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IBHJ 1395
🕑 Added 2025-06-30 23:40:22 +0000 UTCManaka stared at Ayaka like she’d just kicked a puppy.
“You... you really shouldn’t call me that,” she mumbled, clutching her chest. “It’s bad for my heart.”
Ayaka blinked. Twice. “…What?”
“Never mind,” Manaka muttered. “Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”
She spun on her heel and jabbed a finger toward the black vortex. “Mash! Set them loose!”
"Yes, ma’am!" Mash hoisted her white shield and slammed it down like a meteor. The ground shuddered. The vortex popped like a stress bubble hitting its boiling point.
Mordred, watching this happen, narrowed her eyes at the shining shield. “Why is it always that thing that works on Manaka’s black mud?”
A voice piped up from somewhere in her coat. “Because, dear girl, it’s the legacy of the Ideal King~!”
The Grail tumbled out of Mordred’s jacket with a wheezy, delighted shriek. “And wouldn’t you know—it’s from a knight who once swore fealty to you! Oh, the delicious irony!”
“You little gremlin,” Mordred growled, grabbing her sword and smacking the Grail away like it owed her money.
“Waaahhhh—!”
Its cries ricocheted around the half-collapsed cathedral as it pinwheeled through the air.
…
The moment the vortex shattered, Gilgamesh and Arthur shot out like arrows, weapons raised and ready to skewer something.
Mash stepped up to guard Manaka—but Ayaka beat her to it, arms out like she was trying to stop traffic with nothing but determination. “Wait! She’s not the same Manaka!”
Gilgamesh and Arthur paused mid-swing.
“…Two Manakas?” Arthur asked warily.
The older Manaka sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. But don’t worry. I’m not about to throw myself at you. Honestly, just thinking about what she did makes me want to file an apology with the Root itself.”
“Oh?” Arthur exhaled, the tension sliding off his shoulders. Honestly, he’d been one wrong word away from curling up in a fetal position. That other Manaka had been clinging to him like a cursed blanket.
“Long story short—Beast VII’s done for. Mash handled it.” The older Manaka gestured vaguely toward the crater that used to be a vortex. “But something worse took its place. Her. That version of me fully matured as a vessel of the Lord of Salvation. And frankly… there’s nobody left in this galaxy who can put her down.”
Arthur’s brow tightened. “Then she’s after the anchor in London?”
“No. If that were the case, she would’ve gone straight for it. And for you.” Her gaze flicked to him. “But she didn’t. Which means she’s here for something else.”
Gilgamesh crossed his arms. “Charming speech. But your words are as worthless as the coinage of a lost kingdom. We verify facts—especially from someone who shouldn’t exist.”
Mash stepped forward to say something, but Mordred cut her off with a hand and a subtle shake of the head.
“I understand. Go ahead,” Manaka said, nodding.
Ayaka nodded and activated her comm spell. A few moments later, Merlin’s reply came through. The anchor was untouched. No threats. No attacks. Not even a suspicious breeze.
“Strange,” Gilgamesh muttered. “So if the anchor wasn’t the target… what was?”
For a second, he wished his divine sight still worked—clairvoyance, omniscience, anything. But this war had scrambled the rules. Even cheating was off the table.
“She was probably after Arthur,” Ayaka said, glancing at him. She knew that brand of obsession too well—the way it wrapped around someone’s mind and soured everything.
Arthur’s face drained a little. “Great.”
“No,” the older Manaka said. “It’s not that.”
Ayaka tilted her head. “Then what is it?”
“She’s gone too far for love. Or obsession. Whatever she’s running on now… it isn’t human anymore.” She paused. “Didn’t you notice? The real Manaka Sajyou is dead. Fujimaru Shirou killed her in Shinjuku. What we’re dealing with now is a ghost in a pretty box.”
She looked up—past them, past the crumbling cathedral roof, as if she could feel something watching.
“And the thing pulling her strings… is hiding behind her.”
“The Lord of Salvation,” Mordred spat, her lip curling. “Figures.”
