IBHJ 1316

"Hahaha! There's not a single being left on this planet who can stand against me. Even those UOs who've gathered here are powerless!" Sixth Seat’s laughter boomed across the darkness, dripping with smug satisfaction and arrogance.

Mordred bit down hard on her lip, knowing with sickening certainty that his words were true. They had managed to face the Ideal King without casualties, even trading blows and holding their ground, but only because she had never truly intended to harm them. The Ideal King had simply wanted to teach them a lesson before imprisoning them.

But Sixth Seat was different. The malice radiating from him made it clear—he wouldn't hold back in the slightest.

The Ideal King had been a false Holy Spirit, and now Sixth Seat, having reclaimed Brigid’s Holy Grail, was something akin to a false Holy Spirit. But the similarities ended there. Within this planet—no, within this entire solar system—there wasn’t a single entity capable of standing against his power.

What options did they have left? Mordred's jaw tightened as she considered their dire situation. There was no need to overthink things—even if it meant certain death, she wouldn't back down an inch! This planet belonged to them, and she would never surrender it to anyone!

"I truly can't comprehend why that person cared so much about these insignificant creatures," Sixth Seat mused. "But it doesn't matter now. You'll all become anti-spirit particles fueling my revenge against him!" he roared.

Something stirred within the Grail, answering his call. A massive dragon head emerged from its depths, jaws parting like the gateway to oblivion itself. Inside its maw, countless anti-spirit particles swirled together, coalescing into what looked like pure, concentrated darkness. The energy began building rapidly, preparing to rain destruction—

"This is really bad!" Mordred thought frantically, whipping her head toward Shiki.

They couldn't counter this with any normal attack. Since it was an anti-spirit particle beam, any energy they fired at it would trigger an immediate detonation. With that concentration of anti-spirit particles, an explosion would wipe out not just them but the entire solar system!

Only Shiki, with her special ability to kill anything—even concepts—could stop this attack.

But when she looked at Shiki's face, her heart sank. Shiki wore an expression of confusion and frustration. Clearly, Shiki couldn't see the death line of this beam. Just like the Ideal King before, Sixth Seat had hidden the origin line from Shiki's sight.

Mordred clenched her teeth, completely defenseless. They were trapped in an impossible choice—if they fought back, the anti-spirit particle beam would explode and wipe out the entire star system. If they did nothing, the beam would hit them directly, breaking them down to nothing. Either way, death was certain.

But then something changed.

A soft whisper cut through the air, barely audible but somehow slicing through the darkness like a knife. It wasn't even words, more like the sound hope might make if it had a voice. In the next moment, a golden stream of light—warm and alive in a way that technology never could be—shot out from the Imperial Palace. It moved as if it had a mind of its own, racing toward the incoming beam, leaving a trail that looked like melted sunlight hanging in the air behind it.

"No!" everyone thought in panic.

"Hahaha! You idiots!" Sixth Seat laughed wildly. "You really want to fight back? Fine! Turn into cosmic fireworks along with this whole star system!"

Mordred bit her lip hard. Who had just attacked? Who was crazy enough to risk everything? Once those beams collided, the entire star system would be nothing but cosmic dust!

Just then, Shiki's eyes went wide. "That's..."

Before she could even finish her sentence, the golden beam slammed into the anti-spirit particle beam. Everyone instinctively flinched, ducking and throwing their arms up to shield themselves. Some even turned away, convinced they were about to be vaporized. The massive explosion they expected—the one that would turn the sky white and their bodies to ash—never came.

Instead, something impossible happened. The golden beam cut through the anti-particle beam like it was nothing more than smoke, parting it without resistance or struggle. There wasn't even a sound—just the beam being divided as cleanly as butter under a hot knife. The golden light didn't slow down, didn't weaken, didn't even flicker. It continued straight toward the abomination without losing a shred of momentum.

"What? That's impossible!" Sixth Seat screamed in horror. In the next moment, the Grail hiding inside the abomination frantically fled from within.

