IBHJ 1096

Shirou stepped into the room Guinevere had arranged for him. After washing up in the bathroom, he found fresh clothes laid out on the bed by the maids. He changed and stood before the bronze mirror, taking in his youthful reflection. A smile spread across his face.

"Besides the sun itself, could there be any youth more sunny, more brilliant, more radiant than this boy in the bronze mirror? If such a person exists, surely it must still be me." He ran a hand through his hair, admiring his reflection.

Even knowing some mastermind had engineered this version of Britain couldn't dampen his spirits. Being back in this era, walking these lands, seeing familiar faces—the very air seemed to stir something in him. His fingers traced the mirror's edge as memories washed over him. He had shed blood and tears here, fought with everything he had.

He felt like an old warrior returning to the battlefield of his youth. His chest tightened with nostalgia. Still, his good mood wouldn't stop him from tracking down whoever was behind this and teaching them a lesson.

While the King and princes were away, the Councilors took care of the kingdom's business, but Guinevere was still a princess. Her fairy nature had given her great wisdom since childhood, and she'd helped guide the kingdom with thoughtful counsel. As soon as she came back to the castle, the Councilors pulled her into court to take the King's place.

"Like a little rabbit." He shook his head, remembering how fate had grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. The Councilors had dragged her away while she fought back tears.

That was Guinevere for you—always giving in to her subordinates. But before they'd taken her away, she'd given him permission to enter the palace whenever he wanted. He could now walk through the grounds without asking anyone.

"Time to see what kind of game you're playing." His lips curved into an easy smile as he left the bedroom and made his way out of the palace.

That pure white tower didn't belong in his Britain. He needed to find out what it was.

The moment he stepped onto the street, heads turned his way. A young boy tugged at his mother's sleeve. "Look! It's Princess Guinevere as a boy!"

"You're right—he looks just like Princess Guinevere!" Another voice called out.

"If Princess Guinevere is the most beautiful woman, does that make him the most beautiful man?"

Shirou's steps faltered. He lifted his chin and picked up his pace, pretending not to hear the whispers that followed him. The pure white tower stood just three streets away from the palace, right in the heart of the city. He kept his eyes fixed ahead as he made his way toward it.

"Young man, wait!"

Shirou looked up to see two priests watching him. He pointed at himself in question.

"Yes, you." The priests nodded together.

Shirou raised an eyebrow. While he held nothing against priests personally, memories of how faith had brought down his kingdom left him wary. Still, he wouldn't take out old grievances on these men. He walked over to them. "What can I do for you?"

Silver chalice pendants hung from chains around their necks, standing out against their white robes. The taller priest stepped forward. "Don't run so fast in the streets. You might bump into someone or hit a wall. And it's getting dark—the sea breeze turns cold at night. Those clothes are too thin." He held out a white furry cloak. "Take this. You can return it to the church tomorrow morning."

Before Shirou could respond, both priests turned and walked away.

"Uh..." He stared at the cloak in his hands. What was that about?

He wondered briefly about them, then shrugged it off. The evening sea breeze did have a bite to it, so he pulled on the furry cloak and continued toward the tower.

The pure white tower seemed to be the heart of this city. Streets filled with merchants and busy churches spread out around its base. Unlike ordinary buildings with their bricks and tiles, this tower gave off a soft white glow—more like something born from alchemy than built by human hands. People gathered at its base to watch the sunset, treating it like a public viewing spot.

He joined the crowd heading inside. Though many started the climb, he found himself alone by the time he reached the top floor.

The sight took his breath away. Rows of houses with their cozy little courtyards lined the streets, and white doves circled overhead. The salty tang of the sea filled the air, making it feel like he'd stepped into a poem about some ancient world. His eyes were drawn to where the city met the ocean—that incredible blue was like the planet showing off its beauty.

This amazing place really got to him, and the breeze seemed to blow away his worries. But as he soaked it all in, something felt wrong. He couldn't sense anything else.

Was it really this normal?

Shirou frowned. That couldn't be right. The pure white tower was clearly special—it was sending a beam of light straight up into the sky, connecting land to the sky. There had to be something more here.

"Looks like I'll have to check the very top." He leaned against the tower wall, craning his neck to look up. The light shot up from the peak into the sky. If there wasn't anything weird about the tower itself, whatever he was looking for had to be at the very top.

But he noticed the warning signs—the top was clearly marked as a restricted area. Climbing up there in broad daylight would attract too much unwanted attention. He'd need to wait until nightfall.

"Huff... huff... I knew I'd find you here, Lord Shirou!"

The sound of heavy breathing made him turn. There stood Guinevere in the entrance, bent over and dripping with sweat.

"Finally... found you." Guinevere could barely get the words out between breaths. The climb had clearly taken its toll on her—she wasn't made for scaling the city's tallest tower.

"What brings you here, Princess Guinevere?" He tilted his head, watching her struggle to catch her breath.

