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IBHJ 1114
🕑 Added 2025-01-03 03:41:20 +0000 UTCInside the palace's grand chambers, the strategist rubbed his temples. "The Imperial Armor failed to catch them."
"The transfer problems were my fault." The White Apostle stood rigidly before him. "The supplies weren't ready in time."
"This isn't about you." The strategist paced the marble floor. "That vulnerability has shown up again - the same one that let an assassin into our capital and attempt to kill the Emperor. They failed, but it showed us how dangerous this gap in our defenses is. It's also why we can't find their hideout."
"I see." The White Apostle hesitated. "Won't His Majesty be angry about Tintagel's failure?"
The strategist gave a short laugh. "You don't get it. His Majesty is too busy playing with his collection. Now that he has the Black Grail, he spends his days observing other worlds and deciding which ones to add next. Why would we bother him with something so minor?"
"Of course. His Majesty must have his hands full choosing between worlds." The White Apostle nodded. "Our job is to handle these problems so His Majesty doesn't have to worry about them. But with this weakness in our defenses, we still can't track down their base."
The strategist waved his hand dismissively. "Since they disappeared while under Ector and Morgan's supervision, we'll leave this matter to them."
"Very well. But I still don't understand why you specifically arranged for Princess Guinevere to be placed in the army. Morgan must be furious about this. She's probably cursing your name right now."
"Let her curse all she wants - she's done it countless times before." The strategist paused. "But regarding the princess... it wasn't until foreign enemies invaded Camlann that I discovered someone in the empire had avoided eternity's embrace. Camlann had hidden her existence remarkably well. Those foreign invaders who attacked the city - their true target was her all along. That's why I want to understand what makes her so special."
"If you're that curious, why not have Morgan bring her in for study? Why go through all this trouble?"
The strategist's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Our empire has existed for one hundred million years, yet only now do we discover someone within our borders who hasn't embraced eternity. Don't you think there must be more to this story?"
...
The crescent moon lit up the forest below. A small campfire burned between the trees, pushing back against the night's cold.
Shirou sat on a fallen log by the fire, wearing only his wet underwear. He turned a fish on a wooden stick, sniffling as he cooked.
"My nose hasn't been this stuffed up in ages." He rubbed his nose with his free hand. "Really reminds me that this is my real body, not my Servant one." Another sniffle. "I can't get sick now - there's too much at stake. My body used to be stronger than this. Back when I was fighting Vortigern, I handled way worse. Of course, I had the black mud then..."
"ACHOO!"
His sneeze rang through the trees. He moved closer to the flames, eyeing his wet clothes spread out nearby.
Swimming through the city river to escape, Shirou avoided going straight downstream where soldiers might follow him. Instead, he moved between different branches of the river, only climbing out after he was sure he was safe. That careful choice had consequences - his body now showed signs of a nasty chill, making his head spin with dizziness.
The situation was almost laughable. Even during his powerless childhood years, he had never gotten sick from common illnesses - the black mud had always been there to protect him from any disease.
But now the black mud was gone from his body, and with his magical energy sealed by the crown, he had become just an ordinary person.
This change was unavoidable, when he thought about it. The Records, the Formless Vortex, the black mud - all of them had been external things, powers that others had given to him. Even his Origin and magic circuits could be considered gifts from his physical body, rather than powers that truly belonged to the soul of "Fujimaru Shirou" the transmigrator.
Everything was external.
So when the Emperor and the Eternal Empire took away all these external powers, he became nothing more than a regular transmigrator.
"This is ridiculous. My past self made me promise to take better care of this body. Look how well that's going." He looked at his dripping clothes. "Can't even keep my underwear dry."
He sighed, and his stomach growled. He was hungry.
Looking down at the half-raw fish, his face fell. If he still had the black mud in his body, he wouldn't have to deal with hunger or sickness.
As this thought crossed his mind, he shook his head - he had depended too much on the black mud. Ever since the awakening flame had been lit, he'd been using the black mud to get through this entire cycle of reincarnation.
Gilgamesh, Forest of Einnashe, Vortigern, Crimson Moon, Demonic Bodhisattva... facing every powerful enemy, he had relied on black mud one way or another to survive.
Even though the black mud eventually couldn't keep up with how strong he became, he couldn't deny one thing - as part of his agreement with [All the World's Evil], the black mud had always protected him when things got really bad, all because he never rejected or abandoned it. Now that it was suddenly gone, he felt completely lost without it.
The fish he was cooking wasn't done yet, and he knew one wouldn't be enough to fill him up. He propped the half-grilled fish near the fire, grabbed another wooden branch from beside him, and headed to the river.
Even without his special powers, the skills he'd learned as Shirou the transmigrator were still his own. He easily speared another fish.
"Haha! Tough luck for you!"
He grinned at his catch. Unlike other kings, it didn't take much to make him happy - his wants were simple.
Holding the branch with the fish, he walked back to his camp at a slow pace. This speed would help him save energy, and he'd get back just as the first fish finished cooking. Though his underwear was still cold and wet against his skin.
But as he neared the camp, he heard something that made him stop.
"Nom nom... this is so good... nom nom, I was nearly starving to death when I found this perfectly grilled fish. Ah... this must be His Majesty the Emperor's blessing. Nom nom..."
Someone was there! His eyes narrowed as he crept behind a large tree to peek at his camp. He spotted a magus sitting with her back to him, eating his fish with obvious enjoyment, making pleased noises with every bite.
Damn it, A thief!
His eyes flashed with anger - that was HIS grilled fish!
If he'd already eaten, he might have let such a small thing go. But he was starving too! And she was eating it with such obvious delight!
The thief looked like an empire citizen though, and since he was wearing the crown and being hunted, common sense said he should swallow his anger and quietly slip away. But there was one big problem - his clothes were still next to the campfire!
