IBHJ 1150

"The Heavenly Emperor makes his own judgments. Questioning him is enough to warrant your fall! Agravain was right to give you the Poison of Corruption!" Ector stared coldly at Bedivere.

"I've never questioned the Emperor!" Bedivere drew his sword. "I saw it with my own eyes—the Emperor devoured the Council's Sixth Seat and transformed into a heartless monster. No, that monster devoured our Emperor. How could I just stand by? How could I keep pretending? How could I let myself stay blind to the truth?"

"It seems you've been thoroughly brainwashed by the foreign enemies, Bedivere." Ector sighed, then rose to his feet, the swords in his body clattering against each other.

Mordred pulled her sword back, staring at him like she'd seen a ghost.

She had just killed him moments ago!

"You seem to have the wrong idea about the Imperial Armor, Heroic Spirit."

Ector turned to Mordred and said, "It's not that Apostles become invincible when they wear the Imperial Armor, it's that the Imperial Armor worn by Apostles becomes invincible. It seems Bedivere hasn't told you just how heavy the weight of 'eternity' really is."

Mordred finally understood, everyone had misunderstood their "eternity" from the beginning. But who could blame them? To humans, who feared death and dreamed of endless life, "eternity" meant immortality—the ability to endure forever through time, to be unkillable. But for the Empire's people, "eternity" meant something far more absolute: perfect stasis, a state of being where change itself became impossible.

A stone can be broken because its structure can change. A flame can be extinguished because its energy can dissipate. But an Apostle exists in a state where the very laws that allow for transformation no longer apply to it. It's not that it's strong—it's that the concept of damage itself becomes meaningless against something that cannot be altered.

No matter what happened, no matter what they faced, the Empire's people would stay exactly as they were. That's why they could die countless times without their souls breaking down, why no seal could truly trap their existence.

Mordred also realized why Bedivere had rushed to find her, he was worried she wouldn't be able to keep Ector contained. But being the kind soul he was, Bedivere had kept quiet about it, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

As for why he never explained the Empire's 'eternity' before—he probably just assumed Mordred and the others knew this basic truth about it. And trying to explain it would be nearly impossible, like trying to explain why water is water. How could anyone put that into words?

"I'm taking you back to the capital to face the Emperor's judgment, traitor!" Ector's eyes turned cold as he glared at Bedivere.

"Maybe I am a traitor. But I can't go back now!" Bedivere gripped his sword, meeting Ector's gaze with unwavering resolve.

There was no going back to the empire now. The moment he chose to trust his path and stay true to his loyalty, he had put himself at odds with everyone.

They all thought he was wrong, but he knew in his heart what he'd seen was real, what he felt was true.

Ector pulled out two swords, kicked off the ground, and like a fierce tiger pouncing down a mountain, lunged straight at Xuanzang.

He'd noticed it earlier.

This person—

Was the weakest!

The empire had ordered them to avoid targeting Xuanzang if possible, but now that she stood against the Empire, what was there to hesitate about?

Go for the easy prey!

Seeing Ector's attack, Xuanzang froze in fear, barely managing to raise her nine-ringed staff to block. But two swords flashed faster, knocking Ector's blades away.

Xuanzang looked up to see Bedivere and Mordred standing before her.

"What are you doing just standing there? Run!" Mordred snapped.

Bedivere spoke softly, "Master Xuanzang, please fall back for now."

"S-sorry, benefactors." Xuanzang scrambled away, clutching her nine-ringed staff.

"Just the two of you without the Imperial Armor? Don't think you can stop me!" Ector suddenly pushed forward with both hands.

Screech—

Metal shrieked against metal where their blades met.

Mordred's teeth clenched. Ector's raw power was strong—if she had to put a number on it, his Strength would be around A rank.

With a crack, Ector knocked Mordred back and moved to press his advantage, but Bedivere's second blade flashed out.

A streak of silver light, and with a clang, the sword caught Ector's blade.

"Mordred, get back to the others. I'll handle Ector for now."

"You want to take me on alone? Ha, you think too highly of yourself, Hope!"

