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IBHJ 1285
🕑 Added 2025-04-24 00:59:17 +0000 UTCThe witch suddenly pulled out her staff, sweeping the desperate people aside. She grabbed Shirou's sleeve and shouted urgently, "What are you doing just standing there? Run!"
Shirou nodded solemnly.
The Eternal Kingdom was now covered in darkness and flames; the once-brilliant Camelot had been consumed by fire. In the middle of the burning landscape stood a column of light reaching up toward the sky. A mysterious voice was directing them toward it.
"Is the King going to abandon us again?"
"The King has abandoned us."
"We have no king anymore. We must save ourselves!"
"Tear down the King's statue! Destroy false hope! We will reclaim our world with our own hands! Our very lives depend on it!"
The people had completely lost their minds, howling like demons as they chased after Shirou and the others across the ground.
"Ignore them," the mysterious voice instructed. "Just get out of here quickly!"
Shirou and the others nodded in agreement. The witch and Mana seemed to relax as well. Clearly, this unknown voice was likely an ally rather than an enemy.
They rushed toward the center of the light pillar.
It was a magnificent, shining Tower of Light.
—Rhongomyniad!
But even the Tower's light couldn't push back the darkness engulfing this world, nor the destructive flames and the heavy despair hanging in the air. This world, this era, this nation had already fallen long ago, becoming nothing more than ruins in history's pages.
Shirou and the others could sense reality itself emanating from the Tower of Light. Without question, passing through it would return them to the real world.
However, as they approached the Tower, a teleportation circle appeared before them. From it emerged Apostle Pendragon, carrying Aife in her arms.
"Morgan...?" The witch stared at her in disbelief.
Apostle Pendragon looked equally surprised to see them. "Humans from Pan-Human history?"
"Scathach!" Aife jumped up from Apostle Pendragon's hold, her eyes wild with intensity as she focused on Scathach.
Just then, a deafening boom echoed across the land, rattling the old standing stones and sending flocks of startled ravens into the sky. The temperature plummeted as a terrifying light—blinding white tinged with electric blue—burst from the horizon.
Scathach raised her arm to shield her eyes as the wave of energy approached, her hair whipping violently in the sudden gale. The light immediately enveloped both Apostle Pendragon and Aife, their silhouettes briefly visible before being consumed by the overwhelming brilliance. Trees bent backward from the force, their leaves stripped away in an instant. The ground itself seemed to tremble as though in fear.
As the initial flash subsided, leaving afterimages dancing in Scathach's vision, an eerie silence fell across the scorched landscape while the air hung heavy with the scent of ozone.
In the aftermath, a woman holding the holy lance Rhongomyniad slowly appeared from the distance. Her armor gleamed with luster despite the dust and ash swirling around her.
The witch gazed at the woman in shock, pointing at herself. "Another one of me..."
"It is as I thought," Scathach said, studying the woman carefully. "It's Artoria!"
The woman holding Rhongomyniad looked exactly like Artoria, but she radiated an undeniable divine presence.
"I am not the King of Knights. I am Rhongomyniad," she stated, her eyes focusing on the glowing spear in Scathach's hand—the one that belonged to Shirou. Her cold expression frowned as she warned, "You must leave this place immediately. The Counter Force will soon discover your escape from the Eternal Cage."
"I have known of their escape from the beginning, Rhongomyniad."
Mordred's body gradually materialized from the Tower of Light. She held a wooden bracelet in her hand and regarded everyone with serene composure. An indescribable higher-dimensional presence washed over them. This was undoubtedly the Incarnation appearing before them!
"The False Emperor," the witch said gravely.
Everyone watched the Incarnation with wary eyes, but she paid no attention to their suspicion and hostility. Instead, she turned toward Rhongomyniad and spoke. "You represent the hope of the kingdom's people. You are the Tower of the End, carrying the continuation of a world. That is why I allow you to manifest in divine form. Yet in the end, you betrayed me."
"You sent me to confront Eternal King. I cannot understand your reasoning. While I do bear resentment toward him, he remains my Master. The Star's Anchor will never betray him, regardless of circumstances. I apologize, Counter Force, but you should have realized long ago that I could never answer your call."
"How unfortunate," the Incarnation replied, her expression unchanged. "Like the others, you too shall remain imprisoned here for eternity."
All this time, Shirou had believed Artoria was guiding him here. The voice had sounded exactly like hers. But now he realized that voice had actually come from his Holy Lance, Rhongomyniad!
If that was true, then where was his Artoria?
He had no time to dwell on this question as the Incarnation stood before them, presenting an immediate threat.
"I am grateful that you saved me from the edge of oblivion and granted me consciousness," Rhongomyniad said. "However, I must inform you that you are not my master, nor can you ever be!"
With those words, she raised the Holy Lance and unleashed a brilliant beam of light toward the Incarnation. Despite its blinding intensity, the beam seemed trivial in the presence of the Incarnation, dissipating before it could make contact.
Shirou and Scathach looked at each other briefly, then launched a coordinated attack against the Incarnation from opposite directions.
The witch raised her staff to create a protective barrier around Mana before joining the battle. Even with Shirou, Scathach, and Rhongomyniad combined, defeating the Incarnation seemed impossible. Adding the witch to their ranks would hardly change their odds. But perhaps facing impossible challenges was part of what made her journey worthwhile.
"You used Eternal King's record," the Incarnation said as she caught Scathach's Endless Spear, her gaze fixed on Shirou. "I thought you had understood, yet you remain fixated on this path."
"That record contains my achievements, my memories, my experiences—it is part of who I am," he responded, swinging Caliburn at the Incarnation. "How could I not use it?"
The Incarnation caught his sword effortlessly. Her blue eyes were piercing and emotionless as she looked at him. "Are you certain about that?"
Suddenly, countless victims of disaster emerged from the surrounding ruins. Their bodies were broken and mangled, missing limbs, their faces contorted with agony.
"My King, please return to us!" they cried out, reaching toward him with desperate hands.
Seeing the danger, Rhongomyniad called out urgently, "Be careful! These are not real people—they are merely the consciousness of the kingdom's citizens that form the Counter Force!"
With a gesture that distorted the space around her hand, the Incarnation exerted her will like an invisible force field. Scathach and the witch suddenly found themselves immobilized, their limbs locked in place as though encased in invisible amber.
She then replied coldly. "You are mistaken, Rhongomyniad. These people are not merely the consciousness that forms me—they are the actual citizens of the kingdom. People who once supported you and cheered for Shirou, only to be destroyed by Mordred in the end. All of them were infected by the Beast's Grail. Though Mordred destroyed their physical bodies, their souls remain trapped, neither truly alive nor dead. They are just like those reanimated corpses you encountered at the Shinjuku connection point, forever wandering this devastated kingdom as if in hell. They long for life, for escape from this torment, for a chance at happiness!"
Shirou closed his eyes. "I'm sorry—"
Before he could finish, black mud rose from behind him, forming countless hands that seized the reaching arms of the disaster victims.
He opened his eyes, his gaze now clear and resolute. "But Eternal King has already disappeared along with history; the person standing before you is Fujimaru Shirou! What I seek—what Shirou seeks—is his own future!"
