Chapter 89: Magic Cannon—!
By the time everyone had scrambled back to their senses, it was already too late.
The Stooped Old Man had slid completely down the monster's grotesquely twisted neck, finally disappearing into its abdomen. The creature's belly immediately swelled, bloating high and tight as if it were ten months pregnant. Its distorted human face began to warp and stretch unnaturally, the clear tears that had fallen just moments ago now stained a visceral blood-red.
Yotsuya Miko acted on pure instinct. Snatching the half-broken iron nail from the ground, she lunged forward and stabbed it into the monster's head with all her might. But this time, instead of piercing flesh, the nail was slowly repelled by an invisible force before clattering uselessly to the floor.
Despair crashed over them like a tidal wave.
Every sliver of hope they had clung to was shattered. A moment ago, they had a slim, desperate chance against the False God. But now that the two had merged into one grotesque entity, there was no way out. This was a dead end.
Slaying a god?
The thought was so audacious they didn't even dare to entertain it.
Just then, flesh churned and bubbled at the juncture of the False God's shoulder and neck. With a wet, tearing sound, a second head burst forth—the face of the Stooped Old Man.
His eyes were bloodshot, gleaming with a manic excitement. When he spoke, his voice was a horrifying amalgam of his original hoarseness and the Lady of the Castle's piercing shrillness.
"Do you see?! This is true transformation! Using the fear of a thousand souls as medicine and the regrets of a beloved as the catalyst, I have merged with her completely! I have you to thank for this... for pushing me to this point, for forcing me to resolve to break free from this mortal shell!"
Both heads spoke in a discordant, layered unison, "Now, I am the newly born god!"
"God?"
Haruto's disdainful voice cut through the tension.
"Don't flatter yourself. You're a patchwork knockoff, a cheap imitation pieced together from scraps. Calling yourself a god? You're more like a lunatic who's lost his mind."
Kaguya flicked her sleeves, producing a bluish-purple talisman card and nodding in smug agreement. "Exactly. You don't even possess a divine spark. You're probably worse than a counterfeit. I bet you couldn't even beat Tewi."
Seeing the two of them still joking around, maintaining their playful banter at such a critical moment, the others felt their frayed nerves miraculously steady. The despair that had clouded their hearts began to dissipate.
"Haruto-san, can you defeat him?" Yotsuya Miko asked, her voice cautious but hopeful.
"No." Haruto shook his head bluntly.
Kaguya shrugged, her tone laced with theatrical exasperation. "If Haruto could just be a little more reliable and let me use my full power, just ten minutes—no, five minutes would be enough. I'd smash his head in myself."
"And if you were as strong as Eirin, you could break through the suppression on your own and unleash your full power without needing me at all," Haruto shot back, giving her a meaningful glance.
"If I had Eirin's strength, believe me, I'd have snatched you away right from under Yakumo Yukari and your Ran's noses," Kaguya grumbled defiantly.
Though they both claimed they couldn't win, a closer look revealed not a single trace of worry on either of their faces.
Nearby, Lin Xuelao bit her lip, her knuckles white as she clutched a small silver lock in her hand. She couldn't see their expressions clearly, but their words were unmistakable: they couldn't do it.
"I have a way."
Her quiet declaration surprised both Haruto and Kaguya, who turned to look at her. They had just been debating whose talisman card to use to end the farce.
"This is an item left to me by a senior," she explained, her voice trembling slightly. "She was an Onmyoji and modified this tool herself. It's like a lock... it uses oneself as the shackle to bind ghosts, youkai, gods... anything."
"Let me see." Haruto's interest was piqued. He took the silver lock from her and examined it. He immediately noticed it was engraved with Sealing Techniques of a remarkably high grade, second only to something like Reimu's Fantasy Seal.
The others were overjoyed to hear there was a solution, but their joy quickly faded as the implication of her words sank in. They stared at Lin Xuelao, their expressions a complex mix of hope and concern.
"Are you sure?" Haruto asked, his tone serious. "Aren't you afraid of death?"
"I'm sure," Lin Xuelao replied, neatly avoiding the second question.
Even as she said it, her body trembled. As if steeling her resolve, she emptied her pockets, laying out their contents on the ground. "These are the items I've collected, and the tools everyone left for me."
Among the scattered trinkets lay the two talisman cards Haruto had given her earlier.
"It will hurt," he said softly.
"I don't feel pain." Lin Xuelao lowered her gaze, a faint, sad smile gracing her lips. "In my condition, it's impossible to survive in this world anyway. Even if I make it through this instance, I won't last long. I have no family, no friends... no reason to live. I don't want to be a burden or hold anyone back again."
She took back the silver lock. With a single thought, it began to emit a low, whirring sound. Its glow intensified as her own body started to grow faint and ethereal.
She had promised Haruto back then. If she ever felt indebted to him, she only needed to shield him from danger once. And now was the perfect time.
"I've decided."
A warm hand suddenly pressed down over hers, covering both her fingers and the silver lock. "From now on, you're mine," the youth's voice was firm, yet gentle. "If you don't know what to live for, then live for me. Live for the promise I'm giving you—that I will restore your sight."
"Boundary of Past and Present—"
A gentle power spread from his palm, quickly enveloping her entire body. The ethereal light around her flickered, then reversed, solidifying her form as the lock's activation was forcibly undone.
Lin Xuelao's eyes fluttered open, her silver-white pupils fixed on Haruto. She bit her lip so hard it nearly drew blood, her shoulders trembling uncontrollably as two clear tears escaped and traced paths down her cheeks.
Why? she thought, her heart aching. Why, just when I had finally decided, just when I had finally found my resolve?
After confirming the silver lock had returned to its inert state, Haruto withdrew his hand. He then took out a talisman card that pulsed with a golden, flowing light. The card's surface was deceptively simple, bearing no ornamentation, a clear reflection of its maker's dislike for troublesome aesthetics.
"Help me hold him for two seconds."
Though Kaguya didn't understand his plan, she didn't hesitate. She mobilized the maximum power she could currently wield and unleashed the ability of Eternity and the Instantaneous against the so-called Pseudo-God.
Time seemed to warp around the monstrous being.
Haruto reached a hand into a newly opened Gap. When he pulled it out, he was holding a pure white umbrella handle. He slowly drew out a parasol. The canopy was a pristine, snowy white, its edges trimmed with exquisite lace.
The others recognized it as the parasol Haruto had used on the first night, but they couldn't fathom his intentions. Only Kaguya's expression shifted dramatically, a look of dawning horror on her face as she began to back away.
"You're not going to use that Tyrant's talisman card, are you?!" she shouted, her voice shrill with alarm. "Didn't you say she never made any talisman cards before?!"
"She didn't before," Haruto explained calmly, "but that was because I never asked. Once I did, didn't she specially prepare a few for me?"
As he spoke, he affixed the golden talisman card to the parasol's surface. A pale green demonic power immediately erupted from the card, wrapping around the parasol like twisting vines. The energy flowed, converging toward the tip, compressing... compressing... and compressing further still. Kaguya had already scrambled back to the far wall, putting as much distance between them as she possibly could.
Seeing this, the others, though confused, weren't stupid. Her obvious fear of being caught in the crossfire was all the warning they needed. They immediately followed her lead, retreating as far as they could.
The torrent of green demonic power finally converged into a single, infinitesimally small point at the very tip of the parasol. All of this had happened in just two seconds.
Haruto slowly raised the parasol, aiming it at the immobilized and terrified Pseudo-God. A wicked grin spread across his face.
"Magic Cannon—!"
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