IBHJ Chapter 850

He walked over, took her hand, and gently blew away the dust from the wound. After cleaning it, he cast a simple healing spell on her, all the while scolding her lightly. "Honestly, why try to hide it from me? I know you too well. If you're hurt, just say so. Don't push yourself, you'll make me worry."

"I-I understand, my king," she replied, looking down. The king still cared for her so much.

Suddenly, the dissolving Servant raised his head, eyes locked on Shirou.

Artoria's senses sharpened, and she summoned the holy sword in front of Shirou. She was wary of a last-ditch attack from the mud Servant.

This was no idle concern. Even a corrupted Servant was a legend who had left their mark on history, and this one was a demigod to boot. Who knew if he had some final Noble Phantasm up his sleeve?

Whatever the case, she was ready to lay down her life to protect the person behind her.

"...You finally came back, Fujimaru Shirou..."

Shirou's eyebrows shot up. He placed a reassuring hand on Artoria's shoulder and stepped forward, locking eyes with the Servant. "You know me?"

"How... could I not? Anyway, the future is in your hands. You must save the world, save all of human history, from the clutches of that Beast..."

The Servant's words trailed off as he dissolved like a spirit finally set free, his body scattering into the air like snowflakes.

"Beast..." Shirou muttered, a frown creasing his brow. For some reason, his first thought was of the Sixth Seat of the Council, the one who had trapped him in countless time loops.

Could the Beast this Servant spoke of be the Sixth Seat?

But that wasn't the important question right now. The important question was, did he know this Servant? Had they crossed paths before, perhaps in a past loop?

And if this Servant knew him, then...

Shirou surveyed the scene around him.

Shinjuku. Could this Shinjuku be a fragment of the discarded world, swept up in the loop like the Fuyuki connection point?

Shirou's fists clenched, fingernails digging into his palms until faint bloodstains appeared.

Why was he trapped in this endless cycle?

His past... what really happened... in the original timeline?

In the loops, he was still Shirou, but most of his memories and experiences had been wiped clean. It wasn't until he met Skadi at the Nordic connection point that he'd begun to understand his own unique existence.

Artoria watched, a flicker of worry in her emerald eyes as she noticed his tight grip. But she didn't speak, didn't ask.

She knew the king well. When something troubled him, he didn't want others prying. So she simply stood beside him.

Shirou exhaled slowly, coming back to himself. He looked at Artoria and apologized. "Sorry to worry you, Artie."

"No, my king..." she quickly waved a hand, eyes downcast. "I'm the one who should apologize. You take such good care of me, but when you're struggling, I can't do anything... As your knight... I'm so sorry."

Hearing this, he spoke softly, "Then you need to reclaim your body from Alaya. That's the only way you can truly help me."

Her expression wavered. She had made a contract with Alaya, her true body hidden in a prison between time and space. She could break that contract if she so wished. But so far, she hadn't taken those steps.

"Alright, let's not dwell on it," he said, not wanting to pressure her further. "We should head to Tokyo Tower and see what that Archer is up to." He turned his gaze towards the looming structure.

She nodded in agreement.

"Artoria! Mr. Shirou!"

A shout from behind made them turn. Gray and Nero were running towards them.

"Gray?" Artoria said, surprised to see them.

The group, separated by the mud tide, was reunited. But Shirou wasn't exactly thrilled. He had been hoping for some alone time with Artie to deepen their bond. Now, they had company.

He kept his annoyance to himself, though. Rationally, he knew it was better to have the group together again.

After comparing informations and confirming the mysterious figure hadn't lied—this connection point had hosted a Holy Grail War, leaving both Servants and humans zombified—Shirou couldn't help but frown. "Archer is Gilgamesh? Saber is the male King Arthur? Rider is Perseus?"

He looked up at the black vortex swirling counterclockwise in the sky, his brow furrowed.

"I hope I'm wrong about this," he muttered, "or things could get messy."

"What's wrong, my king?" Artoria asked.

He turned to her. "Artie, do you remember why Fuyuki's invasion happened thirteen years ago?"

She thought for a moment. "Something about sealing something in Pandora's Box, but a soul fell inside and broke the seal... And later, after Ritsuka ran into a member of the Council, Chaldea theorized that this soul might be one of the Council."

"That's right," his frown deepened. "And I have a bad feeling that person might be in this connection point."

