IBHJ 1397

Six Grand Saint Graphs.

Including the one he used to incarnate himself—seven in total.

“In my haste to arrive, I only brought these seven,” the First Emperor announced. “One was spent on my own manifestation. The remaining six—divide them among yourselves as you see fit.”

“Wait. Wait a second! What do you mean, ‘only seven’? Are you saying… you made more?!”

The Emperor didn’t answer.

He just smiled.

That infuriating smug little smile said everything:

Yes. Of course he had more.

And even these seven fakes were enough to leave half the group visibly short-circuiting.

“From the moment I first witnessed you Heroic Spirits,” the Emperor continued, “I understood the flaw in your design. If I could bind you with mimic Grand Graphs—expand your cores—then perhaps we might possess a sliver of hope. A shame I had so little time to perfect them…”

He gave them a kind, almost paternal glance. “But now—surely you can all smile as brightly as I do.”

Everyone: “……”

Let’s be honest. These weren’t just fancy upgrades. Grand Graphs were god-tier. Even fakes could shake the foundation of battle itself. Any resistance they might have had melted faster than snow under a sun.

And just like that, preparations began.

The target: the corrupted Fusang Tree.

Its crown held ten black suns, each functioning as a living core. They had to be severed, one by one, before the tree drained the Inner Sea completely.

And the Emperor’s grand strategy?

“…It’s just splitting into teams and hitting the cores,” Hinako muttered, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “That’s it? That’s your big, imperial plan?”

The Emperor chuckled as if she’d complimented him. “You still haven’t learned tactics, I see.”

Hinako’s hands curled into fists. He’s doing it again.

And as if that wasn’t enough—he’d paired her with him.

Using one of the Grand Graphs herself, she didn’t exactly have a say.

And then things got worse.

“Um… excuse me. I’m Morrigan. Just a small-time magus who dabbles in minor spells…” She bowed awkwardly, eyes flicking between the Emperor and Hinako.

“Oh? You must be the one Hinako often mentions,” he said, giving her a curious once-over.

Then, with all the charm of a guillotine:

“Your body’s saturated with foul sorcery. In the Qin Empire, you would’ve been executed by slow dismemberment.”

Morrigan turned pale. Trembling, she shot a pleading look at Hinako.

This was a man who forged Grand Class Graphs in his spare time. Getting on his bad side was a fast track to reincarnation.

But the Emperor merely waved a hand.

“All under Heaven belongs to the Emperor,” he said. “However, I am traveling incognito. No need to fear imperial authority today.”

“Oh… thank goodness,” she let out a long breath.

Hinako glared at her. ‘How do you not realize he’s doing this on purpose?!’

“You remind me of the old Shirou,” Morrigan said softly, smiling up at the Emperor.

There was something familiar about the way he carried himself. Commanding, yes—but never cruel. His presence was heavy, but not suffocating. Like gravity. Regal, yet oddly reassuring.

Back when Shirou had been a king, he’d carried himself the same way.

“Shirou?” the First Emperor repeated. His gaze drifted toward the sealed black vortex across the horizon. “Ah. So he is the main actor of this war.”

Morrigan gave a slow, solemn nod.

“I’ve heard the name from Hinako and Koyanskaya,” the Emperor mused, smiling faintly. “A pity we never met.”

“Well… you’ve manifested now, haven’t you?” Morrigan said. “You will.”

The Emperor didn’t respond. Just offered a small, unreadable smile—the kind that held an empire’s worth of weight behind it.

Then Hinako abruptly cast a telepathic spell.

—‘Morrigan. Stay away from him. He’s dangerous.’

—‘Dangerous?’ Morrigan blinked, confused. ‘But… isn’t he on our side? He seems really approachable...’

Hinako grimaced.

—‘Approachable? Ally? Don’t be fooled. From a certain angle, this man is more dangerous than a Beast. I mean it. Don’t let your guard down.’

—‘O-Okay...’ Morrigan replied, shrinking a little.

The First Emperor glanced over at Hinako with a knowing smile.

She instinctively edged closer to Morrigan. She could already tell—he knew she’d been badmouthing him telepathically.

“This makes twice now I’ve climbed the Fusang Tree,” the First Emperor said casually, arms folded as he looked up at the looming branches. “Hinako, try not to slow me down this time.”

“Excuse me?! Who slowed who down?!” she shot back, instantly bristling.

He chuckled. “Weren’t you the one who screamed like a child when Taiyi tossed you off the tree? If I hadn’t slipped you those cinnabar pills, you'd be a smear on bedrock.”

“Wait—seriously? This happened at the Chinese Connection Point?” Morrigan asked, eyes wide.

The Emperor raised a brow. “She didn’t tell you?”

Morrigan shook her head. “Nope. Just said the connection point was resolved. No details. At all.”

“Of course she didn’t,” he said with a grin. “She spent half her time in our world humiliating herself. In your terms… she was the comic relief. I assume she edited the shameful bits out.”

“You bastard!” Hinako snapped. “So what if I didn’t mention it? You think I’m mute now?! What about you, huh? You followed me around like a lost dog, calling me ‘Fairy Sister’ every five seconds!”

“Ah… childhood memories.” He gave a wistful sigh. “How they’ve aged.”

They kept going, volleying insults and flashbacks like it was a spectator sport. Like how Hinako had literally fallen from the sky on arrival—landing on top of a scrawny, thirteen-year-old Emperor, who at the time was a political hostage in Zhao. From that moment on, he trailed her everywhere, calling her “Fairy Sister” with the stubborn sincerity of a stray cat that’s picked its person.

Or the time they climbed the reborn Fusang Tree to confront Taiyi and extract the Black Grail—only to get in a shouting match with a flock of giant feathered people. Hinako exploded so many times during the climb that it eventually woke Taiyi, who hurled her off the tree just to shut her up.

Morrigan was so caught up listening, she didn’t even notice when they arrived at their destination.

Then the Emperor stopped.

“There it is,” he said, gesturing ahead. “Our target.”

The Seventh Black Sun.

Nestled in its core, drinking from the veins of the Inner Sea, was a monstrous creature—a three-legged Jinwu. A golden crow, now pitch-black, warped and swollen with corruption.

It opened one gleaming eye.

And the air thickened like tar.

“A retelling of the Ten Suns myth?” Hinako muttered, drawing her twin blades—only to glance over and find the First Emperor had already hurled a mercury-forged sword at the beast.

It dissolved midair.

A sharp hiss. Then—

SCREEEEEE—

A scream ripped across the sky. Black fire exploded from the Jinwu’s body in a wave of scorching chaos.

Morrigan reacted instantly, hands flying through a complex chant. A translucent field flared to life just in time to block the worst of it.

“…Interesting technique,” the Emperor said casually. Then he turned and walked away.

“Huh? Wait—where are you—” Morrigan started, but another pulse of black fire cut her off. She gritted her teeth, reinforcing the shield.

By the time the flare faded, the Emperor was gone.

“Let him go,” Hinako said, eyes glowing with kaleidoscopic light. She wasn’t in her normal body anymore—this was her Grand Class vessel, and it radiated danger like a drawn blade.

"That emperor may be hard to read. Unpredictable, sure—but he doesn’t lie. If he said he’ll handle it, he will." Her blades spun once in her hands, humming with prana. “Our job is to keep the thing busy.”

“…Right.” Morrigan steadied her breathing. “Holding the line.”

She planted her feet and began chanting again, eyes locked on the corrupted sun-creature ahead.

The next wave was coming.

And neither of them planned on backing down.