Deep, deep…
Distant, distant…
I see it, in the void-sky spangled with stars.
I see it, upon the sea of chaos overflowing with madness.
It cast down its gaze, from the far shore of the star ocean to this place.
It whispered in my ear; It could no longer wait.
I am Clytie, the sunflower that gazes up at the sun, the nymph of madness, the follower who heard ■■■'s gospel—I shall bring this blessing unto the world, to more and more people… but I am not Clytie.
I am Van Gogh, a painter, a Heroic Spirit engraved in history, the sinner who ferried the madness of the stars into this world—so I must halt the growth of chaos and madness, must stop ■■■'s scheme… but I am not Van Gogh.
I am Shimazaki Yuna, an ordinary person, someone whose spirit is so fragile she cannot even overcome the malice of others—a sinner whose suicidal impulse was seen through by ■■■ and used, thereby bringing calamity into this world—so I could never resist ■■■'s will… but I am not Shimazaki Yuna.
Ahhhhh… who am I?
I am Clytie, I am Van Gogh, I am Shimazaki Yuna…
I am a follower of the Summer Star God, a spreader of the gospel, a sinner, an ordinary person…
Therefore, I shall open the road for my Lord's advent.
Therefore, I shall work hard to murder myself.
Heh… ahahaha! Sorry sorry sorry…! Van Gogh/Yuna can paint… smear, smear… must paint…!
Winding…!
Layering…!
Seeping through…!
Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry…
Van Gogh/Yuna… can't keep going…
...
A being from beyond the star ocean, in the past cast down Its gaze, long ago sowed a single seed.
The seed drew in nourishment; diligent farmers, unaware, drove away the seed-eating sparrows (the world's correction force), creating a perfect environment for its growth.
And at last, today… that seed has blossomed.
The unnameable terror, the unlookable twist, the unspeakable madness.
It bloomed, and scattered more seeds. The scent of the flowers rode the air to the far distance; they needed companions, needed to remake this land more suited for survival, needed to prepare conditions for ■■■'s advent.
A certain breath—a miasma—spread swiftly outward, and yet that breath was not heavy; rather it drifted like mist, making one's consciousness float up and then sink down, leaving a rotting body behind as a husk that answers the call of a great will…
Just then, a shock slammed squarely into everyone's minds, raising towering waves in their spirits. Dizzying, painful—but thanks to that strike, they reclaimed control of their bodies.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH—!!"
A piercing scream—like a wail, yet also like a cheer.
Following that cry, they saw the source of this bizarre miasma.
In a word: a beautiful horror—humanoid, yet far removed from "human," from "life."
Her whole body was a pristine, beautiful white—hair, face, skin, all snow-pale; even the eyeballs were white, with only the sclerae and the inside of the mouth black.
She wore a half-transparent ceremonial dress that made one think of mourning garments. Overall she resembled an enormous jellyfish, ribbons swirling all around her.
She had no hands. In their place were two bundles of sunflowers; from each bouquet extended four very large petals—gray, and as sharp as a beast's talons.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH—!!"
She screamed, mouth lifting as if into a smile, while black tears spilled from her eyes.
Altair knelt on the ground, staring at this "Van Gogh" who had become such a thing. Her eyes were vacant, her face blank, like a sleepwalker who had not yet awakened.
"Why… why did it become like this?"
I clearly rescued my Master from the evil god's hands, removed the seal the evil god set upon Master's memories.
Why… why is Master in such pain?
"Master. Master! Can you hear Me? Master—!"
"AAAAAAAAAAH—!!"
Altair trembled as she stood, staggering toward "Van Gogh," calling to her again and again, trying to wake her reason by sheer voice.
But it was useless.
Step by step, closer and closer… then Altair's foot came down on the shadow spreading at "Van Gogh's" feet.
In the next instant, countless twisted, ferocious monsters crawled out of that shadow, suffocating malice pouring off them as they lunged for Altair—who had no time to react.
At the very split second, a black ribbon snapped out, coiling around Altair's waist and yanking her back hard—the monsters struck only empty air.
Altair slammed onto her back, staring blankly at the sky with lifeless eyes for a long moment.
"Be careful. She can't hear you right now."
Beside Altair stood Shimazaki Yuna… or rather, the being who had always appeared before them under the name "Shimazaki Yuna." Behind "Shimazaki Yuna" floated a jellyfish as flat as paper. It did not look like a creature that should exist in reality—more like one that had slipped out of a painted world. The ribbon that rescued Altair was in fact one of this jellyfish's tentacles.
