Don't use Type-Moon references in Oregairu!

Imagine this: the opposing team has just suffered a defeat and is being outmaneuvered by a bunch of weaklings from the Dream Realm. In this situation, there's no glimmer of victory, not even a tiny spark of it. So why are they suddenly fighting amongst themselves?

Even the group of dead men who were lifted up didn't know the answer to this question.

"Let me go, you brainless, low-quality bastards!"

"Get out of here! All of you, get out of here!"

Almost simultaneously, all those with the wisdom to manipulate the Dead Apostles desperately tried to activate the methods taught to them by their Lord Jealousy, but all their efforts were in vain.

Only then did they begin to realize that they had never truly held power over these groups. They began to viciously curse some distant figure until their own throats were gripped by fangs, and not a sound escaped their lips.

The anomalies in the Far East stirred up hidden connections, which then crossed half the globe to reach a distant place.

On Denali, the highest mountain range in North America, the man with clown makeup stopped what he was doing to Arrogance.

"Kuhahaha, I didn't expect there would be someone capable of fulfilling the hidden conditions. Did they directly confront the Pacific Fleet when they retrieved the offerings? Or did they take on a US military base head-on?"

The clown felt no frustration whatsoever; he just felt like he was about to laugh until he cried.

As the creator, he naturally understood the current situation. It was because the horde of thousands of monsters had been massively slaughtered and then attacked by alien energy. To protect itself, that force would naturally shut off the valves—that is, devour those intelligent controllers.

He was well aware of just how terrifying the monster army created under his control, powered by that being's strength, would be. Even using enchanted psionic bullets, it would be necessary to constantly weaken the power of the inferior undead to ensure a kill.

The magic would be more powerful, while the purifying power of the baptismal chant found in the otherworldly cave would be even more effective in counteracting the attack. However, even with the attack of a mythical-level grand ritual, it would be difficult to completely kill them after withstanding the red mist formed by thousands of inferior undead.

Unable to anticipate that the monsters would fall into a dimensional trap and cause their power to disperse, the clown, injured by the grand magic, speculated: "Could it be that they were stupid enough to scatter and get ambushed in a large base? Anyway, they were really too stupid, hahaha."

"You can still laugh? You really are crazy."

Someone gave a cold sneer.

She was an aloof woman, her clothes torn and tattered, covered in blood. On her back were fragmented, fallen wings and demonic wings, clearly several of which had been torn off.

She was firmly bound to an altar, with long nails nailing her shoulder blades, hands, and feet to the surface, like a sacrificial offering.

"Why am I laughing? It's all because of you!" The Jealous Joker made an exaggerated bowing and chest-touching gesture. "Our great leader of the Seven Deadly Sins, actually, would rather transform from a man into a woman in order to become a higher being. It's utterly ridiculous, hahahahaha."

He laughed until large tears streamed down his face, then turned into ice pellets and fell to the ground atop this peak less than a kilometer from the Arctic Circle.

"Ha, what's so laughable about wanting to become a being close to God? What's even more laughable is that we, who thought we had gained power, arrogantly swallowed the mark of original sin and were then processed into your sacrifice, God's bride?"

Even as he recounted his humiliating ordeal, Arrogance stubbornly raised his face high, looking at the clown with disdain.

"Ahhh, that look, that's it! Mordo! Mordo!" The clown hugged himself tightly, twisting his body in ecstasy. "You...you've all grown up so well, just as the gods had hoped! It's...amazing!"

"And then? I was tied to the highest peak in North America, probably because you promised immortality to the powerful and wealthy in Canada and America. The other four were also prepared and tied to the highest peaks in other continents, right? Not to mention whether you can retrieve the last sacrifice... You wouldn't be crazy enough to use Mount Everest as a sacrifice site, would you? You really have guts."

He—no, she—sighed. That ancient nation had been active for a time in the early stages of this world's transformation. Even the [Reform Society], which now cooperates with various countries' governments, was initiated by the nation's elites. But as all attempts at change were rejected, the nation grew increasingly silent. Yet no one dared to underestimate them. Even the Seven Deadly Sins withdrew after suffering heavy losses.

"Huh? Isn't half of Mount Everest in another country? I'm on that side, and I haven't bothered them at all." Jealousy smiled strangely, his words practically announcing that he was already prepared.

"I see... It seems the true god you worship is indeed powerful. Then I look forward to our end." Arrogance looked up at the sky.

On this mountain peak, she had never felt the sky so close to her, and then she suddenly laughed: "But I'm curious, what would happen if your offering failed to be retrieved and you died?"

"Who knows?"

Jealousy gazed at the archipelago, its eyes always filled with mockery.

