Chapter 692: Stand-In Users Are Mutually Attracted

Remilia pressed her palm down, her savage gaze sweeping across, and wherever it passed, thick inner power formed linked crimson crosses that exploded upon the sea of blood.

High above, Magica, her throat gripped by another hand, struggled to pull out the Eight Trigram Furnace from her waist.

A dazzling flash of light pierced the sky just as another furious, magnificent, and utterly brilliant Super Nova Spell Card surged to engulf the heavens.

Remilia did not dodge or evade—she had anticipated it—she tossed Magica aside and effortlessly blocked the attack with a hexagram-shaped emblem shield.

“The boss’s aesthetic has gone completely off the rails,” Huai Shi hid behind the ward set by the shrine maiden, the blood-sweetened gale whipping his long hair into disarray.

“I found you a cute girl—suggest you make her part of my good sister Belobog’s harem, hahaha~~~”

The crow placed Magica on the ground, let out a sinister chuckle, and vanished.

Huai Shi had just woken up Tong Ji, who had been sleeping her “beauty sleep” these past two days; the wicked woman was forced to work, piercing through the red mist to fly up into the sky and immediately returned to the Book of Fate.

The mist was thick, nearly enveloping the entire Gensokyo; from ultra-high altitude, the ground was invisible, but the mist’s density was uneven, as if tracing some hidden pattern.

The pattern extended from a single point into several fibrous strands, as if wrapping the entire Gensokyo like angelic wings.

“It’s definitely Su Lin’s influence, nothing to do with this Taoist!” Meng Qi hid behind the Blue-Horned Cattle.

“If it were me, she’d already be singing Hallelujah,” Su Lin retorted. “What do you mean ‘Indestructible Crimson Demon Body’? That’s clearly your martial art and the Indestructible Primordial Body!”

Meng Qi grimaced like he had a toothache. “Yeah, yeah, yeah—you don’t know martial arts? Who’s always saying the mortal world is filthy?”

“Elder Ones,” Song Shu planted his long blade on the ground, gripping the hilt with both hands as his body swayed with the wind. “What exactly did you two do?”

This is so ugly, Elder Ones—your followers and disciples will cry! If it were me, seeing you two blaming each other like this, my faith would collapse immediately, wouldn’t it?

Song Shu suddenly noticed the two had stopped arguing and were staring at him.

He gave a bitter smile. “I get it—it’s just reading faces.”

Shhh—!

A spiraling light pierced the ward; under the uncontrolled surge of the blood ocean, waves rose and fell, sweeping Song Shu directly away into the distance.

“Shuhang died again! This is inhuman!”

Kleen’s expression shifted from unbearable anguish to calm. “Good thing I’m still human.”

He snapped his fingers, using transference to link the incoming blood ocean with the area beyond the ward, creating a cycle, then reversed time back to the moment Song Shu was swept away.

Sandy the squirrel shook off the red liquid clinging to her fur, then reflexively leapt onto Kleen.

“Your humanity’s been overdoing it lately,” Su Lin called toward Ling Meng, who lay flat on the ground. “Can’t you, as a shrine maiden, do something useful?!”

Ling Meng merely glanced at him, then lay face-down, eyes vacant, pretending to be dead.

Kaguya pointed to the crimson energy spear that had originally pierced Song Shu. “So what exactly did you two do?”

“We donated blood,” Su Lin turned his head away. “Probably, maybe, those two little vampires drank our blood.”

“It was blood donation—doing good deeds in exchange for lodging and meals,” Meng Qi corrected. “But we never imagined the reason the Human Village’s blood bank ran dry was because someone was selling off the stock…”

You let vampires who enhance themselves by drinking blood consume the blood of the Three Pure Ones and God?!

Lu Mingfei’s expression was dazed; all he wanted to say to these two gods was: I give up.

“If you hadn’t spent all the money, would the only two normal people among us have gone to donate blood?”

Su Lin glanced at Lu Mingfei, frowning. “But that doesn’t make sense—the mystical connection should’ve been severed. Xiao Su, what do you think?”

“I’m just flesh and blood now; by normal logic, this shouldn’t happen,” Meng Qi nodded. “Da Su, I think something’s fishy here.”

Are you two war criminals playing detective Di Renjie or Song Dynasty Chief Justice here?!

Lu Mingfei finally understood—these two had realized they both had some unshakable trace of each other’s essence, so they were putting on this act.

“Are you Type A and Type B blood?”

“I’m Type B.”

“I’m Type A.”

As Su Lin and Meng Qi answered, shadows appeared behind them—it was Reisen, raising her inflated Yin-Yang Jade high above her head.

“Origin of the anomaly! If I subdue you, I can return to my shrine!”

“Stop, Ling Meng! The red mist won’t vanish, and Remilia and Flandre still need their blood for treatment!”

Magica hugged Ling Meng from behind to stop her.