The moment Altair saw that jellyfish, her pupils shuddered violently.
"This is…"
The "Shimazaki Yuna" before Altair had already become a mass of blackness, only a rough human outline remaining. The "shell" draped over her was at its breaking point.
"Shimazaki Yuna" ignored the stunned Altair. All her attention was fixed upon "Van Gogh"—and the monsters being hauled from the shadow by "Van Gogh."
"Ahhh… again. All day long, sending these weak little creeps who are great at being disgusting. I'm getting nervous breakdowns over here. You can't kill them all; at best you lock them in the shadows for a bit."
Saying so, "Shimazaki Yuna" flicked her brush, splashing out swathes of black paint.
Where the paint splattered onto monsters, sunflowers sprouted from their bodies the next instant, blooming into vivid black flowers. The afflicted monsters shriveled at speed, until they became nothing but nutrients for the sunflowers' growth and bloom. And then those sunflowers turned back into paint and returned to "Shimazaki Yuna's" brush.
Again, "Shimazaki Yuna" swept her brush toward the sky, and black picture frames appeared, floating. Each frame burst with a suction like a black hole, swallowing up a portion of the monsters. Paintings then formed within those frames—the monsters imprisoned inside the pictures.
When the monster horde charged "Shimazaki Yuna," countless black spikes thrust up from her shadow underfoot, skewering the dumb beasts—like a replay of the scene where the Impaler prince ran twenty thousand Ottoman soldiers onto stakes.
Thus, the army of monsters crawling out from "Van Gogh's" shadow was cut down at incredible speed by "Shimazaki Yuna." Her pace of extermination surpassed even the combined efforts of Selesia and the other Created. And yet, the monsters emerged no slower than they died—seemingly endless.
Suddenly, "Shimazaki Yuna" tilted her head. A lightning-swift strike grazed her cheek—no grave injury, but it shattered a corner of the "shell" she wore.
That shell, long at the brink, seemed to trigger a chain reaction at that blow; cracks ran, fragments broke off in ever-larger flakes—until… the face hidden beneath that shell was revealed.
Altair's eyes flew wide, for she saw that face—the face she had longed for day and night.
Her Master's face. Van Gogh's face.
Only, her skin was blue—the proof of her inhuman nature.
She was smiling—yet in those limpid pale-blue eyes there was not the slightest trace of mirth.
Having struck and shattered "Shimazaki Yuna's" shell, "Van Gogh" froze when she saw the true face beneath.
"Van Gogh… Van Gogh?"
"As you can see—Van Gogh, yep. Ehehe… Recognize me? Do you remember anything, Yuna?"
"Shimazaki Yuna"—or rather, Van Gogh—narrowed her eyes slightly and smiled.
"Ahhh… Van Gogh… Van Gogh?"
Black tears streamed down. "Van Gogh" lowered her head, petal-shaped claws raking her own cheeks, screaming in frenzy and confusion, "Van GoghVanGoghVanGoghVanGoghVanGoghVanGogh…!!"
"Yes, that's right—it's Van Gogh… Van Gogh is right here."
Van Gogh looked straight at "Van Gogh," a faint smile on her face, her voice gentle—as if soothing—laced with a calming charm.
When "Van Gogh" raised her head again, something new flickered in those black pupils. She stared at Van Gogh in disbelief.
"Van… Gogh… Van Gogh…"
"Mm-mm. Say it, Yuna—Van Gogh is listening."
Around them, the monsters quieted as well—seemingly because Van Gogh had done something. She, too, possessed the power to command these creatures, only her access level outranked "Van Gogh's."
Seizing that chance, Van Gogh continued to soothe "Van Gogh" while slowly walking toward her.
"I'm sorry…"
"Van Gogh's" body trembled faintly—as if trying, as if struggling. She looked at Van Gogh, forcing out a smile uglier than a sob. "Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry…"
"Van Gogh/Yuna… can't keep going… I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry…!!"
As "Van Gogh's" emotions destabilized, the surrounding monsters grew violent again, their spirit-shaking howls of pollution rising in waves.
Van Gogh's gaze sharpened. Realizing the other was about to do something irrational, she abandoned soothing at once and lunged forward in a single bound.
She was still a step too late.
In an instant, blinding radiance filled heaven and earth. The light had none of the Sun Wheel's heat; it was simply, purely dazzling.
It came suddenly, and faded just as fast. Only—gone with it was "Van Gogh's" figure.
Lifting her head to the dim, fathomless night sky, Van Gogh spoke slowly, her voice laced with complicated feeling.
"The one who should say sorry… should be Van Gogh—me."
...
In the already-ruined hot spring inn—ceiling torn open, furnishings flung aside—the group each found a relatively flat spot and began to talk.
"Um… well… hello, everyone. Nice to meet you… I mean, that's not quite right. Though it's the first time I've shown my true face before you, Van Gogh still retains the memories of being with everyone… this… that… Sum! Summing up! Van Gogh is Van Gogh. Please take care of me… ehehe…"
Under the pressure of many stares, Van Gogh wore a somewhat strained smile, like a senior defending her thesis at the lectern, and finished her self-introduction.
Before Van Gogh stood Selesia, Meteora, Mirokuji Yūya, Blitz Talker, Altair, and Hoshikawa Hikayu. Though earlier they were fighting with zero mercy, now they stood together more or less peacefully—all eyes focused on Van Gogh alone.
Her hair—orange, with a faded gray tinge—was tied in a single tail falling over her left chest. Her skin was neither the yellow, white, nor black of normal humans, but blue—as if to prove her inhuman identity. She wore a black Western-style mourning dress; the sleeves were half-transparent like a jellyfish's. The dress was cut out at the midriff, exposing belly and navel. Her ten fingers were sharp—unhuman.
"Although we have a mountain of urgent questions…"
As the designated brain of the group, Meteora stepped forward as their representative. Looking at Van Gogh before her with a complicated expression, she parted her lips and spoke softly. "But first… can you tell us who you are? Van Gogh? Yuna? Or the evil god?"
"Van Gogh is Van Gogh—Clytie Van Gogh… I'm sorry. I've been lying to you all this time."
Van Gogh lowered her head. The apology in her eyes and voice didn't feel fake.
"But please believe this as well… Van Gogh had reasons she absolutely had to do this."
"None of that concerns me!"
Altair shoved aside the person next to her, glared at Van Gogh, and demanded, "Your goal, your reasons, the world's survival—I care nothing for those. I only want to know: where is Master!"
"Tch! Figures—you're just a brat."
Mirokuji Yūya frowned. The situation had him irritated too, and his tone unconsciously got harsher.
His voice reached Altair's ears and drew a vicious glare from her.
"Hah? You lookin' for a fight?"
"As if I'd be scared of you!"
Hoshikawa Hikayu stood off to the side, wanting to intervene but too cowed by their clashing auras to step in. After all, she'd reverted to being that ordinary girl who only knew how to date and had no powers at all.
Selesia stared off slightly, clearly preoccupied. In truth, she was worrying about Kanoya Rui and Charon, who had vanished together with "Van Gogh."
Of those present, only Blitz Talker and Meteora still managed to keep their cool.
Van Gogh drew a slow breath, then lifted her head and swept her gaze across everyone there.
"Van Gogh will tell you—the whole truth, everything you want to know."
"We've reached the final, most crucial part. There's no longer any need to keep hiding things, to keep deceiving you."
"Because if we fail, this world—and every living thing that exists within it—will never see tomorrow."
---
author is ranting again enjoy!
Speaking of which, when it comes to the Servant Sugitani Zenjuubou, at first I thought he was a guy. And as everyone knows, I don't like raising male characters—unless they hit really hard (like Ashiya Dōman) or are super handsome (like Senji Muramasa). So I never leveled Sugitani Zenjuubou.
Until one time, while browsing online, I suddenly stumbled on a Sugitani Zenjuubou fanart—and was instantly thunderstruck!
First glance… what a magnificent chest!
Second glance… why does this gal look so familiar?
Then I looked it up and realized Sugitani Zenjuubou is female… or rather, her body is female. She used to be male, but while on the run she encountered Kashin Koji; to avoid being recognized by her enemies, she had him craft her a new body—which turned out to be a woman's. As a Heroic Spirit she's still female, though the "gender" field is listed as Unknown.
If it were only that, fine. But while digging through material I also listened to her voice lines, and there's this one: "Watching you sleep… I feel like I understand a little better what it means to protect Human Order."
Holy crap! That line hits so good! She's into me! Ohohohoho—!
...
bonus chaps
100 stones -> 1 chapter
200 stones -> 2 chapters
300 stones -> 3 chapters
and so on
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