Every damn one of them—pulled like toys on strings.
Mash didn’t speak. She knew she’d hit her limit on understanding somewhere around Beast VII. But even if she couldn’t follow what they were talking about, she could still stand tall with her shield and protect everyone.
“If that thing used her to attack you,” the older Manaka said quietly, “then it wasn’t random. I think… this was about something called the Root-Kill.”
“Root-Kill?” Ayaka repeated. “What is that supposed to be?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Manaka admitted. “It’s just a trace—something I sensed back when we were still one. But I’m certain it was meant for Fujimaru Shirou.”
“Then whatever she came here for—” Gilgamesh began.
“It's gone!” Ayaka suddenly shouted.
Everyone turned.
“What’s gone?” Manaka asked.
“The seed! The seed’s missing!” Ayaka was already rifling through her pockets with rising panic. “The one Koyanskaya gave me—it’s gone!”
Ayaka rummaged through her belongings a second time. Her hands moved faster. Her heart, even faster.
The seed Koyanskaya had given her—gone.
“That must’ve been her goal from the start,” Manaka said, her voice turning grim.
Mordred narrowed her eyes. “What even was that thing?”
“I… I don’t know,” Ayaka admitted. “Koyanskaya gave it to me in South America. She told me to hand it to Hinako-senpai whenever I had the chance. But things kept getting worse, and I… I never followed through.”
Manaka turned to her. “Can you reach her now?”
Mordred gave a sharp nod. “Already prepped a comm spell. Just say the word.”
She activated the spell with a flick, and the spell crackled to life. The line connected—to China.
But the voice that came through wasn’t Hinako’s.
“Oh, the seed given to you?” said a stranger with a bright, cheery lilt—and a grin she could hear.
Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow. “A native water goddess, is it?”
“Oh my, you saw through me that easily?” she replied, sounding far too pleased.
A second later, a rough shove cut her off.
Hinako yanked her aside. “That’s Wuzhiqi. One of the ancient native species here. As for the seed… if it’s what I think it is, then it might be the Fusang Tree.”
Manaka’s eyes narrowed.
“The Fusang Tree…” she murmured. “The World Tree of Eastern myth. The one said to connect Heaven, Earth, and the Underworld…”
“What is it?” Mordred asked. “What did you figure out? Do you know what she’s trying to do?”
Of everyone there, only this version of Manaka—who came from the same place as the original—seemed to understand the implication.
“She’s going to drain the Inner Sea of the Planet dry,” Manaka said.
“What?!”
The word rang across the ruined cathedral.
Then the ground growled beneath their feet.
A low rumble.
And then the quake hit.
RUMBLE—
Manaka sprinted out of the cathedral.
Far across the ruined skyline, the Clock Tower flickered like a mirage—then blinked out of existence.
In its place, something vast began to rise.
A tree. But not one born of any natural world.
Its bark was obsidian black, rippling like fluidized stone. Ten dark rings orbited its crown, each blazing like a miniature sun, their light bending the air around them. From its roots, streams of starlight surged upward—countless luminous threads, feeding those rings with energy pulled straight from the marrow of the planet.
“…What happens if the Inner Sea really is drained?” Mordred asked.
Manaka didn’t answer at first.
Because she didn’t know.
And that silence said more than words.
Even Gilgamesh, usually quick to scoff, was quiet. Arthur’s grip tightened on his blade. Wuzhiqi, still watching through the communication link, tilted her head—but offered nothing.
Some questions didn’t have answers. Like asking what came after the end of everything.
“…I only remember one thing,” Manaka said. “In Eastern myth, the Fusang Tree connected the heavens, the earth, and the underworld. Houyi—the divine archer—climbed it to shoot down the nine suns. And when he broke it afterward, the Age of Gods in the East ended. The realms were severed.”
She looked back at the others.
“In other words—it’s not just a tree. It’s a portal. A gate. And she didn’t just plant it to make a statement. She planted it to bring something through.”
Wuzhiqi gave her a sidelong glance. “You know about Houyi? That’s not something I expected from a foreigner.”
