IBHJ 1396

Wuzhiqi turned to Ayaka, her expression more serious than before. “She must’ve sensed it coming. That’s why she gave you the Fusang seed. It was probably meant as a last resort—a way out for humanity if everything else failed.”

She glanced at the growing tree in the distance, her gaze sharpening.

“But that thing sprouting from the Inner Sea… it’s not a Fusang Tree anymore. It’s a cosmic blight. A twisted version, corrupted and fed by the Lord of Salvation. Once it finishes draining the Inner Sea, it won’t stop. It’ll start feeding on the surface next. And if the Inner Sea’s fully consumed—”

She hesitated.

“The planet dies. And so do the UOs that guard its outer reaches.”

Ayaka’s voice was tight. “Then we have to cut it down. Before that happens.”

“Yes,” Wuzhiqi nodded grimly. “But I’ve never fought the Lord of Salvation myself. And from what I know… that thing is a First Cause-level threat. Only messianic entities can resist it.”

“No,” Manaka said sharply. She pointed toward Mash without hesitation. “We do have someone who can stand against it. Mash is our trump card.”

Everyone turned to her.

Mash immediately flushed scarlet and half-hid behind her shield. “I—I just know how to block things with this…”

“That shield…” Wuzhiqi frowned, narrowing her eyes. “It doesn’t follow any logical structure. I can’t even begin to read its foundation.”

“It’s from the Age of Origins,” Manaka said. “A true relic. We still don’t understand what it really is—but I do know this: the Lord of Salvation’s power can’t destroy it.”

“Then maybe… just maybe, we can bring that tree down,” Wuzhiqi murmured.

But her words trailed off.

Everyone’s eyes drifted back to Manaka.

That silence didn’t need translating.

“…You still don’t trust me,” Manaka said.

Gilgamesh didn’t blink. “Because we can’t.”

And no one argued.

She was right—about the tree, about the shield, about the threat. But she wasn’t innocent. Not by a long shot. She still bore the face of the girl who’d tried to end the world.

Manaka drew a breath, ready to speak.

But something else spoke first.

A deep, commanding voice cracked across the ruins like thunder dragged from the bones of the earth.

“Such shallowness.”

“Who’s there?!” Mordred snapped, already drawing her blade.

Everyone froze. No presence. No magical signal. No warning. Just a voice—low, vast, and absolute.

“I am the first, and the last. The Absolute Son of Heaven who brings peace to Heaven and Earth: the First Emperor.”

A sudden glow pulsed from Ayaka’s hand. She flinched and held it up.

The crimson sigil of a Command Seal blazed across her skin.

“Wh-What is this?!” Her voice wavered as she stared at it. “This is… Koyanskaya’s seal! But she’s gone! Why do I feel like I’m connected to something?!”

A massive summoning circle flared into being before her—crimson and gold, etched with ancient scripts that twisted and shimmered like living flame.

A figure slowly stepped through the light.

He wore dark imperial robes embroidered with dragons.

“This one is I.”

Wuzhiqi stared, dumbfounded. “You—!”

The man’s eyes flicked toward her, sharp and curious. “A water goddess’s scent… One of the ancient ones. How quaint.”

Then he turned, gaze settling on a silent figure behind her.

“It’s been a while, Hinako.”

Hinako said nothing.

“No greeting? Should I call you ‘Fairy Sister’ again?”

“Shut up,” she growled, fists clenched at her sides. “The Black Grail linking your spiritual foundation was severed. You shouldn’t be here. You’re not even part of Proper Human History anymore! You showing up on your own? That’s a massive violation of the rules!”

He laughed, amused—like a teacher watching a tantrum.

“Laws,” he said, “are the Emperor’s will. And the Emperor stands above the law.”

“Besides,” he added, “this is nothing more than a contingency plan. I've waited two thousand years. And now that we’re reunited—what’s with the scowl? Shouldn’t you greet me with a smile?”

He smiled, eyes gleaming.

“Tch…” Hinako’s lip curled. “You haven’t changed at all. You’re still the same smug little brat I met at the Chinese connection point.”

“Seeing that bright, annoyed smile of yours again…” The First Emperor grinned. “Truly puts my soul at ease.”

A vein twitched on Hinako’s forehead.

