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

A shrill sound pierced the sky, and a huge blood-red bird swooped down from the sky, snatched Van Gogh from the hands of the Fire Spirit, and placed it on its back.

The flapping wings did not match its body, and even the strong smell of blood made Van Gogh, who was a little dizzy after spinning 360 degrees in the air several times, regain consciousness.

Immediately afterwards, Van Gogh raised his head and saw a figure flying into the sky from under the strange bird, and then landed safely on the ground.

The Baiyaki that was constantly circling in the air did not completely become a mount. What it was gazing at from its deep and sunken eye sockets was synchronized in Duanmu Ye's mind at the same time.

At this moment, Duanmu Ye, who was in the process of splitting himself apart, did not feel uncomfortable because of the new image in his mind. Perhaps because he was in the incarnation of the Yellow King, he was completely calm about this almost bizarre thing...

In response, Duanmu Ye silently placed Yang Yuhuan on Baiyaki's back. The summons for its appearance were not limited by time or space. They came from the distant space across the sea of ​​stars and received this command from the future much earlier than he thought.

Whether it was Yang Yuhuan, who gradually regained her footing after being put down, or Van Gogh, who kept glancing at the other unreasonable biological features on Baiyaki's back, they both noticed something very shocking at this moment.

That is, although they were clearly in mid-air, even flying at full speed, they and others were not affected at all as if they were walking on flat ground. Even if they were standing like this, there was not the slightest shaking, even though the strange bird was flapping its wings.

"Is this...Bayaki?"

Van Gogh exclaimed faintly. Although she knew that such a summoned creature existed, she had never felt it so close, never been close to it, let alone stood on its back...

Van Gogh's words made Yang Yuhuan tilt her head. She was not afraid of such a creature. Instead, she sensed some magical flow from it, similar to that of the Maid of Fire she possessed.

In Yang Yuhuan's opinion, the relationship between this strange bird and Duanmu Ye was probably the same as that between herself and the Maid of Fire, that is, master and servant, except that compared to her own Maid of Fire, it was rarely summoned.

However, after thinking about it carefully, Yang Yuhuan understood why it was rare to see Duanmu Ye summon such a mount.

After all, Japan is a very small place. If it had flown at this speed, if it had not been constantly circling the monster, it would have flown out of Japan long ago.

However, when the two looked in the direction of Duanmu Ye again, in the gap of thought, the arm that was torn from the neck and stretched out had disappeared without a trace.

But when Yang Yuhuan tilted her head and wanted to ask Duanmu Ye, who did not respond or react at all, Van Gogh grabbed Yang Yuhuan and asked her why he left her to fall like that.

Of course, at this moment Duanmu Ye was grateful to Van Gogh for being able to tell at a glance that he was using a mind-control disguise, changing his current state in their sight, and trying to pull Yang Yuhuan aside instead of getting close to him to break the illusion.

This is not a disguise for any other purpose, it is simply to prevent them from seeing themselves "splitting" in a physical sense so directly.

With the help of the Nobleman of Wind's ability, Duanmu Ye can easily make various changes to his body. Whether it is a change in appearance or shape, he can easily do it with the help of the King of Yellow's ability.

For a normal person with normal thinking, the scene of imagining oneself gradually splitting into pieces in the mind and then splitting and separating the body on the physical level is a performance that will cause the SAN value to drop drastically.

Yang Yuhuan's coma just now was enough to prove this to Duanmu Ye, so at this moment, without any reminder, he used some mental control to change their cognition and vision, so as to ignore what was happening in front of them.

At this moment, Duanmu Ye, whose consciousness was gradually being separated, knew clearly that before the handover of consciousness between the main body and the split body was completed, he would lose control of his consciousness for a very short period of time. During this time, he could not guarantee peace and security in terms of control over his body or mastery of strength.

Right below him, a monster with the same power as this is growing. Although he enjoys the functionality and strength brought by this power, it does not mean that he accepts this power from the bottom of his heart, or even accepts the existence behind this power.

His original intention has not changed with the passage of time. Using evil gods to fight evil gods, and using the power of evil gods to destroy evil gods, this is exactly what Duanmu Ye is planning now!

