Surrender—generally means, when the tide of war becomes clear, voluntarily abandoning resistance, laying down weapons, yielding to the opponent, and actively defecting to the opposite camp. As the saying goes, "A true warrior prefers death over disgrace," so the act of surrender is always despised.
Altair and the others absolutely did not expect… such a shameful word could actually be uttered by their enemy, nearly making them choke on their breath after having prepared themselves for an epic confrontation.
It was like being invited to a prestigious race. You warm up fully, entering a hundred-and-twenty-percent state, ready to show off your skills—but the moment the starting pistol fires, you take just one step and immediately plunge into a hidden water pool, only to realize at that instant… this isn't some racing contest but a damn prank show!
Come on, are you kidding me?
Take a look at the three who stood before you—each one ruthless enough to kill gods or buddhas who block their path. Even Altair couldn't confidently defeat them alone. Reluctantly, they had to leave behind Selesia, Mamika, and Mirokuji, who'd been transformed by Van Gogh, to hold the line while the rest moved forward.
Then you, the final guardian, didn't even put up a fight and just surrendered? Where's your face? Your dignity? Are you doing justice to the efforts of the three guardians who came before you? Even more importantly… your immediate surrender makes us, who've been mentally preparing for this showdown, look unbelievably stupid, you know?!
Kanoya Rui couldn't comprehend it at all—he'd clearly surrendered, so why was the killing intent in these people's eyes suddenly growing even stronger?
Suddenly, Meteora seemed to realize something and shouted urgently to everyone around:
"Everyone! Don't be fooled! Van Gogh reminded us repeatedly that apart from sheer power, the Outer God's most terrifying aspects are its strangeness and cunning. Don't forget Alicetaria and Charon-san, who we just encountered earlier! They looked perfectly capable of communication, but their minds were already corrupted by madness! The Kanoya before us is definitely the same, trying to deceive us with words!"
Meteora's reminder brought Altair and the others back to reality.
Right, compared to its overwhelming strength, the Outer God's cunning and bizarre nature were far more insidious. How could they forget, having just faced the precedents set by Charon and Alicetaria?
Thus, Altair and the others decided not to hesitate any longer, resolving that whatever nonsense Kanoya Rui intended to spout next, they would not stop their assault.
"Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait! I really surrendered! I'm not lying!" Kanoya panicked completely. He genuinely feared being beaten to death by the group in front of him. Although, blessed by the Outer God, his chance of victory was actually decent—provided Van Gogh didn't interfere—but he didn't want to fight Van Gogh and the others!
"Van Gogh! Van Gogh-san! Hurry up and explain to them! I'm really a good guy, I'm on your side!"
Altair and the rest trusted Van Gogh deeply. Compared to their own thoughts, they were more inclined to trust Van Gogh—none of them could be certain they'd resist the Outer God's whispers and seductions. Only Van Gogh could. Van Gogh was their sole hope to defeat the Outer God.
But they hadn't expected that Kanoya Rui, who should have been fully converted into the Outer God's follower, would call out to Van Gogh at this moment, asking her to prove his innocence.
Everyone's gaze immediately turned to Van Gogh, clearly questioning her—Is this also your arrangement?
"Ehehe… Kanoya can be trusted… because Van Gogh left a small fragment of her power within him… Therefore, he can resist the Outer God's whispers… Fufu… I'm glad to see you're still alright, Kanoya."
"If you waited a bit longer to speak up, you might not have seen the alright me ever again! Or were you planning to watch me die again?!"
Kanoya Rui stared at Van Gogh, resentment heavy in his gaze.
"Kanoya, you received the Outer God's blessing too, didn't you…? So… you wouldn't have died…"
"That might be true, but still…"
Not dying was one thing, but that didn't mean he enjoyed being framed and pummeled mercilessly.
At this moment, Van Gogh's presence suddenly changed completely, as if someone else had taken over her body. In her deep, azure eyes, it seemed one could see the vicissitudes of the ages. Her usual smiling expression disappeared, replaced by an unsettling calm.