-------------------------------------

“I know what’s wrong with these guys now… How disgusting…” Fujimaru Ritsuka watched as the inferior Dead Apostles went berserk, tearing apart all the commanders and swallowing them whole, which then caused an even greater change.

In the Eye of Karma's vision, the red mist that had been writhing in the countless spatial labyrinths was like a husky that had finally been untied from its Elizabethan collar and began to stir wildly.

Ignoring space and distance, it permeates invisible spatial barriers, beginning to connect and take shape.

"We can't let them get away! All high-powered ranged attacks, fire!"

Fujimaru Ritsuka decisively issued the order, sounding the horn for a general offensive.

"The moon in the clouds at midnight, fleeting and without a trace—" Kasumigaoka Utaha, who had been clinging tightly to Fujimaru Ritsuka, awakened the poetess's power without hesitation.

The elegant words of the Heian period resounded on the battlefield, and the lyrical poems of Kasen echoed across this eerie battlefield. Kasumigaoka Utaha, holding a bat fan, gracefully spun around once, bestowing the power of exorcism and purification upon her allies.

Everyone was infused with courage, and even in the face of such a bizarre and abhorrent scene, a natural sense of disgust welled up within them.

First, the non-awakened ones, except for Sasagawa Yagokoro, all put down their pistols and used their favorite magic tricks or skills.

A rain of spinning and exploding fireballs, thunderstorms with purifying abilities, and an eerie aura of curses—all sorts of magic burst forth.

Sasagawa Yagokoro, without hesitation, fired five shots in quick succession, then took a deep breath.

His partner, an extraordinary being, was well-prepared and bestowed upon him single-target buffs: Precise Aim, Increased Damage, Physical-Spirit Dual Transformation, and Regeneration and Unyielding buffs.

He pulled the trigger, and the last bullet, which he had specially prepared, was fired from the chamber.

The small armor-piercing rounds specially prepared for the Magnum in hand, combined with many materials effective against the strength of inferior Dead Apostles, flew towards the fatal spot in this group.

It was like a flash of fire that disappeared in an instant, followed by a huge wail from below, and even the red mist began to shake.

"puff!"

Sasagawa Yagokoro coughed up mouthfuls of blood, then exclaimed in disbelief, "No way?! What kind of fatal wound is this? The damage I received was only equivalent to being stabbed twice, and not even into my internal organs?"

Activating the sixth shot of his [Magic Bullet Shooter] ability will allow him to strike the target's vital point and inflict additional damage. After modifications, he can also turn a mutual destruction into the other person dying while he ends up in the hospital.

However, the feedback was so strong that he could recover on his own without even needing magic.

"But! As long as it works, that's fine! Yuihama!"

"Hey hey! An uncle gave me directions, I see it!"

"Grass, read its text—famous throughout the world, the Great Tonglian. Like eight clouds standing on a tiled roof, sparrows pierce and slaughter hordes of evil spirits. Manjushri's Wisdom Sword Great Divine Power—Love Explosion, Heavenly Demon Rain!"

With steps as graceful as a Kagura dance, Yui Yuigahama, wielding her Celestial Robe, stood suspended in mid-air. Her beloved sword, Ootori, floated into the sky, then split into 250 blades, transforming into a sword array ready to charge forward.

With her lightning-fast thinking ability, Yui Yuigahama opened her alluring golden vertical pupils wide and saw the trajectory of the bullet. Then—the sword flew along the void path opened up by Sasagawa Yagokoro.

"Gaaaaaah!" Countless monsters roared, seemingly having indeed struck a weak point.

In Fujimaru Ritsuka's eyes, he saw the red mist seemingly shrinking, and he was greatly excited: "What kind of magic bullet shooter is this? It's almost like the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception... Wait a minute!"

The next moment, the red mist seemed to have adapted, and the swords flying behind it no longer had any effect.

Kasumigaoka Utaha was initially happy for Yui Yuigahama, but then felt a little disappointed. However, she also noticed something was wrong: the monsters' roars had stopped, and the red mist, which had slightly slowed down its connection speed, was spreading again.

We have no choice but to take a gamble.

"Let me pave the way for you all."

Kasumigaoka Utaha tapped her palm with her bat fan, and then her modern Western-style clothes changed in an instant.

The magnificent and heavy twelve-layered kimono wrapped Kasumigaoka Utaha in layers. She stretched out one hand from the wide sleeves, holding a calligraphy brush, and looked down at the battlefield below.

An antique-style desk suddenly appeared in front of Kasumigaoka Utaha. Without any surprise, she knelt down, grabbed her right sleeve with her left hand, and began to write lightly on the paper.