"I... I need to..." She pressed a hand to her chest, still panting.

"Take your time." He gave her a gentle smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

Guinevere leaned over, sweat dripping down her face as she fought to get her breathing under control. Shirou stood beside her, making a little breeze with his hand to cool her down.

The tower's height was no joke—even Shirou felt the strain in his muscles from the climb. In his normal form, at least. He could have managed it easily with the black mud or Eternal King's record. But the mud had vanished without a trace, and the latter mysteriously couldn't be used.

That's why he was so determined to track down whoever was behind this.

"Coo... coo..."

A flock of white doves landed on the windowsill. They hopped about, heads tilting as they studied Shirou and Guinevere with curious eyes.

It was almost funny—for someone who could become Eternal King, Emperor of the Moon, or the even more fearsome Eternal Emperor... his basic form was surprisingly ordinary. Still, he'd only worked up a light sweat climbing the thousand-meter tower. Guinevere, on the other hand, was still struggling to catch her breath. She was even less suited to physical challenges than he was.

"Oh dear, how embarrassing." Guinevere's cheeks colored slightly. To show such an undignified state in front of a visitor—she'd brought shame to her kingdom.

"Not at all. Seeing the princess like this reminds me of flowers after spring rain—fresh and lovely. It's quite charming, actually."

"Ah, this..." Guinevere's face deepened to a bright red, the flush spreading to her ears. No one had ever spoken to her in such a flirtatious way.

"I apologize, Princess. That was out of line." Shirou stepped back. He'd gotten carried away—seeing Guinevere had made him want to tease her like old times, enjoying her sweet, flustered reactions. It was one of his small joys. But then he remembered—this Guinevere was likely someone's recreation. They weren't as close as they used to be.

He couldn't really help it though. He and Guinevere had shared quite a history, mostly involving him tormenting her hair. After all, she'd helped found the Hair Protection Association, despising his mischief and standing firmly against Eternal King's hegemony.

Of course, that wouldn't have stopped the real Shirou. What finally broke his guilty pleasure was an incident at the Romania connection point—he'd unconsciously grabbed Astolfo's pigtails and grossed himself out so badly that after some serious self-reflection, he'd changed his ways.

But now, watching Guinevere's silky hair float in the breeze, he felt that familiar itch returning.

That cursed smoothness!

"Hmm?" Guinevere's hands flew to her head. She spun around, scanning the area with suspicious eyes.

"Is something wrong, Princess?"

"No... just my imagination." She shook her head. Some instinct had warned her that someone was watching her hair.

It must be leftover nerves from those earlier encounters with enemies on the border. After all, what were the chances there'd be hair-obsessed perverts in this world who specifically targeted people's hair?

Even if such people existed, surely she wouldn't be unlucky enough to meet one.

Yes! She nodded to herself. I, Guinevere, am a lucky girl!

Little did Guinevere know that such a pervert stood right beside her. Her silky hair had just barely escaped disaster!

"What did you want to see me about, Princess?" Shirou forced his eyes away from her hair to meet her gaze.

"Since you're exploring the city, I thought I should be your guide. It's only proper."

"Ah..." He remembered his role as a traveling poet. "But don't the Councilors need you for state affairs? Surely that's more important than showing me around."

"Oh, those are just boring meetings. Father probably ran away because he got tired of dealing with them."

Shirou smiled, hiding his skepticism. "How can you say that? With all this fighting going on? Weren't you just attacked by Vortigern's rebel army?"

"About that..." Guinevere's forehead creased in confusion. "This Vortigern you keep mentioning... who is that?"

"The one commanding those mechanical soldiers."

"Those enemies we fought..." Guinevere tilted her head like a puzzled bird. "Did they even have a leader? And when you mention fighting..." Her confusion only seemed to grow. "The Empire faces some threats from beyond our borders, but isn't everything peaceful for the most part?"

"What about the Saxons then? And who rules Scotland?" His questions came quickly.

"Saxons...?" Guinevere blinked in genuine confusion. "Is that a country? Like the Great Tang Empire and Western Paradise that Master Xuanzang told us about? It must be some distant land I've never heard of. As for Scotland—the Scottish King rules it, naturally."

No Vortigern? An Empire? No Saxons?

The realization hit him. This Britain wasn't just some recreation—it was fundamentally different from the one he knew!

"Then those enemies we fought—where did they come from?"

Guinevere rose to her feet and pointed toward the ocean. "From across the sea. That's where our enemies are!"

He frowned.

At that moment—

"BOOM!" The distant horizon erupted as massive waves burst from the sea's surface.

"Aaaahh!" Guinevere jumped in fright, covering her head with her hands as she dropped to the ground. Her whole body trembled with fear.

"This is..."

"Enemy attack! It must be an enemy attack!" Guinevere screamed, her voice shaking as much as her body.