"This world has always been cruel; it never promises endless sunny days. Yet people still kindle candles within the deepest shadows. I've watched my patients gather under the sunlight, making shadows of kittens and rabbits with their own bodies. I've seen people sew buttons into smiling faces. Once, when I treated a child with severe burns, he suddenly mentioned a harmonica tune he'd learned before hospitalization. In my faded memories, someone once said, 'Happiness is a luxury best shared.' Then I realized—the essence of happiness lies in finding an inner sanctuary during the storm. It's not about flawless perfection, but the courage to let new buds sprout from wounds."
This was the first time Van Gogh had spoken so fluently, clearly delivering such a complicated thought in front of everyone. But the changes didn't stop there: Her gaze became deep and piercing, as if capable of perceiving all things in existence. When you met those eyes, it felt as though your very soul was laid bare. Though her aura wasn't particularly overwhelming, it nonetheless made one feel inexplicably subdued.
Her manner was steady, speech neither too fast nor too slow, clear and organized. She radiated confidence and calmness, effortlessly exuding a composed and restrained presence.
But this state didn't last long. In the blink of an eye, that familiar timid, self-loathing smile appeared once again on Van Gogh's face.
"Van Gogh… just wanted everyone… to relax a bit, cheer up a little… because everyone's mental tension is too high… The Outer God's strange power feeds on our fears, so… those who can't overcome even their inner fears… can't possibly grasp the final ray of hope…"
"Van Gogh hopes… using Doctor Kal'tsit's words, to help everyone find courage… Only the sailors adept at finding joy in hardship, or fools ignorant of despair… can sail through seas shrouded by storms… and reach the stars at journey's end… Van Gogh just wanted everyone to smile at this last moment… ehehe… making everyone 'happy' with Kal'tsit's words… hehe… Van Gogh joke…"
Van Gogh explained herself, and everyone gradually understood her intentions.
But that didn't mean Kanoya Rui's resentment vanished entirely.
"There were plenty of ways to ease everyone's tension, so why did it have to be at my expense?"
"Ehehe… Van Gogh just felt… everyone needed an outlet to release their fears. Maybe… after a brief fight with Kanoya… they might realize the Outer God's power… isn't actually so terrifying… Even if it's just a flickering flame of doubt… it could still grant us a higher chance of victory…"
Narrowing her eyes slightly, Van Gogh smiled softly at Kanoya. "Moreover… to be honest, just now, Van Gogh wasn't fully sure you were still 'Kanoya Rui'… Van Gogh was worried… that the Outer God's power had completely overwritten the energy she left within you…"
Kanoya stared silently at Van Gogh's smiling face for a long moment, finally folding his arms grumpily across his chest and muttering:
"And now?"
"Confirmed… Welcome back, Kanoya."
Indeed, Kanoya Rui had been captured by Shimazaki Yuna and received the Outer God's blessings like Charon, Alicetaria, and Hakua Shō. However, Kanoya differed in one key way—due to a previous accident, Van Gogh had left a tiny hidden safeguard within him.
Back then, in a small alley, Kanoya had stumbled upon Van Gogh (disguised as Shimazaki Yuna) and witnessed monsters obediently surrounding her. Mistakenly assuming Van Gogh was controlling them, Kanoya was nearly devoured by these creatures, which were actually summoned by Yuna.
At the critical moment, Van Gogh saved him, healing his body and telling him nearly everything about her true identity and their current predicament…
"You knew the truth months ago and deliberately hid it?!"
"You can't blame me! Van Gogh asked me to keep it secret… it was torture, acting completely clueless around everyone!"
"Could the Outer God really be tricked so easily?" Meteora wondered aloud.
Van Gogh gently smiled, mysteriously whispering, "The Outer God never truly looks upon anyone except Yuna. Even a brief glimpse would shatter their minds into fireworks… bright, brilliant, and fleeting…"
"Did Van Gogh-chan casually say something extremely scary just now?" Hikayu shivered nervously.
"Ehehe… Van Gogh didn't say anything… nothing at all, right?"
"Please repeat that with 100% certainty!"
...
As they continued, no further monsters appeared—as if all had vanished, or perhaps lacked qualifications to approach the sacred core.
Closer… closer now…
Altair's sense became stronger and stronger. Precisely because the moment was so close, she could clearly feel… that she was about to meet her Master.
At the end of the path, awaiting them was… a towering arrangement of colossal, slanting pillars.
