IBHJ 1199

That's why Shirou couldn't bring himself to care whether this Emperor was genuine or an impostor. None of it mattered anymore. The Empire and Pan-Human History had already crossed the point of no return - they were enemies now, locked in a battle where only one side could emerge victorious.

It was a simple truth. Winners write the history, and losers just fade away into forgotten ruins.

Scathach shook her head. "I have to say, I'm disappointed. I thought Garand was protecting some earth-shattering secret that could bring down the Empire. Instead, we find... what? Just some book the Emperor wrote to pass the time?"

"You've got it all wrong," Shirou said, tapping the first volume of "Tales of the Holy Sword"—the Emperor's personal handwritten work. "This book has shown me the Eternal Empire's biggest weakness."

"The Empire's... greatest weakness?"

His words hit everyone like a shock wave. Bedivere the former Apostle, Artoria the witch, and even Dr. Heartless who used to be the Emperor's personal tool—they all just stared at him, completely stunned.

Only Scathach smiled. She knew he must have spotted some detail that everyone else had missed completely.

Shirou stared at the book in Bedivere's hands, lost in thought. Whether by pure chance or the Lord of Salvation's design, this book left behind by the Emperor - combined with Dr. Heartless's insights into the Emperor's past - had revealed something crucial. A fatal weakness in the Eternal Empire that even the Emperor himself might not have realized he'd handed to him.

"Lady Nerissa," he turned to the Fairy Queen, "can we establish direct contact with Tír na nÓg from here?"

"Of course," she nodded. "Avalon and Tír na nÓg have always been connected."

He trusted her word completely. As one of the Nine Queens of Avalon and someone connected to Tethys, she had every reason to support his cause - or more precisely, to support the Inheritor of the Vortex. Though like all fairies, she would keep her distance from the affairs of the world.

Within moments, the connection to Tír na nÓg was established.

The connection wasn't thanks to Nerissa at all - it was Gaia's doing. With just a gentle push from his end, her sensory network had locked onto him instantly, reaching out before he could even blink.

He quickly brought Gaia, Merlin, and the others up to speed about Garand's fate and the Emperor's mysterious trip through Pan-Human History.

"Thank goodness you're okay," Merlin said with obvious relief. Behind him, even Skadi's usually stern face softened a bit.

"Wait, the Emperor was in Pan-Human History?" Gaia's forehead wrinkled with concern. "That's weird... I never felt his presence at all..."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Shirou said, surprising himself with his gentleness. Usually, he wouldn't spare a thought for Gaia's feelings. But with everything hanging by a thread, their usual bickering would have to wait. They couldn't afford such luxuries right now.

"Merlin, do we have any writer Heroic Spirits in our forces? Someone like Shakespeare or Andersen?"

"Yes, we do. What are you thinking, my king?"

"Get them here immediately," he said with a serious expression. "In this war, they're going to be our secret weapons."

"As you wish." Although Merlin clearly didn't understand why, he didn't question the order and turned to leave right away.

Everyone looked completely confused by his request. Even Gilgamesh, with his [Charisma A] and amazing leadership skills, couldn't hide how puzzled he was.

Writer Heroic Spirits? They were usually considered the weakest members of the already not-so-powerful Caster class. Yet here was Shirou, saying they were going to be the key to winning—their secret weapons in this war. What on earth could he be thinking?

The answer was actually pretty simple.

War!

Sure, military power could break down a nation's walls, but it couldn't crush its spirit. Even the toughest economic sanctions might cause internal fighting, but they'd never really break a nation's core.

But there was something way more powerful than any physical weapon—something you couldn't see or touch, but that was absolutely deadly.

It was…

Culture!

Reading about the Emperor's activities in Pan-Human History and studying "Tales of the Holy Sword" had finally shown him what he needed. The perfect empire's blind spot, the invincible empire's glass jaw.

The empire had no history. No culture of its own.

Until now, he had been forced into a defensive crouch against the empire's overwhelming might. He'd seen the vast gulf between their powers and knew a direct confrontation would be suicide. But suddenly, he had his opening—a chance to switch from defense to offense.

Shirou couldn't help but sigh. How had he missed something so obvious? But then again, that was culture's true power. It didn't announce itself like weapons or wealth. Its strength lay in silence, in the quiet way it shaped thoughts and transformed minds.

The weakness had been there all along, yet no one had seen it. Not Shirou, not Gilgamesh, not even Gaia. Even those born of the empire, Bedivere and Artoria, had been blind to this gaping hole in their cultural foundation. Who would think to look for such a fundamental flaw in an empire that seemed perfect?

No one. Not until the Emperor himself had unknowingly handed Shirou the key.

The others still couldn't understand what Shirou was planning, but their faith in him ran deep enough that they kept their questions to themselves. The Heroic Spirits were content to wait and see, while Bedivere and Artoria, who were from the empire, seemed even less concerned. Their attention had already drifted back to the Emperor's handwritten book.

"Can I take a look at His Majesty's book?" Artoria's eyes lit up as she turned to Bedivere.

"Sure thing." he handed her the book, and she held it carefully, like it was something incredibly precious, her eyes gleaming with awe.

Who wouldn't look up to their mysterious, all-powerful Emperor? And now she was holding his personal writings right in her hands.

"You know, I've always heard that Lady Morgan had a sister," he remarked, "but this is actually the first time I've met you, Lady Artoria."

"Well, that's because my sister basically kept me prisoner in Camelot's palace, forcing me to practice swordsmanship non-stop. She was constantly talking about how she was going to hand the throne over to me before disappearing off somewhere." Her cheeks puffed out in annoyance. "So I just ran away before she could dump all that responsibility on me. And look how everything turned out. My whole future got ruined by my sister... no, I won't even call her my sister anymore. That selfish, stubborn woman!"

"Sounds like we're not so different, Lady Artoria," he replied with a sad smile. "Though it's all been one big misunderstanding..."

At Bedivere's words, she lowered her head, her golden ahoge drooping sadly. Suddenly, the Emperor's book felt heavy in her hands, as though its wonder had somehow become dimmer than before.

Shirou watched them for a moment before turning to Nerissa. "That reminds me, where's Vivian?"

"Vivian? After the Emperor took off with your crown, she went chasing after him to get it back. Nobody's seen her since then."

"I see..." His forehead wrinkled as he wondered if the shy Princess Guinevere might actually be Vivian.

Before he could think more about it, a violent tremor shook the ground under their feet. The sky above them suddenly went dark as a massive warship tore through what looked like the very fabric of space.

"That's Agravain's warship," Bedivere said, his hands clenching into fists.

"They've actually followed us all the way into Avalon," Shirou muttered, his frown getting deeper.