IBHJ 1204

"Why—why did you kill him? Why did you kill our Emperor?" Bedivere looked up with tears streaming down his face, his teeth clenched in rage and grief. "Why would you do that? I learned everything from Ambrosius. This entire world exists because of the Emperor! It was born from King Mordred's wish! So why—why would you kill him?"

"If the empire only exists because of the Emperor," Agravain asked, "then why haven't the empire and all of us disappeared since I killed him?"

"That's—that's—" Bedivere stammered.

"You've completely forgotten, haven't you? Just like everyone else. You've forgotten that journey." Agravain shook his head. "Fine, I'll spell it out for you. This empire doesn't exist because of the Emperor—the Emperor exists because of this empire. The Holy Grail created all of us equally. The Emperor didn't become a Holy Spirit because he was special—he became one because people trusted him."

"The empire doesn't depend on any single person—it exists because of its people. The Emperor and all of us Apostles weren't born this way—we were created through people's faith in us. But when the Holy Grail's power started running out, that Emperor of ours—that irresponsible ruler who would disappear for days at a time—became the biggest obstacle to our survival. So when the moment came, I killed him."

"But—but—"

"You want to know why the Poison of Corruption can strip away eternity? What exactly is this poison? It's simple—it's the empire's distrust. And why did that Emperor lose his Holy Spirit power? For the exact same reason... because the empire stopped trusting him."

Agravain's tone remained flat and calm, yet to Bedivere, his words felt unbearably heavy.

He collapsed to the ground, struggling to breathe, sweating profusely, feeling like he was suffocating.

—If one day, you had to choose between the Emperor and the Eternal Empire, which would you choose?

Arthur's question echoed again in his mind.

He had thought he would never need to answer this impossible question, never imagining it would confront him so suddenly.

Yet now, at this pivotal moment, both Garand and Agravain had already made their decisions.

Agravain fell silent for a moment, then said softly: "I told you... your spirit has always been too weak."

"That guy, did he really have to reveal everything?" Apostle Morgan frowned with displeasure.

"Wait a minute! Sister... did you actually help kill His Majesty?" Artoria couldn't help asking.

Hearing the question, Morgan simply nodded.

Seeing her confirm it, Artoria's face flushed with anger. "You've been calling Bedivere a traitor this whole time, when you're the real rebels! That's beyond hypocritical!"

"We did what needed to be done. I won't make excuses for it," Morgan replied coldly. "But that doesn't change anything, Artoria. You still have to die here today."

"Why?" she pouted. "I'm just a traveler who got caught in the middle of all this. Why do your power struggles always have to drag me into them?"

"The power of the Holy Grail has reached its limit. Once the war with Pan-Human History begins, no one can stand on the sidelines."

"If that's the case, why not just ask Pan-Human History for help instead of invading them?"

"Think about it—if you were running a country, or even just a regular citizen, would you really welcome millions of strangers with open arms? Would you happily share your land, your resources, and everything you need to survive with outsiders? Especially people from a completely different world?" Morgan challenged. "Pan-Human History already has six billion people. If they had to take in another six billion homeless imperial refugees who've lost their eternity, their entire world would collapse. This planet is simply too small to hold that many people."

"But—"

"The future belongs to whoever fights for it, and the things you care about can only be protected by force. If you don't want to die here, then stop being so weak, throw away those childish spells of yours, and use your sword to beat me. Otherwise, your journey ends right now."

Morgan waved her wand, and with a bright flash, massive waves of mana surged toward her sister.

"I really don't want any part in these stupid conflicts," Artoria muttered under her breath as she was forced to cast defensive spells to protect herself.

The Empire attacked with overwhelming force, and even Avalon struggled to hold them back.

The brutal chaos of war spread through this paradise—a place that had remained untouched by outside conflicts for so long.

Dr. Heartless watched the battle rage across Avalon for a moment, then turned to Nerissa. "Lady Nerissa, it's time for us to go our separate ways."

Nerissa paused briefly, glancing over at Apostle Morgan and Artoria locked in combat, then let her gaze rest on Shirou before finally nodding. "...you're right. It's time."

Her expression slowly hardened with determination.

…

With a loud clang, Mordred's sword pierced straight through Vivian, who was completely covered in shadows. The impact knocked her down, and then her entire shadow simply dissolved like sea foam.

The straw on Guinevere's back slowly faded away. Like someone who'd just lost their last bit of support, her eyes rolled back in her head and she started to collapse. Morgan caught her just before she hit the ground.

Mordred looked at Guinevere with concern, worried that her sword strike might have done some serious damage.

Though she didn't particularly care whether the Empire's Guinevere lived or died, that shadow that had appeared was definitely her teacher Vivian. And if she remembered correctly, just like with Balor earlier, she had only survived the Emperor's attack thanks to Vivian's help.

Morgan checked Guinevere's pulse and shook her head at the worried Mordred. "She's fine, just passed out from using too much energy."

Mordred nodded silently, then realized with surprise that her own body—which had been completely burned to ashes—was gradually taking human form again. The blue flames slowly died out as a layer of fair skin began to regenerate.

-“This offering was quite satisfactory, Mordred.”-

The third eye of her Grail slowly closed.

"Hey! You—" Mordred glared at the Grail as its eye shut, feeling a rush of anger. She knew the only reason she was back in human form was because of the Grail's power.

But this was nothing to feel good about. This wasn't a Holy Grail—it was something straight out of hell, filled with pure malice and evil intentions, basically a demon in object form. For the Grail to restore her human body, it must have demanded some kind of payment.

This time the Grail had closed its eye and given her back her human form because she'd satisfied it by defeating the shadow. The Grail had absorbed those shadows and was content with that.

But what about last time?

When the Emperor attacked her, what price had the Grail taken to rebuild her body?

Morgan carried Guinevere into the cave and gently covered her with a cloak.

Mordred didn't try to stop her, just watched Guinevere with a complicated expression, her thoughts in complete turmoil.

For the sake of Pan-Human History, Mordred had mentally prepared herself to kill Guinevere. But she never expected to discover that Vivian's soul was somehow living inside the Empire's Guinevere. Now she was stuck in a mess of uncertainty, no longer able to act with her usual confidence.

The person Mordred respected the most in the world wasn't her mother Artoria, or her father Shirou, or even her sworn brother Galahad—it was her teacher Vivian.

"What's really going on here?" She frowned at Morgan, completely confused and lost.

"I don't know. I have no memory of any of this," Morgan replied as she carefully tucked the blanket around Guinevere. "We'll have to wait until Vivian wakes up to get answers."

Mordred nodded and turned to look at the unconscious Guinevere.

Looking at Guinevere like this while she slept, Mordred couldn't see any trace of Vivian in her. She just looked like an ordinary princess, inexperienced and sheltered, like a delicate flower that had been raised in a greenhouse, protected from everything.

Yet under certain special conditions, Vivian's soul would somehow emerge.

And that special trigger...

Mordred looked down at the object in her hand. The thing that made Vivian appear was this very Grail she was holding.

—Holy... Grail.

As Mordred remembered Vivian's empty yet obsessive expression from earlier, a wave of sadness hit her. Vivian ending up like this, reacting so strongly to the Grail—it had to be because she loved the Eternal Kingdom too much and couldn't handle seeing it fall, right?

And it was all because of her...

"Mordred, do you mind if I take a look at that thing?" Morgan asked, pointing at the Grail in Mordred's hand with a serious expression.