"Will this person be... difficult, my king?" she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

"Very difficult," he confirmed. "Possibly even more difficult than that thing that invaded Fuyuki."

Artoria, Gray, and Nero exchanged glances, a mixture of disbelief and concern on their faces.

Shirou didn't elaborate. He knew exactly who he was talking about.

The Princess of Origin, Manaka Sajyou. Born with a connection to the Root, she possessed overwhelming magical energy and talent, rivaling or even surpassing the most powerful magi. She was the prototype for all the major antagonists in the TYPE-MOON universe. When it came to causing trouble, Manaka Sajyou was in a league of her own.

They had already encountered an Abigail in this connection point. If Manaka Sajyou were to appear as well, things would get exponentially more complicated.

"In any case, let's head to Tokyo Tower."

This connection point was trapped in a bubble conjured by Abigail, completely cut off from Chaldea. There was no going back.

Their only way out was to fight and win.

Shirou led Artoria and the others in a charge up Tokyo Tower.

Under the massive black vortex at the tower's peak, three Servants awaited them.

Assassin—Sasaki Kojirou.

Berserker—Heracles.

And the third, the Archer they had been warned about—Gilgamesh!

No one else was there. No Saber and no Manaka Sajyou.

Shirou let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"That's Gilgamesh?" Artoria asked, surprised. This Gilgamesh was vastly different from the one she knew.

His golden armor had been replaced with black mud, and he carried two longswords on his back. Though a powerful aura emanated from him, it felt alien compared to the familiar Gilgamesh.

Sensing their arrival, the three Servants turned to face them.

Heracles and Sasaki Kojirou glared with brutal, cold eyes. But the mud-transformed Gilgamesh merely lifted the corner of his mouth.

"...You've come."

His voice was a raspy monotone, devoid of any emotion. Just a simple, blunt statement.

He still retained some intelligence? Shirou raised an eyebrow, not entirely surprised. Gilgamesh was still Gilgamesh, an egotistical king to the core. Even transformed into this zombie-like state, it was natural for him to hold onto some self-awareness. But Gilgamesh's next words made Shirou's eyes widen in surprise.

Artoria, Gray, and Nero couldn't help but share his surprise, all turning to look at him.

...

After parting ways with Gray, Ayaka led Altera to a long-abandoned manor.

The once vibrant flower beds were now barren, only withered roots remained. The surrounding furniture was broken and covered in dust, devoid of any sign of life. It felt less like a manor and more like an ancient tomb, lost to history and time.

A tomb for the dead.

"Master, where are we?" Altera asked, her gaze finally settling on Ayaka's face. She couldn't help but be taken aback.

Ayaka's expression was a mix of longing and sorrow. "This place... it's..."

Altera stopped, standing before her master. She reached out, gently wiping away the tears that welled up in her eyes.

Altera wasn't one for expressing emotions, but seeing Ayaka's sorrow made her heart ache.

She thought back to the day Ayaka had contracted her.

Due to Altera's uncontrollable rage whenever she encountered Artoria, her original master had abandoned her. Though many masters had since contracted her, drawn by the prestige of the "Scourge of God," they all eventually left her as well.

Countless rejections later, Altera met Ayaka.

—"Please be my Servant!"

"No," Altera had refused. "I am not a worthy Servant. You should choose someone else. You will regret it if you contract with me."

—"I won't regret it. I need your strength. Please, Saber, help me!"

Altera still remembered the brilliant light shining in Ayaka's eyes that day—the light of unwavering determination. It was a light that both puzzled and captivated her, for it was the same light she had seen in Artoria's eyes. So she agreed.

And even though she still instinctively went berserk whenever she encountered Artoria, she no longer feared abandonment. Ayaka embraced her imperfections. And because of that, Altera cared deeply for her master.

"Saber..." Ayaka murmured.

"I'm here, M—" Altera began, but a soft, gentle male voice interrupted her.

"Welcome home, Ayaka."

Who? Altera spun around, startled. A cloaked figure stood behind her, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

The man tilted his head slightly, his gentle gaze falling upon Altera. "Ah, so you are Ayaka's new Servant. My sword tells me you possess the power to destroy the world. Although we are natural enemies, your immense strength assures me of Ayaka's safety."

Altera remained silent, her grip tightening on her sword. She sensed danger emanating from this man.

Extreme danger!