The chattering conversation in the distance did not affect what was happening behind them, but a "plop" sound coming from behind them attracted their attention.

It was the sound of something not very hard falling to the ground. With only three people on Baiyaki's back, the answer to what fell to the ground was already obvious.

Van Gogh and Yang Yuhuan turned their heads at the same time and couldn't help but scream, because Duanmu Ye, who fell to the ground at this moment, had a very horrible wound on his side, and countless liquids that could be called blood were spreading out from the shriveled flesh along the wound.

But at this moment, what made them exclaim in surprise was another figure that looked exactly like the fallen Duanmu Ye. In his hand, there were tiny tentacles like straws, which stopped just three fingers away from them.

Fear immediately took over the two men's bodies, causing them to freeze in place and unable to move even though they should have stepped back.

Time seemed to stand still at this moment. The serrated mouthparts appeared not far in front of the eyes and kept shaking without launching the next attack.

However, for Van Gogh and Yang Yuhuan at this moment, this weird scene made them full of confusion.

What happened? Why is there a Duanmu Ye lying on the ground, and another one exactly the same in front of me?

Moreover, this "Duanmu Ye" is also attacking him and others?

This strangeness made them feel puzzled, and Yang Yuhuan seemed to have thought of something. She suddenly pulled Van Gogh back and explained what she had not said just now as they walked.

Duanmu Ye wanted to create a one-to-one clone, and this process was happening. She had already known about this plan from Duanmu Ye, but at this moment she was still shocked by this sudden event.

When Yang Yuhuan and Van Gogh turned their heads to look in the direction of Duanmu Ye again, the hand that was stretched out towards them had been retracted, and even the tentacles full of serrations and suction cups had turned into normal hands at this moment.

Then, the body on the ground that looked like a snake's skin gradually swelled up, and slowly stood up with a movement that only invertebrates could do. There was no longer any sunken part like an inflatable doll, and even the shocking wound on the side was completely recovered the moment it stood up.

However, the first person to speak was not "Duanmu Ye" at the back. Duanmu Ye at the front staggered twice, then made way, allowing "himself" at the back to walk in front of Yang Yuhuan and speak solemnly in an extremely serious tone.

"Kill him now, from the inside!"

As soon as he finished speaking, "Duanmu Ye" standing in front raised his hand. In the palm of his hand, there was a gap that was different from Duanmu Ye himself. That was where the young Star Color should have existed, but now it became the place where magic power was injected.

Looking at the hand that seemed to be raised to hold hers, Yang Yuhuan's heart was constantly conflicted and she was unable to make a final decision.

The Duanmu Ye in front of him was exactly Duanmu Ye himself, both in appearance and in sense. The only thing he lacked was his spirituality.

Yang Yuhuan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew that Duanmu Ye would not have that much time for her. Whether she could survive depended entirely on herself...

Immediately, she stepped forward, held the hand extended by "Duanmu Ye", and showed a firm look in her eyes.

"So, you are not my Lord Emperor at all!"

Pipa, Flame, Sun: Chapter 64: Something unexpected is going to happen? No! Van Gogh has your back!

The wind gently blew her long black hair, and the heat in front of her seemed to bring Yang Yuhuan back to the Tang Dynasty more than 1,200 years ago. The cold and hot winds intertwined on Mawei Slope made her unable to get rid of them.

The flames ignited by the times swept across the entire prosperous Tang Dynasty. All the prosperity brought about by her was wiped out under such flames, and so was the "love" that she had long known.

Beauty is the most important "prop" given to her by God. It is the most suitable "weapon" and the most useful "prop" for both the Yang family and those who influence the government. Even today, she will not deny the existence of this fact, even though she has indeed been troubled by it.

She once firmly believed in the "family affection" and "love" brought by this beauty, even after being betrayed by her uncle and realizing that the reason she and her brothers and sisters were rescued was only because her beauty could curry favor with the emperor's children, making his position in the court more stable or even higher.

After entering the palace, she was attracted by the emperor, by the courage and talent of the current emperor. After looking into each other's eyes again and again, accompanying each other again and again, and getting along with each other again and again, she believed that the emperor who was looking directly at her was different from others, and believed that he was attracted to her not simply because of her beauty, but because of "herself".