Ector let out a roar, raised both swords, and charged straight at Bedivere.

Bedivere's eyes glinted as he twisted his wrist, his twin blades moving to meet the attack.

"Clang, clang—"

In that moment, light scattered everywhere, the ring of steel against steel endless.

Mordred stared at Bedivere in awe. "Was Sir Bedivere's sword skills... always this incredible?"

Everything she thought she knew had changed.

Bedivere had always seemed like a delicate court official, but now?

Those flashing blades...

He was strong.

Incredibly strong.

From what she could tell, this Bedivere's sword skills and battle experience were way beyond even Lancelot's!

But then it hit her, understanding dawning in her eyes.

Of course, more than a million years had passed in the Empire's world. In that much time, forget Bedivere, even a normal person would become a swordmaster.

Time was a terrifying weapon.

Still, as strong as Bedivere was, Ector was in another league entirely.

He smashed both of Bedivere's swords aside, leaving him exposed, then drove his knee into his stomach, sending him crashing to the ground.

Bedivere curled up, clutching his gut, cold sweat breaking out across his skin.

"How does it feel? Not so nice when the poison takes away your eternity, is it?" Ector asked coldly.

Bedivere's teeth clenched. The poison had stripped away his Imperial eternity, leaving him with normal human sensations. Like Uryuu Ryuunosuke suddenly gaining the ability to feel pain after a lifetime without it—the shock was almost unbearable.

But Bedivere wasn't done yet. He gritted his teeth and reached for a sword lying nearby, but before his fingers could close around it, Ector's boot crushed his hand while another blade sliced through his tendons.

Blood spurted.

Bedivere's face turned pale from the pain.

"Always bossing us around, always ordering us combat Apostles around... I've wanted to put you in your place for a long time, Sir Bedivere."

Ector leaned down, his eyes wild with bloodlust as he stared at him. "I wonder if His Majesty would mind if I bring you back as a corpse. Hmm, executing an Apostle... I wonder if spilling your blood will wake something in me, Sir Bedivere?"

What were Apostles?

Apostles were human.

Humans who had gained divine lifespans.

In pan-human history, people like Scathach would be exiled to the Outside of the World by Gaia. Because when such beings broke, they became too dangerous for the world to contain.

In just over two thousand years, figures like Scathach had nearly cracked, but the Apostles—these people of the Empire—had lived for more than a million years.

Millions of years had passed, and while their bodies lived on, their hearts had died long ago.

Ector stared at Bedivere with excitement. Here was a traitor who'd betrayed the Empire—delivering death's judgment wouldn't go against the Emperor's law.

Would watching an immortal scatter like cherry blossoms under his blade stir something in his dead heart?

Would killing a friend he'd known for millions of years make his numb soul feel anything at all—guilt, pain, anything?

Ector found himself eager to find out.

For the first time in countless ages... he actually felt something like excitement.

Ector swung his blade down without mercy.

But then—

"Like hell you will!"

Mordred's shout rang out as she drove her sword at him.

"Your pathetic blade can't touch me, Heroic Spirit!"

Ector laughed with contempt, completely unfazed. Without the Poison of Corruption affecting him, his eternity made him immune to death itself.

Mordred knew this too. She wasn't trying to kill him—just save Bedivere from his blade. She also knew she was no match for Ector as she was.

So... she'd have to use her Grail!

She knew every time she pushed it to the limit, she got closer to the Grail's final form, but right now, she had no choice!

Strange patterns raced across her body. Mordred's power exploded as she shot at Ector like a bolt of lightning.

"Boom!"

Her blade struck like lightning, piercing Ector's chest and sending him flying.

But he just smirked and sneered: "Useless, Heroic Spirit. We are... Huh? no... no... this can't be..."

Ector's face twisted in shock. Searing pain spread from his chest as the void of death kept eating away at his will.

He stared in horror as countless strange patterns crawled from Mordred's sword into his body like a virus, spreading through every fiber of his being.

His immortal body, his unchanging existence, was being torn apart and destroyed bit by bit.

"This is—this is—"

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