IBHJ 1151

Horror flooded Ector's face, and fear flashed in his eyes: "The Poison of Corruption?"

He staggered back. With a sickening rip, his body tore free of the sword and crumpled to the ground.

Blood poured from his chest. Raw fear clawed at his heart. He frantically grabbed handfuls of bloody dirt and grass, trying to stuff them into the wound, but blood kept seeping through his fingers.

The patterns spread across Ector's body like a curse.

Ector was terrified, utterly afraid, and then... strangely delighted.

"Haha... haha... So that's it... that's it... This is..."

He never finished. With a dull thud, he hit the ground, blood pooling around him.

Silence.

Bedivere stumbled to his feet, pale-faced, and lurched to Ector's side. He waved his hand over Ector's nose, then dropped to his knees with a clang, staring in disbelief.

"He's—he's dead—"

Mordred lifted her sword, its silver surface reflecting her face covered in strange patterns.

A blank expression.

But she didn't see her own face—she saw the faces of countless friends, guards, and citizens of the Eternal Kingdom she had killed.

The Grail at her waist gave off an eerie glow. Among the three eyes on the Cup, the third eye that had always been closed slowly opened, releasing a strange, muted light.

…

With a thunderous boom, a brilliant meteor blazed across the sky, leaving darkness in its wake.

"That light..."

Guinevere stared in shock at the falling star.

The legends said the Emperor's palace sat at the highest point of the heavens, with twelve brilliant stars—the Apostles' fate stars—orbiting around the capital.

These thirteen stars, with the palace at their center, formed both the empire's heart and its mightiest defense.

The people of the Eternal Empire had lived so long with these thirteen stars that they'd become as natural as breathing, a simple fact of life.

But now?

A fate star symbolizing an Apostle had fallen from the sky.

"What in the world... has happened?"

Guinevere whispered to herself.

…

Above the capital's dome, Agravain watched in disbelief as Ector's fate star strayed from its path and plummeted: "How could Ector's fate star..."

The Apostles were both the empire's driving force and its shields. This wasn't just because they were the empire's finest, each having mastered their craft to perfection, but because the Emperor himself had chosen them for their roles.

The twelve fate stars circling the capital bathed the entire planet in the Emperor's sacred power, able to ward off any threat while keeping the empire's eternal state intact. This was the foundation of everything.

The apostles were unbeatable, their individual might beyond comprehension, and the endless years had let each one perfect their arts—like Aife with her Fomorian spear techniques, or Morgan with her mastery of magecraft.

Above all, the apostles possessed the immortal Eternity—a constant that even the Council's members and Beasts couldn't break. Except for the Emperor's special Poison of Corruption, they were truly undying, making them unbeatable from the start.

Agravain had expected Ector's invasion of Tír na nÓg to fail, but...

Death?

—Impossible!

How could this happen?

He couldn't wrap his mind around it—nothing like this had happened in 100 million years!

Death—how foreign was it to the eternal empire?

So foreign that no one even remembered what it meant anymore.

But now?

Now... it was right there.

Ector...

Had actually fallen!

This...

Faced with something unthinkable in 100 million years, Agravain's thoughts spiraled into chaos, his reason falling away.

He turned to look at the palace veiled in clouds and mist, then looked away, the turmoil on his face replaced by eyes as calm as still water.

He knew that he, as the empire's mind, couldn't afford to lose control.

This was his burden—the weight of responsibility that came with the Emperor's trust.

He had to make a decision!

…

Whoosh whoosh whoosh

Demonic swords, holy swords, cursed swords, immortal slaying swords... countless blades filled the sky like a kingdom of steel, all rushing toward Aife as she stepped onto the frozen northern lands.

Faced with the endless wave of swords, Aife didn't flinch—she laughed. Like a beast catching the scent of prey, her face split into a fierce, hungry grin.

Purple eyes blazing with bloodlust, she raised her twin spears, crimson light dancing between them like a supernova against the dim snow.

"Clang clang clang clang—"

Her spears whirled and struck, each hit precise and brutal. Countless swords scattered through the air, ringing like broken bells as they tumbled away.

Like a wolf among sheep, Aife tore through the rain of blades. She twisted between the falling steel, deflecting what she couldn't dodge, and turned into a streak of light as she carved a path straight toward him.

Shirou's eyes narrowed, muscles tensing as his hands suddenly clenched tight. Magic circuits flared blue beneath his skin.

—[Broken Phantasm]!

"Boom boom boom boom boom boom—!"

The swords surrounding her pulsed with unstable energy before erupting into a storm of explosions. The blasts chained together, turning the snowy battlefield into a sea of fire and shrapnel.

The exploding swords shattered the air, the shockwave cracking the ice below and sending geysers of boiling seawater into the sky.

The searing blast consumed everything.

Then—

A purple flash cut through the black smoke, and a crimson spear blazed like a meteor in the night sky, cutting a burning path through the darkness as it drove straight at his face.

In that moment, a holy sword shot out from Shirou's side to meet the attack.

"Clang—"

Steel met steel with a thunderous crash, the shockwave splintering the ice like broken glass.

Aife glanced with mild surprise at Merlin who now stood before her. "Your swordsmanship is not bad."

"Thank you for the compliment."

"But I have no interest in swordplay." She twisted her body, her second spear striking like a venomous serpent at Merlin's face.

Merlin's wrist snapped up, another holy sword sweeping horizontally. Steel met steel with a thunderous clang, the force rippling out like a cannon blast, lifting the surrounding ice sheet three feet into the air.

Aife moved as if she'd seen it coming, her body already coiling into the next attack. She twisted into a whip-like kick, her leg a purple blur as it caught Merlin square in the gut. With a boom, Merlin went flying, his body carving a trench through ice and stone.

In that split second after she knocked Merlin away, a red spear shot out like a striking viper. Shirou's thrust came at an impossibly awkward angle, exploiting what should have been her moment of vulnerability.

It should have been the perfect opening, yet Aife drove her spear downward and twisted her body in a way that defied physics. Her torso contorted around the thrust while her other spear was already racing toward his face.

Now! Shirou yanked his spear back and instantly projected [Shield of Medusa] before him.

Stone began crawling across Aife's skin like grey frost—but vanished just as quickly, breaking apart like shattered glass.

The Apostles' eternity gave them incredible magic resistance—even Medusa's petrifying gaze couldn't hold them. But for top-level experts, even that fraction of a second's opening could mean victory or defeat. A blink of hesitation was all it took to decide a battle between masters.

And he seized that split second without mercy, a deadly spear materializing straight at Aife's exposed stomach. The projected weapon formed mid-thrust, already moving at killing speed.

But Aife's reflexes were lightning-fast—her wrist turned with inhuman speed, the thin shaft of her spear sweeping across to intercept his spear tip with flawless timing.

She had just deflected his attack and was about to strike back when Shirou's hand suddenly tensed.

—[Broken Phantasm]!

The Gae Bolg that she had blocked exploded, blasting her away.