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

"Kill you......"

The statue of the crucifixion of Jesus has changed. Logically speaking, a statue carved out of stone would not change so easily, but at this moment the blackened stone statue is dissolving at an extremely fast speed, not only the stone statue of the crucifixion of Jesus, but also all the objects in the entire church.

Only the silver-haired girl and the pitch-black knight standing outside the burning flames were not affected at all.

"What's wrong, Duanmu? Isn't this the answer you've always wanted to know? Why aren't you smiling?"

Nayako seemed to be looking forward to Duanmu Ye's next answer, but Duanmu Ye ignored it at this moment.

"Kill you......"

The undestroyed lake light that had not been returned before now turned into a giant flaming sword wrapped in flames. He simply pulled out the hidden sword from his back and slashed towards Nyako. Wherever he passed, a trail of flames was cut on the ceiling, walls, and even the ground.

At the same time, outside the church that had been shaking, Kotomine Kirei, who had been reluctant to push the door open, stared at the closed church. Having just returned from the Tōsaka family, he looked around solemnly, but the only thing he found unusual was an easel without drawing paper facing the door.

In the silent moment, Kotomine Kirei called upon Hassan of a Hundred Faces who was following closely beside him. Although only the pure one was left, the one who was least willing to carry out assassinations, Kotomine Kirei still let her be the spy for surveillance outside the church.

At this moment, he needed to go to a place where Tōsaka Tokiomi was most likely to be.

The ruins of the Matou family, which had long been burned down...

But the next moment when Kotomine Kirei turned around and wanted to leave, the noise coming from the church behind him once again made him hesitate to take that step easily.

Even without looking back, he could tell that there were a few more traces of flames outside the church. The flames that were so precise in their paths did not look like a fire inside the church. The only conclusion he could draw was that it was a fight between Caster and "Matou Sakura".

"Lord... please forgive the ignorant intruder..."

It was impossible to determine who Kotomine Kirei was praying to or for at this moment, but after putting the cross on his chest to his lips and muttering something, he started walking towards the ruins of the Matou residence.

At this moment, he had no idea what was happening in the outside world. He only knew that either Nyako died in his hands, or he would be the first to be unable to withstand Nyako's torture and fall down.

However, he did not intend to feel sad about the possible failure, nor would he shed a tear for the future after failure.

Tears will not help him defeat the enemy in front of him, and sadness will not free him from this reality. He can only rely on his own hands and the strength he can get in his hands.

Whether he is a human, a monster, or even a being similar to an Outer God, he is not originally a human from this world. There are also those who stick to their original intentions among the Adventers. Why should he worry about whether he will become a "monster" like them?

Therefore, Duanmu Ye was never angry because his existence was messed up by Nia Ratotep, but was only angry at her wanton manipulation of other people's fate and her repeated attempts to lead him to despair!

The indestructible lake light wrapped in flames in his hand seemed to have become a special treasure. It no longer belonged to Lancelot, but to Duanmu Ye at this moment, to Duanmu Ye who was using the power of Cthugya.

"Oh, it seems like if I don't use that move, you might really kill me..."

Nyako squinted her eyes. At this moment, she was floating in the air at a very slow speed. Her lower body had disappeared. Whether it was her hanging arms or something else, they had completely disappeared. Below her body, there was still a considerable amount of fire on the ground and the wall.

“hen n—shin n!”

As he spoke, Duanmu Ye, who had not lost consciousness, raised her eyes. Nayako, whose half body was cut off by him, did not die. Behind her, Lancelot, who had been on standby, took action.

Is he going to backstab?

Duanmu Ye thought so, and was even prepared that if Lancelot really intended to backstab Nyaruko at this moment, he could even use the Command Spell to assist Lancelot.

However, this thought had just popped up when it was replaced by the scene in front of him.

Lancelot straightened his hunched body and slowly straightened his chest, growling in pain. The tingling pain in his right arm seemed to be foreshadowing something, and amidst the painful growls, a crack appeared in the armor on Lancelot's chest.

It was not a destruction from the outside, but a crack that appeared from the inside like a new seedling breaking through the soil. It became more and more obvious and expanded in the increasingly obvious roar.

Then, the armor at the heart of the Dark Knight, where the magic furnace taken from Kenneth was supposed to be stored, shattered into pieces in an instant. The chest cavity that was opened from the inside danced horribly with its exposed ribs. Even at the location of the spirit core that had been fused with the magic furnace, a little black mist wrapped around it was constantly wriggling, like the mouthparts of some creature.

"Ah... I thought you knew, after all, it was something you took with my power. I kept it a secret to give you a surprise, but it's your fault, Duanmu, that you never took the bait..."

