A person is in Type-Moon, goes out, and then picks up an Outer God girl?

Duanmu Ye showed a very cunning smile, which made Kotomine Kirei, who was enjoying the answer, hesitate for a moment.

He... was really curious about what he looked like in Duanmu Ye's eyes.

You know, although he has that prop called Van Gogh, his sanity has remained relatively stable until now, but the clairvoyance he has obtained is really high.

He saw through the puppet of "Yonmine Risei" that he had fabricated to confuse the humans who broke in here at a glance. It was Duanmu Ye, who had clairvoyance, who actually saw the illusion with the help of mental interference.

At this moment, he was really curious. He was curious whether the self that Duanmu Ye saw with his clairvoyant vision was one of his thousands of incarnations.

So he nodded and expressed his curiosity and interest to Duanmu Ye, and Duanmu Ye's words followed.

"You look like a 156cm tall, 43kg, silver-haired, green-eyed, flat-chested loli!"

"???" x2

Both "Kotomine Kirei" and Van Gogh standing in front of him made quite a surprised sound at this moment. Even Van Gogh turned around in disbelief, looking at Duanmu Ye who was looking complacent behind him with an extremely shocked expression.

At this moment, Duanmu Ye was marveling at his own amazing wisdom. How could he come up with such a method at this time to reduce the difficulty for his master?

If this master were the normal opponent, then things would not be a difficult problem. In seriousness, I would just be a guinea pig for his amusement. As long as he had not lost interest in me, he would use the power of the Faceless God to send me back to the past, to torture me repeatedly and enjoy the ugly appearance of my struggle for survival.

But! If the master I'm facing is Nyako, then it won't be a difficult problem...

At this moment, Duanmu Ye was fantasizing like this, and he could even clearly feel that his SAN value was rising continuously as these words fell.

"So you like this?"

Kotomine Kirei held his chin with his hand, lost in thought, causing Duanmu Ye's expression to freeze.

Wait, he's not really planning on turning into Nyaruko, is he?

Before Duanmu Ye could calm down, Kotomine Kirei's body underwent earth-shaking changes. His silver hair flowed down in the divine light, and his emerald green eyes were filled with uncontrollable joy and excitement.

"I see, I see... It's an unused avatar, something from your memories... Is it called Nyako?"

"Don't go looking at other people's memories, asshole!"

Duanmu Ye couldn't help it any longer. His fists were so hard now that he wanted to rush up and punch the loli who had really grown to 1.53 meters tall in the stomach.

However, at this moment, Nayako smiled indifferently, then reached under her skirt and kept flipping it, just like the scene in the animation in Duanmu Ye's memory, which made Duanmu Ye's face even hotter.

He went to the wrong set...it was clearly just an unintentional move on his part...

But Nayako ignored such thoughts and actually took out a crowbar from under her skirt and smiled indifferently.

"What are you talking about, Duanmu? I brought you here to play. It's just a little memory. There's no need to be so stingy, right?"

When the truth was laid out on the table, Duanmu Ye's face turned pale for a moment.

That's right, at this moment, he felt a little defensive and a little desperate because of the other party's sudden and casual words.

"Are you here to play?"

Duanmu Ye muttered to himself, repeating these three simple words over and over. Even Van Gogh, who was surprised by the words before, was shocked by Duanmu Ye's state at this moment.

"You brought people here without permission, and you made them endure things they shouldn't have to endure. You built all your happiness on the pain of others, and all your joy on the lives of others..."

Duanmu Ye knew that no one knew better than him that reasoning with the outer gods was the most useless thing, especially when facing an outer god who could be said to be the real master. Trying to reason with him, trying to make them understand the true meaning of life was simply a mental illness.

Therefore, Duanmu Ye did not intend to ask the other party whether he felt happy playing with other people's fate and playing with other people's lives, because such a question was meaningless.

Nayako was not in a hurry to take action, but waited quietly. Just now, she smelled the scent she had been looking forward to for a long time, but it was only fleeting, which made her look forward to what would happen next even more.

"What do you think of life!"

The question followed, but Nayako did not intend to answer it, and Duanmu Ye did not intend to wait for her to answer it.

A jellyfish with the mark of the sun appeared beside Van Gogh, who had already entered a combat state. Each of the strips of cloth hanging from its head like silk was extremely sharp and tough. It was the prototype of a certain power and the embodiment of Clutie van Gogh's power.

Dozens of silk strips suddenly shot out and arrived in front of Nayako in just a blink of an eye, but a ball of black mist blocked the silk strips, and the crowbar in her hand was swung immediately.