“Treatment?”

“Remilia’s been having sleep cycle disruptions and loss of appetite.”

Magica briefly recounted what she’d encountered that afternoon when visiting the Red Mansion to borrow books, then searching the Human Village for blood, and finally arriving at the Hakurei Shrine.

“Ling Meng and I originally planned to enter the Red Mansion to find Patchouli, but something like a ward surrounded the mansion.”

“Then Remilia suddenly appeared—she didn’t recognize anyone, and didn’t use spell cards at all.”

“Her demeanor… something felt off.”

Off?

Indeed, it was odd—the source of the red mist fibers was at the edge of the Mist Lake; as long as you didn’t enter that area, she wouldn’t attack.

Sometimes she’d suddenly freeze, standing motionless, staring blankly.

Remilia unfurled wings wider than her height, her demeanor haughty: “The Phantom Red Mansion awakens! Five hundred years of glory—fated karma returns to me after a thousand years!”

Hmm, she also randomly recites strange phrases.

“To be fair, this is definitely inherited from you,” Kleen observed. “As for martial arts, that’s clearly inherited from Meng Qi.”

Su Lin: “Watch your wording—you can say ‘influence,’ you idiot Astarte.”

Meng Qi: “Exactly—all the influence is mine alone, blind Astarte!”

Their faces turned slightly green, their gazes fixed on Kleen like daggers—they wanted to immediately launch a life-or-death Dark Spell Card duel.

There was no help—people around them were already covering their mouths, barely holding back laughter.

“It’s the Fool, not Astarte.”

As Kleen reached out to pat Sandy’s head, she immediately leapt onto Himeari, who was protected by Lu Mingfei. “Right now, the priority is entering the Red Mansion to check on the others.”

“I must maintain the great ward to limit Remilia’s destructive power, but now she’s somehow reversing her influence on my spellcasting—I can’t act freely,” Ling Meng said.

The great ward itself was stable and not fragile, but if it slackened even slightly, the principles of the Human World and certain regions would be affected—ordinary humans and weak yokai had no way to protect themselves.

That was also why Ling Meng had been lying on the ground all along without fighting Remilia.

“Leave Remilia to me and Ling Meng—we’ll hold her off,” Magica flipped onto her broom, regaining her composure. “We don’t have time to waste.”

“We need a guide—you must come with us, and Miss Ling Meng must stay behind,” Kleen shook his head.

“Then who will hold off Remilia without spell cards?”

Remilia herself possesses immense power, ranking among the top in Gensokyo; even in this abnormal state, her aggression is extreme, not to mention her new abilities.

“I will.” Lu Mingfei spoke calmly. “You all go inside. Lao Zhou, watch over the others—you’re the only one even slightly reliable right now.”

“.” Song Shu, just waking up, felt this man’s aesthetic had changed too.

But he didn’t complain—only glanced at Himeari near Lu Mingfei, a sudden insight flashing through his mind.

As expected, Lu Mingfei’s words became a turning point—the atmosphere grew slightly more serious; everyone shed their previous frivolity.

“A true man becomes strong for others. Merely watching changes nothing—determinedly holding your ground is what makes a hero,” Su Lin clapped Lu Mingfei on the shoulder.

“It’s from the theme song of Neon Genesis Evangelion,” Lu Mingfei sighed, brushing his hand away, gazing at Remilia seated on the crimson throne.

“I’ll create an opening for you.”

He walked toward the blood mist beyond the ward, the surroundings hazy, yet the figure beneath the blood moon crystal clear.

Remilia slowly raised her right hand; a blood-red spear emerged from the magical array and aimed directly at Lu Mingfei.

“Be careful—she has the ability to manipulate fate, and it seems stronger than before,” Ling Meng warned.

“Fate? How unfortunate.”

Golden light slowly filled his pupils; as Lu Mingfei took half a step forward, his spiritual sense showed a vision: fate threads tightly binding his body, dragging him toward the blood sea.

“I’m not good at much, but fighting fate—this has defined every stage of my life.”

“I used to lose more than I won.”

“But today, I won’t let it have its way.”

The illusory world, like a mirror stretching from heaven to earth, shattered across his face—only his golden eyes remained, reflecting crimson; his five fingers opened, then slowly closed, as if grasping power and authority.

Crackling!

At the moment the mirror shattered, a man riding an eight-legged steed, clad in thunder and golden flame, charged across the boundary between reality and illusion, snapping the fate threads.

The World Tree, towering over the blood sea, covered the entire sky, reenacting the age of Ragnarök.

“Guaranteed Hit!”

“Divine Spear!”

Purple-black light and crimson meteorites flew simultaneously from their masters’ hands; at the fork of fate, the two Gungnirs collided, sparks flying—then, unstoppable beams of light pierced through sky and earth.

The ward’s power compressed the space inch by inch, as if trying to crush and imprison everything.

