Chapter : This Is My Holy Grail War [0]
The boy had died. Only his soul, carrying a fragment of his will, lingered in the mortal world.
By sheer mental fortitude, he clung to existence, driven by a single desire: to remain alive.
But his memories began to fade, slipping away one by one—his birth, his past, and even the moment of his death. He tried desperately to grasp at his remaining sense of self, his name. Yet even that was slipping through his fingers… until there was almost nothing left.
A dead soul, bereft of a body, inevitably begins to disintegrate. His will faltered, his consciousness unraveled.
It was then that he suddenly heard a strange voice, like a drowning man clutching at a final, life-saving straw.
"Do you… want to survive?"
The voice was deep and deliberate, its tone ambiguous—neither distinctly male nor female. The boy couldn't discern whether it belonged to an elderly person or a child. The words themselves were faint, but their meaning was clear enough.
"Of course!" he responded without hesitation, his voice resolute and firm, despite the helplessness weighing on him.
At this moment, the boy had no choice. His primal will to survive surged, forcing out every other thought.
Only those who have come within a hair's breadth of Hell can understand the terror of death—the feeling of watching your will dissolve, little by little, while being utterly powerless to stop it. It was unbearable.
"I want to live…"
Now, the boy could only place his faith in the low murmur within his mind.
"Good. You'll need a little help."
With these words, the boy's soul began to stabilize. His will grew firm once more, like a drowning man breaking the surface and drawing a deep, life-giving breath.
"Living comes at a price. There are no free meals in this world."
"Then… what's the price?"
His voice trembled with uncertainty as he asked the question, too afraid to inquire about the identity of the speaker, lest they disappear and extinguish his fragile hope for survival.
"Participate in a sweet little game." The voice carried a hint of amusement. "Whatever you do, as long as you emerge victorious, you'll be revived."
"I'm in," the boy replied without hesitation.
"Remember, in this game, countless people will try to kill you, to prevent you from surviving. When that happens, show no mercy. Raise your blade and strike them down."
"Why?!" The boy's heart pounded with unease—an odd sensation, as he no longer had a physical heart.
"Don't ask questions. Just answer me. Can you do it?" The voice seemed intrigued, unconcerned by the passage of time.
"I can!" the boy shouted, mustering every ounce of strength.
"Very well… then join the Holy Grail War."
The Holy Grail War?
At the mention of those words, fragments of his lost memory came rushing back. The boy understood what the Holy Grail War entailed. But he was just an ordinary boy—how could he possibly participate in the ritual, a banquet meant for Heroic Spirits?
"I can't…" he admitted honestly. He knew that even against magi, let alone Heroic Spirits, he stood no chance.
"You'll need a little more help. How about this…"
As the words faded, the space around him changed. The boy found himself in complete darkness—no sights, no sounds, no sensations. It was as though he were adrift in a void.
"Customize your attributes, 'HERO.'"
In the pitch-black void, a glowing screen appeared, projected directly into his consciousness. Its text was crisp and unmistakable:
Strength: E
Endurance: E
Agility: E
Mana: E
Luck: E
Noble Phantasm: None
Skills: None
Without a doubt, these were the attributes of a regular person—plain and unremarkable. Such lowly stats wouldn't even register on the scale of Heroic Spirits, who were ranked by legends. The boy's E-rank scores were only at the minimum because the system didn't allow for anything lower.
"Here are six attribute points for you to distribute…"
Six glowing points materialized on the screen. The boy quickly grasped their purpose—it was just like distributing skill points in a video game.
Surveying the stats, the boy's gaze immediately landed on [Luck]. If any attribute could spell disaster at its lowest rank, it was definitely Luck.
"Upgrade Luck by one," he said, uncertain of how to proceed. The moment he spoke, his Luck rose from E to D. In that instant, he understood how to control the system.
With one point used, five remained. The boy knew he didn't have much room to experiment. Having some knowledge of the Holy Grail War, he understood the purpose of each attribute.
His primary goal was to survive, so he ruled out Strength first.
Without sufficient Agility or Endurance, even high Strength would be useless. And since he couldn't distribute enough points to balance his stats against Heroic Spirits, he could only focus on a single attribute.
Endurance was the next to go.
Even if he maxed out his Endurance, how could he hope to withstand Rider's [Gordius Wheel], Heracles' overwhelming strikes, a fatal blow from the Holy Sword, or Archer Gilgamesh's [Ea]? He couldn't.
This left him with Agility and Mana.
The boy dismissed Mana, knowing he couldn't wield magic. That left Agility as his sole viable choice.
At least… with speed, he could run.
Agility also translated to explosive power and attack potential. With his mind made up, the boy gave his next command.
"Upgrade Agility."
...
With each point spent, his Agility climbed from E to A.
When he tried to use his final point to raise it further, a notification appeared:
[Insufficient points. You need three points to upgrade from A to A+.]
Out of six points, the boy had already spent five. He carefully considered how to use the last one.
To win the Holy Grail War, he needed the power to kill Heroic Spirits. Agility alone wouldn't suffice—so he made his decision.
"Upgrade Strength by one."
His Strength rose to D, and his attribute points were fully allocated:
Strength: D
Endurance: E
Agility: A
Mana: E
Luck: D
"Remember, each Servant you kill grants you one additional attribute point."
"Now, it's time to test your luck. You'll receive one random Noble Phantasm and one random skill."
First, the boy received his Noble Phantasm:
[You have obtained a B-rank Noble Phantasm: For Someone's Glory.]
He vaguely remembered this as a disguise-type Noble Phantasm, belonging to Lancelot, the Knight of the Lake.
"A weak draw," he muttered, sighing at his poor luck. He pinned his hopes on the skill.
"You have obtained an A-rank skill: Mind's Eye (Fake)."
A high-level skill, though not particularly powerful. Still, when combined with his Agility, it would at least allow him to hold his own against Heroic Spirits.
"Survive one Holy Grail War, and you'll earn another skill or Noble Phantasm."
"Survive…?" The boy found this odd. In his memory, the Holy Grail War had always been a kill-or-be-killed battle.
"Defeat even one Servant, and you'll qualify for the next Holy Grail War. Fail to achieve anything, and you'll be lost forever."
The boy understood, though doubt lingered. Could defeating one Servant truly secure him a place in the next war?
"Due to your Noble Phantasm's properties, you qualify for the Assassin class."
His stats updated once more:
Strength: D
Endurance: E
Agility: A → A+
Mana: E → D
Luck: D
Noble Phantasm: B
Skill: A
"Let the game begin."
As the voice faded, silence fell.
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(Author's Note: This story will not delve into detailed explanations of the Holy Grail War's lore. To preserve the reading experience, only relevant details will appear in the main text. Apologies for any inconvenience. Thank you for reading!)
T/N: WOOOO NOT A GENSHIN FIC YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE