IBHJ 1352

They watched in stunned silence as the mutated creatures were wiped out in a single blow.

“S-So strong…” one pilot muttered. “Is he… a god?”

The mud-covered figure flew toward them.

Still trembling, another pilot shouted, “Wait—are you a friend? Or…?”

No response.

Instead, the figure raised one hand. Enormous mud limbs erupted from the earth and reached up, catching the damaged aircraft like a parent catching a falling child. One by one, the jets were lowered gently to the ground.

Then, without saying a word, the figure turned and flew off into the sky, leaving no trail behind. As if saving them had been nothing more than swatting away a fly.

But to the pilots still alive, it would never be nothing.

“…We’re alive,” someone breathed. “Let’s head back to base.”

“Base?” the squad leader growled. “What base is even left? The whole damn world’s falling apart. What the hell is going on?”

That question wasn’t theirs alone. It echoed in the minds of every government, every covert organization, every magus still hiding in the shadows.

The monsters weren’t just random anomalies. They were the result of something deeper—something rotten. They had taken only six months to start toppling civilization. Giant sea beasts devoured naval fleets. Winged horrors chased fighter jets like hawks picking off pigeons. Land creatures—mutated beyond recognition—crushed tanks and tore cities to pieces like toys.

It wasn’t a war anymore. It was a global extinction event.

And as Shirou flew south from Iceland, heading toward Fuyuki, he saw it all. Scorched cities. Flooded nations. Smoke rising from once-thriving capitals. No safe zone. No haven. Just a planet swallowing its children whole.

But he knew better. This wasn’t nature’s wrath.

These things weren’t born from the earth.

They were the children of the Beast.

And the will of the so-called Lord of Salvation.

Before the Arrow of Akasha wiped out Sixth Seat, it had already started to break down the planet’s very fabric—turning the surface into fertile ground for warped life to spawn.

Then came the disappearance of Ideal King Brigid.

Then the seven anchors were completed.

And then… the Lord of Salvation began to bleed through the Gate.

That corruption was what birthed these creatures—these twisted lifeforms that no longer followed any logic or natural order. They wouldn’t stop. Not until the entire planet belonged to them.

But that wasn’t Shirou’s problem.

His focus was on the upgraded Grand Summoning Circle.

The real threat.

Origin Gaia had already launched her ambush on the Golden Universe. If she succeeded—if the Golden Universe was erased at the root during the Origin Era—then maybe, just maybe, the Lord of Salvation would never come to be. Maybe this broken future could still be saved.

That could be the answer.

Which meant—for now—he could leave that war alone.

But this world? This timeline?

He had to stop the summoning circle.

Because if it went off, no one had any idea what would come through. It could be something so vast, so incomprehensibly powerful, that even this world wouldn’t be enough to contain it.

It could end everything.

Shirou flew toward Fuyuki City.

Compared to the ruins he’d passed, it was almost peaceful. The streets still had lights. The air didn’t reek of death. And most important of all—three powerhouses were stationed there.

Artoria.

Scathach.

Kama.

Thanks to them, Fuyuki was still standing.

But now, mutated stragglers continued to creep along the edges of the city.

“Help—!”

A scream echoed from a distant alley.

Shirou, gliding above the rooftops, stopped midair. His eyes swept the streets below.

There—he saw it.

A hulking spider-like creature, as big as a grown man, skittered toward a woman and her child. Its bulbous body was covered in coarse black hair, and its face—if you could even call it that—looked like a twisted mask of an Oni, complete with jagged tusks and burning yellow eyes.

His gaze locked on the girl.

He recognized her.

She was Mordred’s classmate. He’d seen her once before at a parent-teacher conference.

The spider let out a piercing hiss, the sound almost metallic, like scraping steel.

It crept closer, each leg clicking sharply against the pavement. The mother froze, her face drained of all color. Then she broke. Without a word, she turned and ran—leaving her daughter behind.

The girl collapsed to her knees, wailing uncontrollably. Her tiny shoulders shook. She couldn’t even move. She’d wet herself. The fear had overwhelmed her completely.

The spider tensed, ready to pounce.

Shirou raised his hand and prepared to intervene.

But before he could finish the monster, the girl screamed.

And in that moment, a flash of light erupted from her palm. A thin, searing beam tore straight through the spider’s abdomen—then kept going, slicing clean through a high-rise wall behind it.

The beast twitched once.

Then its body split apart and dropped to the ground with a wet thud.

Shirou landed seconds later, his eyes wide. “What… was that?”

The girl stared at her trembling hands, eyes filled with tears and panic. She had no idea what she’d just done.

And neither did Shirou.

When the girl saw the mud-covered man land in front of her, something inside her snapped. She broke down completely—sobbing, screaming, her body trembling with fear.

The light in her hand flared again. Wild and unstable, ready to fire.

Before the blast could form, he moved. His hand caught her wrist in a blur, and thick mud coiled around her palm, smothering the glow before it could erupt.

Then, with a soft whisper, he layered a suggestion into her mind.

Sleep.

Her body relaxed in his arms almost instantly, the fear slipping away as her eyes fluttered shut.

He held her gently, careful not to wake her again. His gaze shifted down to her sealed hand.

Something small nestled there. A tiny, black fragment. Barely larger than a grain of rice, yet it pulsed faintly—like a living thing.

“A demonic sword?” he muttered, narrowing his eyes.

It looked familiar. Too familiar.

Like the [Knight Arm: Demonic Swords]—those cursed weapons forged in the Land of Steel. Tools of desperation. Weapons wielded by Liners who had nothing left but rage and resolve, standing against the monstrous Aristoteles.

“Could it be…?”

His frown deepened. Was this world starting to drift? Becoming more like that hellish timeline?

He focused. Both [Eternal King]’s omniscience and [Gilgamesh]’s clairvoyance failed to label it. But through [Shiki]’s connection to the Root, the truth surfaced—slowly, but unmistakably.

It wasn’t a true Demonic Sword seed.

And it definitely wasn’t the ultimate blade that had once brought down an Aristoteles.

It was something new. Something warped.

A mutation.

Born from humanity’s instinctive need to survive the unnatural corruption spreading across the Earth. The very environment had changed them—and now, their souls were adapting in kind.

It wasn’t a sword yet.

But it could become one.

Shirou looked up at the sky.

A vortex churned high above, distorting the clouds in slow spirals. The world was changing. And it wasn’t just the mutated creatures anymore.

Humanity was changing too.

Was this evolution? Or was it destruction wearing a new face?

He couldn’t tell.

All he knew was what needed to be done.

He brought the girl to a nearby shelter, left her in capable hands, then contacted Artoria.

She was still stationed in Fuyuki.

When she saw him arrive, her eyes went wide.

“You’re already using that body?”

“There’s no time to hold back,” he said quietly. “The summoning light’s already touched the Vortex. Even the me in the Origin Era can see it.”

There were no greetings. No pleasantries. Just war.

And the update she gave him was worse than he expected.

The Beast VII Olga-Marie had awakened. Not just that. She was already building a massive summoning circle, anchored across seven connection points.

Mordred and Kiara had noticed the signs early. They spread the warning before it was too late. Now, every surviving Heroic Spirit and powerful magus still alive was preparing for battle.

But the Beast was moving fast.

Too fast.

Before anyone could fully respond, three of the seven connection points were already gone—Olympus, South America, and Romania had all been breached.

Shirou’s face tightened. “Any other bad news?”

Artoria gave a grim nod. “Northern Europe just fell.”

He let out a breath. “Then what’s left?”

“China. Britain.” Her hand rested on her sword. “And here.”