The black mist extended a tentacle-like entity and touched Nyaruko's broken body. At this moment, Duanmu Ye wanted to make some excuses, but he suddenly remembered that the tentacle he used when he took out the magic furnace from Diarmuid's body was the same black mist-like tentacle that was now wrapped around Nyaruko's broken body.

Were you prepared from that time?

Duanmu Ye was shameless at the moment, but the light in his eyes revealed his current thoughts.

"Although I didn't use him as planned, I still want to thank you, Duanmu. Thank you for providing me with such excellent material, which allows me to maximize my power in a way that is more suitable for this world and will not be expelled!"

Nyako's voice gradually became unclear. After being completely swallowed by Lancelot's chest, Lancelot's armor became some kind of biological armor, just like the "Fantasy Summoning" performed by Matou Kariya before. An armor that looked like Kamen Rider Black Sun appeared before his eyes.

At this moment, Lancelot was completely replaced by Nyaruko. Those armors, which were of high quality, seemed to provide Nyaruko with a certain degree of resistance to pressure, fire and heat.

Ordinary attacks obviously had no effect on Nyaruko at this stage. Neither fists nor the flaming sword made of lake light, which was still intact in his hands even though Lancelot had been replaced, could cause much damage to Nyaruko now.

But Duanmu Ye is not at the end of his rope, because he still has a dead end...

The flames were gathered in an instant, not surrender, but further compressed within the body. However, the potential energy of the flames at this moment was a hundred times that of using the giant flaming sword just now, and ten thousand times that of using fists!

"Naija, I'm fucking mad at you!"

-

I did a quick calculation and found that I took one day off (owed two chapters) and wrote 4 chapters for three days (owed three chapters). Never mind, whether I can pay it back or not, I'll still write chapters a day or even more starting from tomorrow...

Water, Wind, Flower: Chapter 90: The Black Knight's Exit, a Wish Fulfilled in a Dream

The silent church suddenly shook violently, and then returned to silence in an instant as if nothing had happened.

The violent movement made Van Gogh, who was lying unconscious on the ground, regain a little consciousness. In the haze, she seemed to hear a clear and pleasant piano sound like the singing of orioles and swallows. But when her consciousness began to return and her vision, which had been plunged into darkness, had some light, the piano sound disappeared without a trace as if it had never appeared.

For some reason, the mental weakness made Van Gogh look a little dazed at the moment. She seemed to have forgotten many things and couldn't even remember what had happened to her just now.

He wanted to use his hands to correct the emptiness and pain in his head, but the sharp and soft touch made Van Gogh lower his raised arm and place it in front of his eyes.

"Hehe....Hehehe...Ahh, has it become like this...What happened? What happened? Come to think of it, I need to commit suicide (self-harm) at this time, right? Only then can I (Van Gogh) remember my existence (name)..."

The short white hair is like the stars in the sky. Even though it is broad daylight, the stars in the sky are clearly visible for some reason.

Looking up at the sky, Van Gogh smiled a little crazily. His low laughter sounded extremely eerie and creepy.

At this moment, the arms, which were so thin that they seemed as if they were malnourished, were covered by trumpet-shaped sleeves. The cuffs were bulging like some kind of arranged bouquet of flowers, and the inside was exactly what Van Gogh had in mind at this moment.

Young sunflowers replaced her arms and but her bloated arms did not feel uncomfortable at all. The insides shaped like a bouquet seemed to have grown out of her body. While replacing her arms, there were also five petals connected to her cuffs to form a black object that looked like claws.

Both his body and limbs became inhuman creatures after he prayed to the creators who created him. Although Van Gogh had forgotten many things at this moment, he still remembered his name clearly and retained all the memories since he came here.

Preserving such remnants of memory is like a blessing from God, but also like a punishment from God. She does not regret becoming like this. It is better to say that she should appear here in this posture. It is only because her inner desire has been responded to by the part of her personality that has been integrated into her body that she can walk on this land as a "normal person".

But today, the past seems to emerge in his mind like a dream bubble. Living a normal life like a normal person seems to be what he wants. But at this moment, it is obvious that Van Gogh can no longer really regard himself as a normal person, or even a human being...

However, just as Van Gogh's body underwent an irreversible transformation, becoming the sin and evil that clearly did not belong to anyone in her body, but undoubtedly belonged to her own "evil of existence", the church that had returned to silence was engulfed in flames in an instant!

The impact of the explosion caused all the buildings and vegetation around the church to rise from the ground. Even many buildings, vegetation, and mountains closer to the center of the explosion were subjected to unprecedented high temperatures in the sudden explosion. In an instant, they turned into black charcoal and were reduced to powder by the impact of the wind and waves.