"Hey~"

The cluster attack that was almost enough to destroy the wall of a reinforced concrete building was easily intercepted and knocked away by a cloud of black mist and a crowbar, but Van Gogh's attack did not stop.

The paintbrush in her hand was no longer the original sunflower. The staff-like brush was like a brush used in oil painting. Dark blue magic power gathered on it, and countless chaotic shadows similar to the black mist emerged under her brush stroke by stroke.

However, Nayako did not take any action but just watched quietly. She raised her head as if she had noticed something and saw a black shadow that looked like some kind of formation or a random drawing appear above her head, and the jellyfish that had launched the attack earlier suddenly appeared among them.

The twisted silk emitted a faint light, entwining and twisting, swallowing the silver-white figure inside, but just the next moment, a little light came out from the entangled cage.

It was clearly white light, but there was an unignorable shadow. It was like a blurry mist attached to the light emerging from the silk, and then the tightly wrapped silk began to fall apart.

"Huh, detonating from the inside is truly thrilling, but it looks like your Servant is a bit overwhelmed~"

The panting Van Gogh was supported by Duanmu Ye. The damage to the jellyfish was somehow transmitted to Van Gogh's spiritual base, but at this moment Van Gogh broke free from Duanmu Ye's hand and stood in front again.

"Who... who said that... it's just this level. Compared to my (Van Gogh's) life, it's nothing!"

Water, Wind, Flowers: Chapter 86: Van Gogh: Will Win!

Her spiritual foundation was collapsing and her mind was in confusion. At this moment, Van Gogh's face was pale. Although her whole body was the color of a cold-toned oil painting, it was still clear that she was in extreme pain on her distorted face.

There is no restraint, no special attack, and it can even be said that it is a fight between characters of the same type, but it is a match without any suspense, like an ant trying to shake a tree.

Van Gogh, who was standing at the front with difficulty, had no idea what Duanmu Ye’s conversation just now meant, nor did he understand why the black fog in front of him wanted to entangle Duanmu Ye. In short, it was impossible to hear any clear voice. From beginning to end, it was only Duanmu Ye who was talking to himself in the dark and hazy fog.

Of course, Van Gogh believed that the black mist in his eyes actually had a different appearance in Duanmu Ye's eyes, otherwise he would not have said such strange words to the black mist just now.

Through some special ways, Van Gogh could clearly feel Duanmu Ye's idea of ​​driving Lancelot to fight on his behalf. Perhaps it was the contract connecting the two of them that conveyed such an idea to her mind, and she also noticed in such a connection that there was something wrong with Lancelot's condition.

This feeling was indescribable; it seemed like something like intuition. Although Van Gogh himself believed his intuition had never been very accurate, at least since he could no longer return to the original moment, Van Gogh wished to be the one doing the fighting. Even if it meant being treated as a consumable, he didn't want his intuition, which had always been wrong, to become reality at this moment...

Immediately afterwards, Van Gogh heard a chilling laugh coming from the black mist.

Sarcasm, mockery, sneer... At this moment, Van Gogh felt the emotions coming from the black fog. It was a laugh directed at his own powerlessness, at his own fate that had already been designed.

As his pearly teeth bit his lower lip, regret and self-blame poured out of his body like water overflowing from a cup. A halo of deep sea black and dark blue continued to overflow from Van Gogh's petite body, overflowing, overflowing...

At this moment, Van Gogh has not forgotten what his spiritual base is made of, nor has he forgotten what his name is. He is a person who is thousands of times more worthy of respect than the disgusting creator who created him. The person who makes him remember his name and his concepts is a hero who is tens of thousands of times more respectable than the guy in front of him who is laughing at him!

"Even if it's completely unrecognizable, I'll continue to depict it..."

Van Gogh slowly raised his head, revealing a somewhat crazy look under his hair, but this kind of madness was not the kind of madness that had caused him to lose his mind. Instead, he hated himself for losing everything because of his own stupidity, and hated the culprit who had caused the current situation. He wanted to take revenge on the other person even if it meant burning himself to death.

How could Duanmu Ye not notice such emotions? From the beginning, Nayako's expression was unusually wonderful, as if she had seen something worthy of praise and she showed a very wonderful smile.

"Do you still want to continue, Duanmu? Perhaps your only way out is to admit defeat and become my follower."

Nyako chuckled, and the disdain revealed in her emerald green eyes was an innate arrogance, as if she was talking about an insignificant matter. Even though she was smiling, there was no emotion at all.