The innocence of innocence is always as bright as a blooming peony, and the fragrance is so strong that it makes people lose their direction and unable to distinguish the truth from the false.

Until the flames burned the roots of the flowers, the cold wind blew away the remaining leaves of the flowers, and the dry soil no longer needed the decoration of flowers. Even a flower as gorgeous and bright as the peony could not escape the fate of being wantonly broken and trampled by this man.

Yes, no matter whether it is His Majesty the Emperor or the Son of Heaven, they will never truly like a woman who uses her beauty as a "prop" and "weapon", and they will not give their deep affection to a woman who has nothing to do with him and comes from a remote place.

There was a flame flickering in Yang Yuhuan's eyes. It was her anger, her resentment, her anger at being given such beauty, and her resentment at her fate.

But she would not blame anyone, nor would she blame God for giving her this beauty. She buried this emotion in the deepest part of her heart from beginning to end, burning her heart and soul at the deepest part of her soul all the time, and trying her best to do something for others.

"That's why I said... you won't be my emperor at all..."

Yang Yuhuan's words had no beginning or end, as if there was something that was not fully mentioned or said. It was like she suddenly remembered the words and spoke them casually, but Yang Yuhuan knew clearly that the fact was just the opposite.

At this moment, Yang Yuhuan had no idea what Duanmu Ye had gone through to split into a nearly identical self. Just thinking about it, she felt that he must have gone through a very painful experience, perhaps even had a close call with hell, to be able to create a "clone" that was infinitely close to his own self at this moment.

After all, Duanmu Ye is not an immortal, nor is he a person with destiny. At best, he is just a person who has practiced Taoism. He cannot be compared with those old guys and immortals in the Sitianjian.

He knew clearly that if he let her fall into the darkness as expected, everything here would end and she would be the only one sacrificed. From the warning he gave to himself when they first met, it could be seen that he actually knew better than himself what the power in him represented.

Destruction is enough to destroy the power of a prosperous dynasty, just like the giant beast evolved in that era, which is devouring the surface of the world. Her power is even greater than that of the giant beast at this moment.

It was this kind of power with almost no suspense. Duanmu Ye had expressly forbidden himself from using it from the very beginning. Even when he was not around and he had made up his mind to sacrifice himself to solve everything that happened here, Duanmu Ye appeared in the first time to stop him.

Yang Yuhuan had never seen any emperor, any king, give up his life for a woman. Historical records always said that King You of Zhou played tricks on the princes with beacons for Bao Si, and ultimately lost his country and even his life. But such an event was too far away. Yang Yuhuan did not think that with the lessons learned from the past, an emperor would give up his position, his country, and even his life for a woman...

It has always been like this, it's fine for brothers, but for a woman...

Yang Yuhuan thought that maybe he would just push him out like her "Son of Heaven" when necessary, and discard him as a "prop" to consolidate her own position and life.

However, now she is no longer treated as a "prop" to solve problems and discarded at will, but has become a helper in solving problems, providing her actually insignificant ability to solve problems.

For some reason, when Yang Yuhuan said the words that she hated the other person, her eyes became a little moist. Although it was quickly evaporated by the warmth that overflowed from the "container" in front of her when she put all her strength into it, Yang Yuhuan was in a completely different mood at this moment.

This era no longer needs that one and only "Son of Heaven," and she doesn't need to blindly search for the reincarnation of the Son of Heaven. She can completely be herself, the true self she has always wanted to be, but has always been blocked by all kinds of praise from others...

Her heartstrings were plucked, and there seemed to be faint sounds of a piano floating in the wind. Yang Yuhuan slowly closed her eyes, trying her best to prevent the magic power leaving her from being too violent, so as to store more magic power for Duanmu Ye's container, so that the next plan could go smoothly.

It seemed that because of the loss of some connection, the supply of magic power, which should have been in short supply, became a little intermittent at this moment. The lack of magic power supply caused some sweat to gradually appear on Yang Yuhuan's forehead at this moment, and even her expression became a little painful.