Stretching endlessly beyond the limits of vision, rising high as if piercing through the heavens themselves.
These giant pillars were neither stone nor metal—they were plants. Enormous trees wrapped tightly in emerald vines, flowers blooming everywhere. Their bark was cracked open, fissures forming sinister, monstrous patterns that exuded an indescribable malevolence.
Even filtered through Van Gogh's "painting," Altair and the others still vividly sensed the disturbing presence of these giant trees.
Had they lost this protective layer of "paint," a single glance at these trees would have instantly shattered their sanity, distorted their souls, and mutated their bodies, transforming them into creatures as grotesque as those they had already slain.
"What… what in the world are those things?"
"They look… like trees? Each one standing so impossibly tall… it feels like we've entered some kind of colossal forest…"
Both Blitz Talker and Meteora gasped at the sight before them. Only standing beneath these massive trees could they truly grasp how insignificant they were.
Altair also saw the towering trees, but her focus differed greatly from Meteora's or Blitz's.
"Master!"
Shimazaki Yuna… Though still in "Van Gogh's" appearance, Altair could never mistake her. That was undoubtedly Shimazaki Yuna—her Master, her Creator.
Yuna's entire body was ensnared and deeply embedded in countless layers of twisting vines. Only her head and one hand were visible, eyes tightly shut, appearing as if in deep sleep.
"Altair! Don't rush in recklessly!"
Meteora tried to caution her, but Altair, overwhelmed by emotion, couldn't even hear her voice. She immediately summoned several sabers, fiercely slashing at the vines surrounding Yuna.
Through Altair's ferocious attacks, vines were repeatedly sliced apart. But within less than a second, those vines instantly reconnected themselves, growing even thicker and denser. Countless new vines sprouted forth ominously, whipping toward Altair like merciless lashes.
Crack!
The vine didn't strike Altair directly but instead slammed into the array of sabers surrounding her. The deafening explosion and wind pressure made their hearts clench in fear. Even as powerful as she was, Altair was knocked away by the force, her figure hurtling violently through the air before smashing brutally into the vine-covered wall. Among the sabers she'd summoned for defense, some were now visibly cracked, while others shattered completely, their fragments scattered wildly by the powerful gust.
No one dared imagine what would have happened if such a blow had landed directly on a human body. Perhaps one's flesh would instantly be torn apart into bloody shreds.
Altair stood up grimly, bones audibly creaking inside her body. She wiped blood from the corner of her mouth, her eyes burning fiercely, as though intent on reducing these towering trees to ash.
The force of that vine strike was beyond imagination—like seeing a tiny kitten leap gently toward your embrace, only to discover the moment of impact carried the power of ten fuel trucks barreling full-speed into you.
Altair's thoughts were interrupted. The sharp whistling sound of another vicious attack approached rapidly!
[The Third Movement of Cosmos: Representation Exposition]
Altair positioned the PPSH-41 submachine gun as a violin, using a saber as a bow, swiftly pulling the imaginary strings.
Instantly, an invisible ripple surged outward. The thick vine transformed into countless petals just as it was about to strike Altair.
It worked! Her ability still held effect!
Altair felt a brief surge of joy at the discovery—but just three seconds later, the transformation stopped.
In the end, only one-third of the vine became petals, while the remaining two-thirds still rapidly regenerated, swiftly regaining their full length in less than half a second and violently slashing at Altair once more.
Altair's pupils contracted sharply at the sight. This time, rather than defend, she quickly ascended, narrowly evading the devastating blow.
For the first time ever… her ability had failed.
Though not a complete failure, Altair felt her heart sink heavily. Her expression darkened significantly.
"Is it because of Master? That gigantic tree… is it absorbing Master's powers, enabling it to partially resist my abilities?"
Or could it be…
"How utterly foolish. Your meaningless bravery remains as detestable as ever. Using the power that I myself bestowed upon you—do you truly believe you can stand against me?"
Not only Altair, everyone clearly heard that voice.
It seemed to whisper directly in their ears, yet simultaneously echoed deep within their minds.
That voice—they all knew it extremely well.
That was Van Gogh's voice.
But such words… such a tone… absolutely could never belong to Van Gogh.
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T/N: i forgot what i was gonna sya honestly im dying rn im on embers translating...