Then, the world seemed to briefly fall from three-dimensional spacetime, the tragic battlefield falling into a huge scroll, and the already overburdened spatial labyrinth breaking open.

"The mourning clothes are pale in color because of the custom, and the sleeves are filled with tears as I weep bitterly."

Singing waka poems and writing down her thoughts, the techniques passed down by the great Onmyoji Abe no Seimei were transformed into ink that warded off evil spirits. The beautiful calligraphy appeared on the battlefield scroll in sync with Kasumigaoka Utaha's writing.

Each stroke of the pen seemed to disrupt the gathering of the red mist on the field, but it did not have any significant effect.

Correspondingly, with each stroke of her pen, Kasumigaoka Utaha's face paled, and her forehead was covered in a thick layer of cold sweat.

"—'The Tale of Genji, Aoi, The Monster of Things'." She drew the final Kikyo Demon-Subduing Seal heavily, almost as if dragging an iron weight.

(They're significantly stronger than when there was a commander present! Impossible. Even if Lady Lisa and the others used the Mythical Grand Ritual, how could my Noble Phantasm, which includes a special attack against demonic energy, not even achieve a tenth of their results? Then—)

In the void, a pentagram of Kikyo, made of ink, naturally appeared, each horizontal line piercing through the red mist, striving to destroy the monster below.

Yes, despite her best efforts to fall, she was unable to inflict more damage on the red mist in her final moments than before.

However, Fujimaru Ritsuka's eyes lit up, and before she could even help Kasumigaoka Utaha up, she shouted without turning her head, "My King! Attack!"

Because Kasumigaoka Utaha had just done something more important than dealing damage. Considering that the spatial labyrinth could no longer stop the enemy, she changed her approach—she would gather them together and separate them.

Gathering together is to allow the Chaldea members to attack the opponent with concentrated strikes; while separating is to try to prevent the opponent from completing the connection of the red mist and forming a shield strong enough to resist.

In reality, this is very difficult to achieve. Even with the previous spatial maze setup, it was only possible to ensure that small-scale bombardments would not be hindered.

However, Kasumigaoka Utaha briefly burned all her magical power and succeeded. She maintained the Kikyo pentagram mark, using the large ink mark to directly divide the monsters on the field into several battlefields of varying sizes. The mark, shimmering with exorcising power, briefly isolated the gathering of the red mist.

This is the perfect time!

Without Fujimaru Ritsuka's reminder, Artoria had already mounted her beloved steed, Don Starion, and leaped high into the air.

The thirteen bonds formed by the shining runes of light were completely released, and the Holy Lance transformed into the spear of light wielded by the giant god, just as a sun rose once again in the sky.

The radiance gathers from the fantastical glow within the planet's inner sea, housing the user's entire spirit and soul, as well as the hopes and aspirations of all comrades.

"A light emanating from the end...! It is the anchor of the storm that tears the sky and connects the earth—shining in the spear of the end!!"

The sun has set.

All the radiance condensed into a giant spearhead, piercing through the clouds, shattering the sound barrier, and passing through the unconnected red mist, carrying the ever-victorious king straight into the scattered formation of the monster horde.

Boom!

The people on the mansion felt as if they were witnessing a magnitude 7 earthquake. Incredibly intense light spread out, carrying hot winds that swept over the monster's vile body and tore it apart.

Even the stubborn and evil red mist was blown away and dispersed by the radiance.

"We won? Yeah!" Sasagawa Yagokoro coughed up blood, raised his right hand high, and cheered in victory.

Just as everyone was about to cheer, they saw that Fujimaru Ritsuka remained completely still.

He stared intently at the battlefield, where the dust had not yet settled, his expression filled with deep concern.

No matter how dazzling the light was, he insisted on keeping his eyes open, even if it brought tears to his eyes.

Amidst the holy and dazzling light, powerful enough to purify all evil, a single crimson dot still flickers, stubbornly refusing to be extinguished.

Because of his behavior, everyone began to realize that something was wrong and started turning on the medicine to recover.

The dust has settled and the smoke has cleared, and even those without the Demon Eye can see two dark figures among them.

One of the figures, with his back to them, rode a tall horse and pointed a long spear at the other side.

Then, everyone fell silent.

On a carpet of severed limbs and broken bodies, a figure completely out of place on the battlefield stood atop charred remains.

She was a beautiful woman with long, shimmering golden hair, dressed in an elegant white dress reminiscent of a court gown, like a medieval noblewoman who had stumbled upon this cruel battlefield.

Without hesitation, all those confident in their sniping skills raised their weapons, and then they couldn't pull the trigger.