"That's enough Yuhuan, no need to force it!"

Duanmu Ye spoke in time to interrupt Yang Yuhuan who was about to continue. On his raised hand, there were tentacles extending from his fingertips, connecting to the clone.

This was the first thing Duanmu Ye did after regaining consciousness. Once the part he had separated was completely disconnected from himself, thirty seconds was the maximum limit. If a Servant with an iron will like Hitler synchronized with this part, it would be overwritten within ten seconds and out of control, just like what happened inside the Holy Grail before.

At this moment, looking at the scene where both the subcutaneous blood vessels and the intact clothes were revealing something like flowing magma, and roughly estimating that the magic capacity was at the limit of Hitler's magic power, Duanmu Ye stopped Yang Yuhuan.

Van Gogh, who was supporting Yang Yuhuan from behind, did not say a word. She just watched everything quietly. After all, there was nothing she could do now.

The next moment after confirming that Yang Yuhuan was caught by Van Gogh, Duanmu Ye did not have a chance to comfort Yang Yuhuan's condition. He controlled his "other self" who carried the power of the two Old Ones "Hastur" and "Cthugha", and walked to the edge of Baiyaki's back.

Hitler's head had already sunk into the clouds, but the main body that made up this disaster was still in the giant pit called Tokyo. It was only a few dozen meters away, or a few dozen seconds, before it would be completely filled and then overflow.

Faced with such exponentially growing monsters, Duanmu Ye could only think of imitating himself in a runaway Kthugya mode, acting as a bomb with a set countdown, and once again destroying everything in the city.

Even Duanmu Ye was not sure whether his plan was feasible, and whether the "self" that was split from himself could successfully complete the planned explosion at the time zero point he estimated after he completed the separation with himself.

Duanmu Ye did not have the time or opportunity to simulate and verify these unknowns. All he could do was to put everything on this one and only chance. If he could let this Cthulhu monster, which embodied Hitler's will for revenge, leave this pit in Tokyo, then everything would be a foregone conclusion.

"Van Gogh, help me cut it off!"

At this moment, Duanmu Ye's fingers were stretched very long, and those fingers connected to the clones became extremely conspicuous targets at this moment. As long as someone cut them in the middle, the last channel connecting the clone and the main body would be disconnected without a doubt.

As Yang Yuhuan supported herself on the floor with her hands, indicating to Van Gogh that she was no longer seriously injured, Van Gogh stood up and walked forward. For the first time, the sunflower brush that she was supposed to use appeared in her hand.

As expected, the rotating petals entered the saw mode, and the sound of high-speed rotation made Van Gogh stop.

She knew very well that if she hesitated, it would cause unnecessary harm to Duanmu Ye, but Van Gogh had the same feelings as Yang Yuhuan. No matter what the reason, she was unwilling to hurt Duanmu Ye, the first person who was willing to accept her.

But precisely because she knew that doing so would hurt him, Van Gogh's expression gradually became firm. She no longer hesitated, strode forward, and even started running after taking a few steps.

At this moment, Van Gogh knew that if he did not do it, or even hesitated to do it, the harm to Duanmu Ye would be far more serious than the one-time consequences.

She didn't want to be a burden behind Duanmu Ye, so even if it was something that would make her uncomfortable for a while, Van Gogh didn't hesitate at all. She closed her eyes and didn't look at the tragic scene in front of her. She rushed forward with all her might until she felt some resistance from the pen she was holding and heard the sound of sawing some soft tissue and bones from the front of her. Van Gogh didn't want to stop at all.

Her body kept shaking as she ran. Although the resistance from the front slowed her movements down a lot, it only took her a few seconds to cut off ten tentacles that were not very thick.

Without the resistance in front of him, Van Gogh fell to the ground as if exhausted, gasping for breath with his head tilted back.

“Well done Van Gogh!”

Looking at Van Gogh who fell heavily to the ground not far away, Duanmu Ye endured the pain in his hands and put his hands with broken fingers into the pockets on both sides, trying his best to make his tone calm as he encouraged Van Gogh.