The golden stream of light sliced through the dragon with barely a sound—just a soft sizzle like water hitting a hot pan. On impact, the massive creature simply dissolved like morning mist caught in sunlight, its seemingly invincible form breaking apart into glittering particles that scattered and faded. One second it was there, terrifying and immense, and the next—nothing. Not even a shadow remained as evidence it had ever existed. Everyone froze in place, muscles locked, unable to process what they'd just seen. Some blinked rapidly as if trying to clear their vision, others just stared with jaws hanging slack.

"Arrow of Akasha... Arrow of Akasha..." Sixth Seat mumbled, his voice trembling. His head snapped around as he glared toward the source of the golden beam. "That's not possible!"

All eyes followed his gaze.

Soft footsteps echoed through the silent Imperial Palace corridor. A figure emerged from the shadows—Shirou, dressed in gleaming silver dragon armor with the Black Bow held firmly in his grip. Artoria walked beside him, her very presence commanding respect without her needing to say a word.

"Father? Mother?" Mordred's voice cracked with surprise as she stared at the pair.

"Fujimaru Shirou!" Sixth Seat snarled from within the Grail, hatred burning in his eyes.

Shirou didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Didn't even seem to breathe. He remained perfectly still as a statue, saying absolutely nothing as he simply extended his open hand, palm up like he was waiting for rain. A golden arrow materialized from thin air, forming particle by particle until it hovered just above his skin, glowing with an otherworldly gleam that cast strange shadows across his face. The light it gave off wasn't just brightness—it felt ancient, like looking at something humans weren't meant to see.

"Ar-Arrow of Akasha..." Sixth Seat's face twisted with fear. "This—this shouldn't be possible!"

Shirou calmly placed the golden arrow on his Black Bow and slowly pulled back the string.

"No—stop right now!" Sixth Seat screamed, panic breaking through his voice.

The Grail spun frantically before racing away toward the emptiness of space.

I need to run—run as fast as I can— Sixth Seat's mind raced in terror. That arrow is the one thing that can destroy me!

Nothing on this planet should have been able to shoot him down. Nothing except that single arrow.

Watching Sixth Seat flee for his life, Shirou spoke softly without taking his eyes off his target. "Artie."

She responded by slowly raising her hand, revealing a simple wooden bracelet resting in her palm.

"Wait, that's—" Arcueid stared at the object in Artoria's hand, her eyes growing wide. "That's Brigid's bracelet!"

A single ray of sunlight broke through the dark sky choked with anti-spirit particles. The light touched the wooden bracelet in Artoria's hand, illuminating each character of "Brigid" carved into its surface.

In that moment, the entire sky lit up with blinding radiance. Waves of holy light poured down from beyond the heavens, washing over everything below.

The nebula hovering outside the planet suddenly collapsed inward, wrapping around the planet like a cosmic shroud and trapping the fleeing Sixth Seat within its boundaries.

"This is the final song of the Eternal Kingdom," Shirou said, his voice calm yet heavy. "The Eternal Kingdom died because of you. It's only right that you go down with it."

He released the bowstring.

The Arrow of Akasha shot forward, transforming into a brilliant golden stream that cut through space directly toward Sixth Seat.

"No—!" Sixth Seat's scream tore through the air, raw terror in every syllable.

But nothing could stop the Arrow's path. Not magic, not will, not even the laws of physics themselves. It struck true, connecting with a soft whoosh that seemed absurdly gentle for something so powerful. In that single moment, everything simply... ceased. Sixth Seat's burning resentment, his consuming hatred, his very existence—and all remaining traces of the Eternal Kingdom—everything broke down into pure spirit particles that scattered into nothingness, like dust caught in a sunbeam. There was no explosion, no dramatic final words. Just an ending, as quiet as a last breath.

Soft light from the clearing sky fell upon the wooden bracelet in Artoria's hand, bathing it in a gentle glow that caught the worn edges and simple craftsmanship.

And so ended the final song of the Eternal Kingdom, not with thunderous applause, but with the quiet closing of a book that had been open far too long.