming jagged fissures as shockwaves rippled outward. The resulting crater glowed with the molten fury of lava as Karna's celestial fire erupted from the cracks.

But Artoria countered with her own radiant might. A towering golden column of light burst forth, eclipsing the dawn's first rays.

Just as the radiance peaked, Karna's voice roared from within.

"Brahmastra Kundala!"

A crimson beam surged through the golden column, cleaving through the heavens.

Artoria was forced to disengage. Emerging from the dissipating light, she bore a scorched palm, the edges blackened and raw.

Tch. She had underestimated him.

Still, she wasn't the only one showing wear.

As Karna charged once more, Artoria noted his labored breaths, the slight trembling of his hands. The fiery spear he wielded was still deadly, but his reserves were clearly draining.

Then she felt it—a surge of savage energy barreling toward her.

She spun, raising a glowing shield just in time.

Crash!

Achilles' spear slammed into her barrier, fracturing it on impact.

"Don't you dare forget about me!" Achilles snarled, his blood-streaked face twisted in a wicked grin.

The cracks in the shield spread rapidly, but Achilles didn't let up. With a ferocious kick, he shattered it entirely.

"I owe you one for that punch earlier!"

Leaping high, he brought his spear down with bone-shattering force.

BOOM!

The strike landed squarely on Artoria's shoulder, driving her into the ground. The resulting shockwave uprooted trees and sent boulders soaring skyward before shattering into fragments.

But the onslaught wasn't over.

Karna was next. With his spear blazing like a miniature sun, he drove it toward her heart.

The attack struck true, golden flames roaring as they licked at Artoria's battered form.

And then, a third blow came from the shadows.

Thwip!

A single arrow, almost silent in its flight, pierced through the chaos. Unlike the previous attacks, it wasn't sheer force but precision that defined its impact.

The arrow struck Artoria's side, bypassing her defenses entirely.

It was Archer—Atalanta—who had fired it, her divine bow drawn to full moon.

Her arrows, blessed by Artemis herself, carried a power that transcended mortal limitations. While Karna and Achilles battered Artoria's defenses with brute strength, Atalanta's shot had found its mark with surgical precision.

Artoria staggered, clutching the wound as golden light flickered around her.

Achilles laughed. "Still standing, huh? You really are something else! But let's see how you handle this!"

With a deafening crack, the skies tore open.

A brilliant green meteor streaked downward, aimed squarely at Artoria.

It was no mere celestial phenomenon—it was Achilles' chariot. Pulled by three legendary steeds, the war chariot was a manifestation of his indomitable might and glory.

On the battlefield, it had trampled armies and crushed foes beneath its wheels.

Achilles didn't even need to mount it. He simply directed the chariot to charge, its unstoppable momentum poised to obliterate everything in its path.

Faced with a continuous assault from three relentless warriors, Artoria had no time to evade.

The chariot closed in, a whirlwind of divine power and raw destruction.

And then, an enraged voice shattered the battlefield.

"[Rebellion Against My Beautiful Father!]"

---

T/N: bro Artoria was getting jumped ToT

Ahem! Gather close, esteemed audience! Do you comprehend the privilege of basking in my radiance? Truly, you're witnessing history in the making—a performance unparalleled in the annals of Fontaine!

Ah, but don't get distracted! Let me be clear: this brilliance isn't conjured from thin air. No, no, no! It requires effort, dedication, and… well, a touch of your generosity. If you fancy being part of something truly extraordinary, do step forward here: [patreon.com/WiseTL].

Oh, but wait! You're probably wondering, "Furina, how can someone as magnificent as you need assistance?" To that, I say: why deny mortals the honor of contributing to such greatness? Supporting me is supporting art, and who doesn't want to say they were instrumental in a legend's rise?

Now, off you go. Make your offerings, and perhaps, perhaps, I'll acknowledge you in my next soliloquy!

— Furina ✨