But his sight was always following the falling copy of Byager. He witnessed with his own eyes that after it escaped from his control, the power of Cthugha continued to burn his whole body. While burning the consciousness that Hilt might be covering, it turned into a rapidly falling fireball and attacked the deep pit below without any hindrance.

However, the moment he realized that the consciousness coverage was ineffective, Hitler's body reacted immediately. Heads appeared on the columnar tentacles that emerged again and again, and their jaws were opened to an almost unreasonable and exaggerated degree, trying again and again to swallow the burning fireball.

Although the flames of Cthugha are not as easy to extinguish as ordinary flames, as an opponent that is also a creation of Cthulhu, especially when it is fighting with all its strength against the wind from "Hastur", this fireball, which has been separated from the logistical support, seems to have run out of fuel.

Duanmu Ye frowned as he witnessed this moment, and Yang Yuhuan, who also felt the magic power injected into "Duanmu Ye's" body returning to her own body, stood up and staggered to the edge where Duanmu Ye was.

At this moment, the only way to complete the plan was to replenish that magic power, and the only feasible method was for her to go down personally, because at the current height and speed, relying solely on the Maid of Fire was too late...

Duanmu Ye grabbed Yang Yuhuan's wrist and shook his head gently, but just as Yang Yuhuan chuckled and wanted to remind Duanmu Ye that there was no other way and make a farewell speech, she saw Duanmu Ye looking to the back on the other side.

Van Gogh, who had fallen earlier, buried his entire body behind the drawing board, his arms dancing at high speed as if he was concentrating on painting something.

Soon, Yang Yuhuan heard Duanmu Ye's helpless chuckle coming from below.

"I never thought... I would forget Van Gogh's abilities..."

Yang Yuhuan looked puzzled, but only Duanmu Ye understood that in the context of the Cthulhu mythology, this kind of amnesia without any premise was precisely the beginning of all disasters...

Biwa, Flame, Sun: Chapter 65: Tokyo's New Sun

The continuously falling fireballs were like a line of fire leading to the ground, dividing the pitch-black darkness and breaking through the sight that made it almost impossible to see the picture clearly.

However, after being swallowed again and again, even such a fiercely burning fireball would dim, and the flickering light, which seemed to be the only light between heaven and earth at this moment, also became dim under such obstruction.

Is this the end?

If there were still living people on this land, they would all have the same question in mind when they saw such a scene.

Of course, there are no ifs and buts. Just like this land that gave rise to the atrocities of the expedition did not leave any traces of "buildings" in the previous explosion, for a long time to come, there will be no possibility of recovery here, where the prosperity of Tokyo should have been built.

At this moment, the container containing the "artificial sun" that fell as expected was extinguishing at a speed visible to the naked eye. Hitler's plan to use the power of Cthugha to annihilate it could not have failed to be noticed. Even though he and his body were two entities, their wills and thoughts were synchronized the moment they were connected.

Each black tentacle that emerged turned into ashes and scattered in the wind after swallowing the fireball wrapped in Cthugha's flames. In just a dozen seconds, those tentacles with human faces on them that were devouring had experienced hundreds of successive attacks.

And the flame that symbolizes "hope" has gradually extinguished, dimmed, and even stopped shining under such continuous efforts.

In that instant, the tentacles that shot up into the sky from below once again engulfed the dim spark, but this time, no flame broke through the layer of dark tentacles. It disappeared into the darkness and fell into silence.

The sound seemed to be wiped out from the world at this moment. Whether it was the black tornado gradually forming due to the howling wind, or the karmic fire burning the surrounding hills and vegetation, they all disappeared without a trace when the shining Mars was completely swallowed by the darkness.

Without having the chance to declare his victory, Hitler, who was standing above the clouds and felt that he had become the "Giant of the Times", slowly turned his head and looked at the clouds below.

His vision was blocked by the thick mist. He could not see his own body or his future. Hitler's face gradually turned from confused to pale. He gradually realized that something was changing and there was no room for struggle left.

It was a creation with no room for maneuver, like an active volcano gradually awakening from its slumber. It looked unresponsive, but earth-shaking changes had already taken place inside.

Hitler's face was gloomy at this moment. He did not think that his spiritual base had expanded to this extent, and that anything could threaten him.