Duanmu Ye did not answer, but took two steps back and put some distance between himself and Nayako.

In this closed church, escape was definitely impossible. When facing him head-on, escape was no longer an option.

"Rejected?... What a heartbreaking silence..."

Although Nyako's words revealed a deep sense of sadness and regret, in her heart she was filled with joy that she had long understood.

If they gave up after realizing the disparity in strength, wouldn't that storyline be too boring? Take Duanmu Ye, for example, who is clearly a useless shut-in, yet still chooses to resist head-on despite knowing exactly what he is.

Ahhh... This kind of struggle is what makes it interesting...

Although Nyako had a thought in mind that would definitely make Duanmu Ye show a very interesting expression, Van Gogh's presence was too much of a hindrance. It was clearly the power given by Mo Yu, and he himself did not provide any protection, but he could sense the changes in the chaos...

Therefore, Nayako was in great distress at this moment. Should he get rid of Van Gogh here and bring Duanmu Ye greater and deeper despair? Or should he continue to let him struggle and continue to guide him?

Holding the crowbar that was twisting all the time, as if countless creatures were about to emerge from it, a look of confusion appeared on Nayako's face.

But Duanmu Ye ignored such a naive person. Van Gogh, who had already understood what he meant, once again summoned the jellyfish that accompanied him. Although using this power would cause a slight shift in the spiritual base, it would ultimately only be biased towards Clytie. Even if there was a shift, it would continue to change towards Clytie's side.

"Leave it to you, Van Gogh... Can you do it alone?"

Duanmu Ye murmured, he had promised Van Gogh that he would never use the power that would bring curses easily again. At present, apart from Lancelot who handed over the magic furnace, Van Gogh was the only one who could fight against Nyako.

Although he could not provide much help to Van Gogh in the battle, facing Nyako in front of him, Duanmu Ye continued to analyze her motives for appearing here and whether he could take any targeted actions.

To be honest, his memory of Nyaruko's anime can be traced back to his childhood, and he doesn't have the incredible ability to check his memory like hers, so even though Duanmu Ye knows some of her abilities, his memory of how to deal with her in this state is still extremely vague.

In other words, he needed some time to recall his past, and during this time, the only person he could rely on was Van Gogh...

"Fight heresy with heresy...leave it to me!"

Van Gogh, whose front could not be seen, responded. Duanmu Ye imagined that she must be very serious at this moment.

Yeah, leave it to her...

Just like Van Gogh trusted himself, he should also trust her. This is the foundation of the Holy Grail War!

The moment the words fell, Van Gogh, who was holding a flat-head paintbrush, was covered in a faint blue light. The brush spinning in her hand seemed to be depicting something in the void. In the eyes of Duanmu Ye who was watching this scene, a dark sunflower suddenly appeared before his eyes.

In less than a blink of an eye, a sunflower appeared out of thin air between her and Nyako, as if it was materialized by inspiration. The next moment after it swayed quietly, Van Gogh inserted the flat-headed paintbrush into the ground and instantly spread his magic power to the roots of the sunflower in the center.

“Dye through!!!”

The cry from Van Gogh caused the dark sunflower in sight to undergo earth-shaking changes. It began to split and spread, and the dark magic underneath continued to boil. Similar sunflowers of different heights grew out from the path that continued to flow towards Nyako. Each sunflower carried the same curse as Van Gogh and was as sharp as a chainsaw.

Whether it was the curse that was on par with Van Gogh at this moment, or the sharp object that was sandwiched between two and three dimensions, making it difficult to tell whether the specific shape should be considered a painting or a sunflower, Duanmu Ye did not think that they could cause any substantial harm to Nayako.

As one of the three pillars of the Cthulhu world system, his abilities cannot be easily described in words, yet his name encompasses almost everything about him...

——Crawling Chaos

Perhaps, as Van Gogh said, heresy is needed to defeat heresy, and foreign gods are needed to defeat foreign gods, but at this moment, only a small part of the source of her own power comes from foreign gods, and most of it is the power of Clytie distorted by foreign gods.

And the fact was just as Duanmu Ye was thinking at the moment. The continuously growing sunflowers did not really hit Nayako who was standing still without moving at all. She was like a silver-white girl standing in the dark flowers, just looking in his direction with an extremely intriguing smile, and those sunflowers passing by her and gathering around her never really touched her at all.

"I see, it's the power of Usumu...but most of their power is stored in you. It's just that an attack of this magnitude wouldn't even be enough to knock a feather off my body."