Gilgamesh tilted his head, unimpressed but curious. “So you’re the First Emperor. I assume you layered a dual summoning into that Beast—used the Fusang Tree as your anchor, didn’t you?”

“Sharp eyes,” the Emperor said, clearly pleased. “They call that Clairvoyance, don’t they?”

Gilgamesh gave a slight nod. “Then answer this—why reveal yourself now?”

“To protect Proper Human History,” the Emperor replied casually.

“I see,” Gilgamesh said.

“You see?!” a voice squawked over the comm link from London. “This whole thing reeks of backroom schemes and loopholes!”

The Emperor nodded, face solemn. “Indeed. What if I am a double agent?”

“Uhh—”

“I walk the path of righteous rule,” he said, flashing another smile. “I have no shame. Pass judgment if you must—but remember this: when the true enemy rises, old grudges become dead weight. Suspicion may feel like wisdom, but it cripples the blade before battle.”

All eyes turned to Manaka again.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she faced the group fully and bowed, hands clenched at her sides.

“…Please. Lend me your strength. Help me stop her—the other me. I know I’ve made mistakes. But there’s still something I want to protect.”

Arthur stepped forward. “You don’t have to beg.” he smiled. “The moment you chose to stand with us, I was ready to raise my sword beside you.”

Then he glanced at Gilgamesh. “Well? Is that enough for you?”

Gilgamesh gave a slow nod.

Manaka turned to Arthur, gratitude softening her features. Then she inhaled, bracing herself. “Then, everyone—”

“—henceforth,” the First Emperor cut in, raising a single hand as if commanding the stars themselves, “I ask that you all lend your ears—to me!”

“…Huh!?”

Every head turned. A collective pause rippled through the group.

Some were stunned. Some frowned. Some stayed calm. And others—

—were on the verge of losing it.

Hinako let out the heaviest sigh in Asia and immediately began massaging her temples. “Here we go again…”

Merlin cleared his throat delicately. “Your Imperial Majesty of the Eastern lands… I have no doubt your capabilities are vast. However, it does appear you may not fully grasp the current circumstances—”

The Emperor nodded. “Correct. I do not.”

Merlin hesitated. “Then—”

“But understanding the situation does not solve the problem,” the Emperor declared. “Having the right people, doing the right things—that is what resolves it.”

Merlin blinked. “You’re saying… you can resolve this?”

He halfway expected modesty. Maybe a vague claim of probability. But the answer was immediate, and absolute:

“Yes.”

The word hit like a hammer.

All eyes shifted. Even across the link, the London anchor team stiffened, visibly surprised.

Gilgamesh’s gaze sharpened. “Even those who claim omnipotence wouldn’t speak with such unearned certainty under these conditions. And yet you do?”

The Emperor smiled, radiant and maddening. “My word is mandate. My will—destiny itself.”

Gilgamesh muttered under his breath, “This revolting confidence… reminds me of that mongrel.”

Then, louder: “Fine. Since you’re so certain—go ahead. Let’s hear your grand solution.”

The First Emperor’s smile widened. “Your eyes are sharp indeed, foreign king who severs heaven and walks the world. Then, hear my decree—”

“Hold it!” Mordred snapped, stepping forward like she was ready to throttle the nearest deity. “You don’t get to steamroll over everyone just because you talk pretty! Nobody said we agreed to anything!”

“Hahaha.” The Emperor didn’t so much as blink. “If you are to bear the fate of all peoples, why fuss over the details?”

With a casual flick of his wrist, six motes of light flared into existence around him. Each one radiated power on a scale that warped the air. Pulsing. Dense. Unmistakably divine.

“What… what are those?” Ayaka whispered, eyes wide.

Gasps echoed from every corner of the circle.

“Grand Saint Graphs?!” Hinako’s voice spiked. “Where—how—where did you even get these?!”

“They’re imitations,” the Emperor said, as if discussing decorative pillows. “Replicas, modeled after the Grand Saint Graphs of Proper Human History.”

Hinako visibly paled. Sweat trailed down her temple. “That’s… that’s not something you can just make! That kind of fabrication would take—centuries—entire civilizations—!”

“Hahaha. A true sovereign forges paths through wastelands,” the Emperor laughed. “What use is the word ‘impossible’? These may be fakes—but in expanded functionality, they match the real thing.”

He let the six motes drift in slow orbit around him, each one humming like a caged god.