Yet within this light, enormous dragon wings began to unfold…

The underground library of the Red Mansion

The purple-haired witch stood beside a candlestick, wearing a robe, glancing at the red liquid in the test tube.

“No issues detected—no curse energy. Then why has her spiritual power vanished from her body and reappeared outside as a new entity?”

“It’s all my fault,” Sakuya clenched her fists in guilt. “If the blood I bought hadn’t been tainted, the mistress wouldn’t be like this!”

“I think it’s not the blood’s fault—don’t blame yourself so much,” Patchouli comforted her.

In the center of the ritual array, on a soft bed, Remilia with blue shoulder-length curls slept soundly—then suddenly, she frowned, eyes fluttering open drowsily.

“Sakuya, what happened to me?”

Before an answer came, she rolled over, closing her heavy eyelids: “Never mind—I’ll deal with it tomorrow. So sleepy… what a nice dream…”

“Don’t let anyone disturb… me… disturb me.”

She had a dream, in which she found a way to become more dignified.

Though she didn’t quite understand martial arts, spells, or poetic mottos, a voice told her this would make her seem more dignified, more mature, and wash away the shame of her last failed anomaly.

Then just use it.

Use fate as the medium.

“My lady Patchouli, is there no way to awaken Miss Flandre?”

“We haven’t found a way yet—her condition is completely different from Flandre’s, cough cough.”

Patchouli coughed lightly several times.

Satsuki fell silent for a moment, picked up a nearby test tube, pulled out the stopper, and drank the blood inside—the witch beside her didn’t even have time to stop her.

“If there are issues, please conduct your experiments using my bodily data.”

The Red Manor is a vast estate of considerable scale.

Before the house lies a garden, with a pond at its center, distinctly European in style.

A red-haired girl in a green qipao lay asleep on her arms inside a pavilion beside the iron gate of the outer wall.

“What’s wrong?” Meng Qi noticed Su Lin had stopped walking, motionless.

“Something feels odd.”

The Azure Celestial Form faintly appeared behind Su Lin; he stared ahead, and an indescribable ripple passed through him just then.

“What’s that humanoid shape behind you? A shikigami? A familiar?” Marisa asked, curious.

“The name’s not ‘Celestial Form’—it’s actually called a Stand, like Digital Monster.”

Su Lin said: “In short, it’s a materialized form of spiritual power—mine’s just a bit special.”

Passing the sleeping guard, the group walked toward the owner’s house.

The path wasn’t exactly clear—it was more like they saw not a single soul.

“Strange, where did all the fairy maids go?” Marisa looked around: “Uh… did we take a wrong turn…?”

“Aren’t you here often?”

“I come often, yes—but I rarely use the front gate.”

Forgot this guy’s a thief.

Just as Su Lin was about to speak, the Azure Celestial Form reappeared behind him; this time, he clearly sensed that peculiar ripple.

“I get it. So this is how it is! This is the situation!”

Along with the Azure Celestial Form, the lines of his face grew sharper, his aura turned domineering, and his gaze flicked toward a corner of the corridor.

“What have you figured out, Senior Su Lin?” Song Shu asked.

He hadn’t finished speaking.

In an instant, countless silver daggers filled the space before, behind, to the sides, and above—raining down like a storm, brushing against every millimeter of skin.

Song Shu: “?”

The daggers were instantly deflected, but Kleine was puzzled—because during the time-stop, no life had appeared in his vision or perception.

Su Lin over there… seems to know something.

Where did Su Lin go?

Only then did they realize Su Lin had vanished—before them in the corridor stood a maid holding a silver dagger between her fingers, and behind her, an invisible silhouette bulged, even warping space.

“Satsuki!”

“Has it begun to awaken? The Joestar bloodline!”

A magnetic voice echoed from above the grand staircase.

As if sensing something, Satsuki lifted her head.

Two spectral shadows shot from their masters’ positions, meeting above the crowd—fists clashed, unleashing gales of wind.

“Are these the same type of Stand?”

“No… it seems they inherited my bloodline!”

A golden-haired man in a tight-fitting suit, his muscles like blocks of marble, descended slowly; his gaze passed over the crowd and fixed on Satsuki’s hollow eyes.

“Did they inherit even the strongest Stand—[The World]?!”

At that moment, the two spectral shadows solidified; amid the clashing fists, one after the other, they transformed into two towering figures clad in golden armor.

“I must’ve taken a wrong turn,” Huai Shi rubbed his eyes: “How did I end up at Haruki’s place…?”

“Haruki’s Fantasy Land? Makes sense,” Kleine said flatly. “Get used to it.”

“Who’s that man? And what happened to Satsuki?” Marisa asked, bewildered.

Meng Qi: “...”

“A wild Dark Emperor,” Song Shu glanced at Satsuki and couldn’t help saying:

“A Stand user drawn here.”

(End of Chapter)