Van Gogh, who was not affected at all, looked at the scene in front of him with some shock. Almost two-thirds of the wall was destroyed, leaving only a wall less than half a person's height to cover the flames burning inside. In the bright flames, there were still some human figures standing in the middle.

This power that did not belong to any of her creators made Van Gogh feel a little scared at the moment. Even though he had the ability to absorb the curse, facing such a flame that had turned everything on the mountain into charcoal, Van Gogh was not sure whether he could transfer such a curse and let the person who bore the pain of the curse from Duanmu Ye to her who brought these curses here.

Her body slowly floated up inadvertently. In this posture, no matter how much power Duanmu Ye borrowed from the Water Priest, the Wind Nobleman, or the Mars Flower, as long as she was willing to use it as she had become a messenger of God, she could ignore other restrictions and use it to her heart's content, which would make her even more crazy.

Van Gogh really wanted to do this. Whether he used the power of the Water Priest to extinguish the flame that seemed to have life, or used the power of the Nobleman of Wind to blow out the flame that continued to spread from the church, Van Gogh thought so and raised his hands to face himself who had already become a non-human.

But at this moment, she suddenly discovered that neither the power of the Water Priest nor the power of the Wind Nobleman responded to her expectations, and there seemed to be another figure in the hands of the dark figure that slowly emerged from the flames.

"how come......"

Van Gogh widened her eyes. The flames prevented her from seeing the details of the figure. The flames rising in front of her eyes blocked out everything outside, but the figure dragging the black shadow in his hand was constantly walking towards the collapsed gate.

door?

Van Gogh suddenly had an idea and thought that he could use his painting ability to soothe the flames here, but when a flat-headed paintbrush staff appeared behind him, Van Gogh stopped what he was doing.

She couldn't be sure whether the figure that appeared in the flames at this moment was the Duanmu Ye she knew, or the Master with whom she had signed a contract.

Whether it was the bringer of the flame or the threatening black fog, apart from Duanmu Ye, only Van Gogh knew and understood their abilities best.

Therefore, Van Gogh hesitated, and she felt guilty and regretful for her hesitation at this moment. But when she made up her mind to paint, the black shadow in the fire was already close at hand, and was even breaking through the barrier of the flames, and sticking out dark fingers from it.

It was a suit of armor with a metallic luster, but in Van Gogh's eyes, even with the metallic luster, it had the texture of a living creature. It was obviously not Duanmu Ye's hand, or even a human hand.

Van Gogh, holding a flat-head paintbrush, was ready to intercept from the outside. Even though every action in this posture would deepen his madness, Van Gogh had already put such things behind him. He just wanted Duanmu Ye's hard work so far to not be wasted.

“A….”

A breeze caressed the flames gently. It was the power of the Noble Prince of Wind, the wind controlled by Hastur. It gently stirred the flames, and sounds were carried in the wind.

Eh?

The effect of the Command Spell engraving was still in effect, so the moment Van Gogh heard the voice coming from the wind, he knew who the person who stretched out his hand from the flames was.

"Ar......sa......"

The sound ended with half of the arm stretched out, and the vague shadow of the whole body could be seen turning into a black light spot in the wind and began to dissipate. Lancelot's death made Van Gogh open her eyes wide. She didn't know what had happened in the church, but at this moment she had a very bad premonition.

Without any hesitation, at the moment Lancelot disappeared, the silk beside Van Gogh was like a paintbrush, freely painting in the void, and the ruined church without flames appeared on the drawing paper in front of him in just a few strokes.

The flames that had spread out seemed to be slowly converging at this moment...

......

"I'm sorry, I was the one who betrayed again in the end..."

Beneath a high wall that could almost be called an iron wall, the dark purple knight lowered his head while muttering, and turned his gaze away from the azure sky that was similar to the most beautiful part of his memory.

His messy long hair had faint traces of burning, and even his face looked extremely haggard.

"I can't blame you entirely. I should have thought of it earlier. He won't miss any opportunity to torture me."

Duanmu Ye, standing in front of the knight, felt a little helpless. To a certain extent, he should have turned into ashes by now, and disappeared from the surface of that world together with Nyako.

His perception of the outside world was interrupted when he burst out with all his strength and rushed towards Nyaruko, who had not yet fully merged, like using an Ultra Bomb. In Duanmu Ye's view, he was probably in a state between life and death, and this was a dreamland constructed based on Lancelot's dream, which made Duanmu Ye unsure whether he was dead or alive.

Lancelot did not answer. He raised his head and looked at the city gate that he was very familiar with. Tears gradually began to well up in his eyes.

After a moment of silence, Duanmu Ye accepted the situation calmly.

"Let's go. I said before that I would let you see the King Arthur you wanted to see. I think at this moment, the hint I left on you must have taken effect..."

