IBHJ 1350

Meanwhile, at the Northern Europe Connection Point—

The ancient snows had long since melted. Morning light bathed the landscape in gold, casting warmth over the hills and valleys. Verdant leaves whispered in the breeze. Birds sang their gentle hymns. Life moved in harmony—rising with the sun, resting with the dusk.

It was the image of a utopia reborn.

And yet, even this sanctuary—this land that had endured the Giant Calamity—now trembled beneath a foreign, ominous light.

“Lady Skadi. It’s confirmed.” Sigurd’s voice broke the stillness. He stood at the foot of the temple steps, his tone low and steady. “The beam… originated from pan-human history.”

High above him, the goddess stood alone atop the temple’s stone platform.

Skadi didn’t turn. She simply nodded, her eyes locked on the heavens.

Above them, the sky had torn open.

A spiraling vortex twisted like a wound in the skies. From its center, a pillar of pure light roared downward—brutal, unrelenting—driving itself deep into the earth as if trying to impale the world itself.

Just then, Brynhildr dropped from the sky, leading a sharp-winged line of Valkyries behind her.

Skadi turned to face her. “The surface—what’s happening down there?”

Brynhildr landed with a hard breath. “The forests are withering. Crops too. People are starting to collapse. That beam of light—it’s draining the Great Source.”

She hesitated. “And we can’t even get close. The base layer of its formula… it’s connected to Surtr’s realm. Fire giant territory.”

Skadi’s jaw tightened. “So Shirou was right.”

“Eternal King?” Sigurd glanced at her, one brow raised.

Skadi gave a quiet nod. “He warned me, back when I passed through pan-human history. Said something like this might happen. If it’s started here, it’s probably happening everywhere—every world with a Great Source.”

Brynhildr stiffened. “Not even you can destroy that light?”

“No.” Skadi shook her head. Her expression shifted mid-breath—like she just remembered something.

Then her gaze lifted, distant. “...It’s time already?”

She didn’t wait for a response. Wings flaring, she took off toward the High Temple without another word.

Brynhildr and Sigurd exchanged a glance, then followed. Wind howled around them as they caught up.

At the temple, they watched her slow to a stop in front of the great mural behind the High Throne. Without hesitation, Skadi stepped forward—and passed into the wall like it wasn’t there.

Sigurd exhaled slowly, frowning. “What is she doing?”

“Let’s follow her,” Brynhildr said.

He gave a sharp nod.

With no resistance barring them, the two stepped through the mural—and found themselves inside a dim, ancient cavern.

Their eyes widened.

“That’s… the Well of Wisdom,” Brynhildr was stunned.

Before them shimmered a radiant spring of divine light, its glow pulsing softly in the dark. At its edge stood Skadi, already kneeling. She reached into the water—and pulled out a small, rune-etched chest.

She opened it without ceremony.

Brynhildr and Sigurd leaned in to look—then froze.

No divine weapon. No sacred artifact.

Just a clump of red-black mud. Damp. Uneven. And somehow pulsing.

“…What is this?” they asked in unison, the words leaving their mouths before they could stop them.

Skadi’s voice came quiet. “It’s Shirou’s mud.”

Both of them snapped their eyes to her. “The Eternal King’s… mud?”

Skadi’s gaze didn’t leave the box. “When I visited Fuyuki, it wasn’t just for his birthday. He entrusted this to me… in case something like this ever happened.”

She didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t need to.

The mud inside the chest began to ripple.

It shimmered faintly, then stirred—rising like smoke before collapsing into shape. Slowly, it began to form a figure.

A head. Shoulders. Arms.

A vague outline of a man, his features still half-formed… but unmistakably familiar.

“…Shirou.”

…

His awareness stirred, tethered to the mud Skadi had safeguarded. Shirou opened his eyes slowly—and the first thing he saw was Skadi’s face.

“Shirou?” she asked softly.

He gave a small nod. “Yeah, it’s me.”

His fingers curled into fists as he added, “This feeling of being in two bodies at once… I’m still not used to it. But let’s not waste time—fill me in. Even from a world away, I could feel it. All that negativity flooding out of the present.”

Right now, he was drawing on the nature of Evil to stretch himself across the Gate, holding onto two separate forms at once. Most Heroic Spirits could manage that without a second thought. But for Shirou, it took everything he had. That was why no one had ever seen the Eternal King and Fujimaru Shirou standing side by side—they simply couldn’t. Not from two different vantage points.

He’d never been able to split his awareness cleanly. Until the day he touched Brigid’s record in the Eternal Empire. Just for a moment, he had seen the world through the eyes of a Transcendent. And in that moment, he learned how to do it.

That was when he prepared this body as a fallback.

Even if the Lord of Salvation ended his life during the Origin Era, even if the worst came to pass… this vessel would bring him back.

So he could keep fighting.

Even in death, the battle had to continue. No surrender. No retreat.

Shirou and the others stepped out from the hidden space. While they moved, he and Skadi had exchanged information, finally piecing together a clearer picture of what they were facing.

“The ‘Myth Beyond Myth’ Odin and the others mentioned… no, the Origin Era… so that’s what it really is?” Skadi murmured.

The truth defied belief. The so-called gods, the creators from ancient tales—they had all been constructs, tools crafted by civilizations far beyond anything humanity had ever known.

“That thing... it’s what’s tearing our world apart.” Shirou’s voice dropped as his eyes settled on the swirling vortex ahead, and the column of light rising from it, rooted deep in the earth. There was something about it that tugged at his memory.

“…Shirou? What is it?” Skadi asked, noticing the shift in his expression.

He stared at the light for another second before answering.

“…That thing—it feels a lot like... my Grand Summoning Circle.”

Shirou’s brow tightened. There was something deeply unsettling about the pillar of light—the way its nodes pulsed and connected felt all too familiar. It was almost identical to the structure of the Grand Summoning Circle used to call down the Enlightened One. That ritual had only been possible thanks to Tethys, Proto Gilgamesh, Arthur, and Misaya Reiroukan.

And the one who’d first proposed it… had been Tethys herself. Back then, before her capture—before she was offered to the Lord of Salvation.

“…I need to check on pan-human history,” Shirou said.

“I’ll send you,” Skadi offered without hesitation.

He shook his head. “No need. I can cross between worlds on my own now.”

Skadi slowly lowered her hand, giving a quiet nod. But her eyes lingered a little longer, and something unspoken settled in her chest.

Shirou took a step forward, ready to leave—then paused as he noticed she hadn’t moved.

“You’re not coming?” he asked.

Skadi looked back at him and gave a small shake of her head. “My people are afraid. I need to bring calm to this world.”

Shirou nodded, his expression softening. “When all this is over, let’s go see the snow together. Just us, alright, Skadi-sensei?”

She blinked at him, surprised—then smiled. “Let’s hope we don’t get another invasion while we’re at it.”

“There won’t be,” he said, flashing her a confident grin.

Then, drawing on the power of the Savior of Mortal, Shirou shifted into the record of the old man—and activated the Second Magic.

Skadi watched as his body slipped out of existence, folding into the seams between worlds. Then she turned to the divine envoys gathered behind her.

“Go,” she said. “Calm the people. And keep an eye out for any other disruptions. I’m counting on all of you—to protect the world we live in.”

“Yes, Lady Skadi!”

Skadi turned her gaze back to the swirling vortex above. For a moment, she stood still, eyes narrowed.

Good luck, Shirou… she thought.

Then she stepped away, her figure slowly fading behind a cascade of falling petals.