Nyako chuckled and casually put the crowbar in her hand back behind her. The silver-white figure that emerged from the sunflowers moved, and as it gently bent down, a sharp sound suddenly rang in her ears, and then something huge was slowly pulled out from the dark flower field covered by Van Gogh's magic.

It seemed like a black ball of flesh that was constantly wriggling, and the bursts of piercing sounds were made by the flesh.

Nayako's movements were very slow, but in Duanmu Ye's eyes, it seemed that time was slowing down under such slow movements, and even the air around him became stagnant.

Can it be stopped?

Looking at the sea of ​​sunflowers that tore through the church's floor tiles and walls, leaving clear marks wherever they passed, Nayako unhesitatingly retrieved something from the ground. Such damage was less painful to her than a feather falling on her...

The piercing sound began to grow louder, and at a certain point, the sound of some bubbles bursting flashed by my ears, followed by a piercing noise that almost covered all the sounds in the entire church, and even the ground was shaking.

It was an electric saw. Each toothed blade on it was a sharp piece of meat. It was alive. The teeth of the electric saw and even the electric saw itself were props made of living meat.

The electric saw, which had not undergone any changes, was now wriggling its jagged tumor at a speed that was difficult to observe with the naked eye, but Duanmu Ye soon discovered something was wrong.

Those wriggling tumors had a very vague halo, and it seemed that the irritating noise was also coming from that...

"You can see it, right?"

Nayako, holding the chainsaw, smiled, and this smile made Duanmu Ye shudder. He even looked at the teeth of the chainsaw more carefully after hearing her words.

"Van Gogh, Sunflowers, take them back!"

At this moment, every sunflower in the sunflower field blooming in the church symbolizes the existence of Van Gogh. If he had the power of the Nobleman of Wind, Duanmu Ye imagined that these blooming sunflowers would become similar clones after Van Gogh broke through to the third stage, surrounding Nyako and filling the entire space.

However, at this moment, the power of the Prince of Wind rests in his own body. The sunflowers that have grown are an infusion of Van Gogh's own concepts. If they are destroyed...

As soon as Duanmuye figured out what Nyako was going to do with the chainsaw, he ordered Van Gogh to retreat. However, for Van Gogh, who had already used that ability to surround Nyako, it was already too late...

The chainsaw was mercilessly destroying the actually unattractive sunflower field. The black and twisted sunflowers were constantly torn into pieces and chopped down to the ground under such a sweeping motion. The silver-haired girl was like a gardener eradicating weeds, enjoying the screams coming from the other girl who was squatting on the ground with her arms around herself.

“Gu—Ah ...!!!”

The spiritual base has changed again. Those wriggling tumors are more inclined to transform the internal part of the spiritual base and the soul level rather than destroy it.

Van Gogh was squatting on the ground in pain, holding his body, with his eyes wide open. Under his bulging eyeballs was his mouth, which was almost unable to make any sound due to the pain.

"Hehe... Hehehe - this ability is really useful. It's all thanks to you, Duanmu. Without your memories, I would never have found such an interesting incarnation walking on this planet!"

Duanmu Ye had a gloomy face. Not far in front of him, Van Gogh was suffering from the transformation of his spiritual base. Although he was very angry about it, he just raised his right hand and lit up the command seal on the back of his hand.

"Van Gogh, return to the Yellow House [Het Gele Huis]!"

Water, Wind, Flower: Chapter 15: The Evil God Isn't Afraid of Pitchforks? So I Got Help (15/)

The spiritual base is being eroded and is being transformed in this way while still having full consciousness. Both the spirit and the soul are constantly changing because of the contact between the sunflower (half body) and the black mist.

It's not just the pain caused by the spiritual transformation. After all, Van Gogh has long been accustomed to the so-called pain. If it were just the pain caused by physical damage, it would only make her more excited, because such damage is enough to be called "salvation" for her.

However, the pain he felt at this moment was not physical. The changes at the soul level were in violent conflict with the orders given to him by his Master. It was as if another self was being peeled off from his (Van Gogh's) soul. In that instant, Van Gogh even saw another self who was no longer her (Van Gogh).

The mental anguish caused Van Gogh to curl up on the ground. The pain tearing through her soul made her unable to utter a single sound. She seemed powerless in the face of the black fog...

However, at this moment, Duanmu Ye's voice pierced through countless noisy and harsh sounds, bypassed the obstruction of almost losing her five senses due to pain, and reached her ears.