Konoha Year 48.
Conflicts between nations continued to flare along their borders.
Not long after the latest Chunin Exams concluded, Tsunade, one of the Legendary Sannin, left the village alongside her disciple Shizune.
At the same time, the mysterious disappearance of the Third Kazekage pushed the already unstable Hidden Sand Village to the brink.
Finally losing its last shred of reason, Sunagakure declared war on the Hidden Leaf Village, marking the prelude to the Third Great Ninja War.
---
Konoha Year 49 — Summer.
The disputes among the Five Great Nations had reached an irreconcilable point.
The Eight-Tails Jinchuriki, Killer Bee, together with the next Raikage, A, invaded Konoha's borders.
They fought the Yellow Flash, Namikaze Minato, and were narrowly defeated.
Winter.
The Third Raikage faced ten thousand Iwagakure shinobi alone and perished in battle from exhaustion.
The deaths of both the Third Kazekage and the Third Raikage officially defined this conflict as the Third Great Ninja War.
The Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist infiltrated the Land of Fire, launching a surprise attack on Konoha.
They were intercepted by the Konoha genin Might Duy, who used the Eight Gates to stop them—four of the seven were killed, and the remaining three fled.
Meanwhile, a unit led by Uchiha Tera was dispatched to the Iwagakure frontlines.
Among them was Uchiha Fugaku, the clan head, who brought along his four-year-old son Uchiha Itachi for firsthand experience on the battlefield.
---
Konoha Year 50 — Spring.
The Kannabi Bridge was declared by the Land of Fire as a vital strategic location against the Land of Earth.
The Uchiha squad led by Uchiha Tera was reassigned there to reinforce the frontlines...
---
"Itachi… wake up, Itachi!"
His father's anxious voice echoed beside his ear.
Inside a dim tent, Uchiha Itachi slowly opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was his father's familiar face, filled with concern.
What… happened to me?
Seeing his son awaken, Uchiha Fugaku exhaled in relief.
"Thank goodness, you're all right."
"What happened, Father?"
Sitting up, Itachi rubbed his temples. His head felt swollen, as if he had just woken from an endless dream.
"You took down an enemy who tried to ambush us," Fugaku replied softly. "A Stone genin. Five years old, and already capable of defeating an Iwa shinobi… as expected of my son."
An Iwa genin?
Itachi struggled to recall what had happened.
From the haze of confusion, fragmented memories emerged—
As the son of the Uchiha clan head, he had undergone harsh training since infancy.
This time, he had followed the main Uchiha force to the border with Iwagakure, assigned to support duties—primarily cleaning up after battles.
During one such cleanup, he found an Iwa ninja still clinging to life.
The man's dying request was simple: a sip of water.
Out of compassion, Itachi poured a little from his canteen to wet the man's lips.
But in the next instant, the supposedly dying ninja lunged like a mad beast, swinging a kunai toward him.
Instinctively, Itachi reacted—
He met the attack with his own kunai.
"I felt resistance at first… then my blade cut through his neck easily."
"The blood that spurted out was hot… and smelled of iron."
"His eyes were first shocked… then lifeless."
Itachi muttered unconsciously, the sensations returning to him—the feeling, the smell, the sight.
Fear. Panic. Disgust.
Every emotion mixed together.
"Itachi, what are you saying?"
Fugaku could barely hear his son's whispers. His lips were moving, but no sound came out.
With a sigh, Fugaku comforted him.
"Your first kill… no matter how much you've trained for it, it's natural to feel uneasy. In time, you'll grow used to it."
Itachi raised his head as if to explain, but a frown tightened across his brow.
"…I'm fine, Father."
He looked directly into Fugaku's eyes, suppressing the urge to avert his gaze.
After a pause, he quietly asked,
"But… why did he try to kill me? I didn't mean him any harm…"
Fugaku fell silent, then replied with a weary sigh.
"Because this… is war."
"War?"
"Yes," Fugaku said calmly. "Not a battle between individuals—but between nations."
"Strangers kill each other without meaning.
Even if they've never met, even if there's no hatred between them—
once the blades are drawn, they have no choice but to fight."
Itachi's gaze dimmed. Remembering what he had seen since arriving on the battlefield, a feeling of disgust welled up from within.
"So… that's what it is."
Fugaku caught the rejection in his son's tone and said sternly,
"This is the world of shinobi, Itachi. Listen well."
"Do not forget what you've seen on this battlefield."
"This is what it means to be a ninja. This is the true nature of our world."
"If you cannot adapt to it quickly—if you cannot accept it—you'll pay a terrible price… even with your life!"
Though disgusted at heart, Itachi remained expressionless and nodded obediently.
"I understand, Father."
But as he spoke, he pressed a hand against his temple, his face troubled.
"...Father, I think I need a moment to calm down."
Fugaku hesitated, then nodded.
"Fine. You have the afternoon."
"We'll rest here until evening, then move toward Kannabi Bridge."
"The battles ahead will be fiercer.
Even if you're only assisting from the rear, I want you to adapt quickly—to understand the atmosphere of war."
"I understand, Father."
Fugaku nodded in approval and left the tent.
---
Itachi sat quietly.
He had always been mature—wise beyond his years.
From birth, he seemed different from other children, more thoughtful, more aware.
While others played ninja games in the village, he—barely five—was already at the frontlines, experiencing the cruelty of real war.
Cruel, huh…
After Fugaku left, silence fell over the tent.
The faint wind carried in the smell of blood from outside.
He was still near the battlefield, shielded from the sun only by a hastily built tent.
His eyes drifted to a corner he had avoided looking at while his father was present.
There—bathed in the dim sunlight filtering through the fabric—stood a faint, almost ethereal figure.
A beautiful girl, calm and dignified, her entire being seemed to glow faintly like a spirit.
Her long golden hair cascaded to her shoulders, and her eyes shone a deep emerald green.
Her skin was fair as snow, and her features delicate and regal.
Yet the blue-and-white armor that encased her slender frame, paired with her furrowed brows and commanding aura, masked her gentleness beneath the majesty of a warrior.
Rather than calling her a girl—she was more like a sovereign queen.
Noticing his gaze, the girl turned toward him.
With arms folded across her chest, she looked down at the boy seated on the ground and spoke with quiet confidence:
"Nice to meet you for the first time."
"My name is Artoria Pendragon, King of Britain."
Her tone was composed and resolute, as dignified as her appearance.
And as she spoke, a single tuft of hair atop her head rose slightly—whether stirred by the wind or by some invisible force.
---
Note:
This story doesn't involve Fate's original plotlines—only Artoria's character herself.
So even readers unfamiliar with Fate can enjoy it without confusion.
Also… the pacing of this novel will be on the slower side.