The Water Priest's power requires the target to dream in order to activate. For a Heroic Spirit whose original body has long since died, such a prerequisite is almost impossible to achieve. However, there is one exception...

When a servant's obsession with a wish reaches a certain level, he will also recall his life at the moment of death, just like seeing a shadow of his obsession in a dream, which is used to strengthen the servant's pursuit of the Holy Grail that can fulfill the wish, so that they can continue to respond to the call of the Holy Grail next time.

This should have been a means of driving the Heroic Spirits to work for him, but it was being used at this moment, becoming the prerequisite for the hint that had been given to Lancelot when Matou Kariya was still alive, and it was successfully activated.

As he spoke, the thick city wall opened from the inside. Looking at the empty road in the city that led directly to the deepest castle, Lancelot moved involuntarily.

The knight's life emerged in his mind one by one as he walked towards the castle. Duanmu Ye could not see what scenes were in Lancelot's mind at the moment, but he still stopped outside the castle and nodded slightly to Lancelot.

This is a dreamland created by Lancelot's dream. He is not interested in what will happen next. No matter what kind of communication he has with Artoria, it has nothing to do with Duanmu Ye who is thinking about his own situation at the moment.

The yellow robe was once again draped over him. Even after removing the yellow robe symbolizing "Hastur," the flame rising from his hands remained as warm and profound as before. He did not use Nyar-Latotep's "Faceless Walker" here...

Logically speaking, Hastur, who was slacking off, did not strictly participate in the creation of "Van Gogh", but he made a treasure and gave it to "Van Gogh", and to this day, the manifestation of the power of the Outer God in his body is mostly based on "Hasta".

At this moment, Duanmu Ye raised his head. The breeze around him was so clear that it made him feel a little relieved and calm.

The great Hastur is different from the other Outer Gods. His kindness is self-evident, and his greatness needs no further explanation...

At this moment, when Duanmu Ye was expressing his inner piety and admiration, the blue sky changed slightly. The arrival of dusk seemed to have only passed in a few blinks of an eye, and it seemed as if he had really waited from day to dusk.

There are many ways to explain this scene. Duanmu Ye is more convinced that all the changes in the world created by Lancelot's dream are derived from Lancelot's state of mind, and his state of mind at this moment has also changed like dusk.

"A knight should die in the twilight of the battlefield, while a traitorous knight should die in the streets. Don't you agree?"

Lancelot's voice came from behind. Duanmu Ye turned slightly and saw him taking off the armor that symbolized honor and looking relaxed.

"It seems like you've gotten what you wanted. Even if this is just a dream formed in your subconscious, or you can think of it less objectively as a parallel world that doesn't belong to you, are you satisfied?"

Duanmu Ye spoke in a deep voice, but Lancelot smiled for the first time on his tired and painful face.

"I can never return to that past, and the king back then would certainly not give me the punishment I desire. Whether it's a dream or my subconscious, I can feel the reality of this world. I have waited for this day for far too long. To hear the king read out my sins and order my execution, I have no reason to refuse."

Lancelot paused, and then the world in the city changed again. Lancelot, who was kneeling on one knee in front of him, lowered his head, and a dark purple magic sword suddenly appeared in Duanmu Ye's hand.

"I have betrayed you, just as I betrayed the king. Even though I have no choice, I hope you will cut off my head and end my life of betrayal..."

Water, Wind, Flower: Chapter 91: Commit suicide, assassin, the yellow branch is in your brain!

The flames were shrinking, and Van Gogh quietly watched the flames converging towards the center of the church. On the slightly abstract oil painting floating beside him, only the ruined church was painted under the spiritual light. The scene of no survivors still made Van Gogh's face have an indescribable sadness.

No one expected more than her that Duanmu Ye would walk out of the flames when they subsided, and no one expected more than her that Duanmu Ye would be the one to survive after experiencing all these things.

However, Lancelot was dead...How could Duanmu Ye, who did not connect with his power, survive easily under such flames?

Just thinking about this, Van Gogh couldn't help but have tears rolling in his eyes, and the speed at which the flames gathered was much faster than Van Gogh had imagined. After just a few thoughts, the flames that had originally burned the entire mountain had been gathered within the range of the church. When he looked up, it was completely like the pattern in the painting, with only the ruins of a church left standing alone in front of him.

"No... that's not it... This isn't what I want to draw..."

Van Gogh shook her head gently, and the tears in her eyes slid down as she shook, wetting the dozen or so canvases around her that she had created through her own abilities. The grayish-white paint continued to spread, painting the sky that was now a little gray due to the fire that had risen earlier.

One, two, three... She created again and again, painted again and again, but the never-ending inspiration did not bring her miracles from the gods of another world. No matter how frantically she painted, in her paintings, there was only the ruined church from beginning to end, and no other shadows existed.