The only thing Sū ěr could be certain of was that Amaterasu had not chosen to give up. Born of this world and lacking external divine power, she had no way to leave. Judging by the skeletons of the gods drifting in the false stars, Amaterasu—who had sacrificed everything to reach this point—was incredibly cruel, obsessed, and ruthless.
When such a being is wounded, they don't choose flight or surrender. They shed their last inhibitions and stop at nothing.
So, for an Amaterasu driven mad by failure and pain, what was left to sacrifice after the gods of Takamagahara were gone?
The answer manifested in Sū ěr mind like a premonition.
Knowing nothing of the external universe, Amaterasu didn't know that Jibril shrinking meant a loss of power, nor did she know what Elementals were. But even if she did, she would only see it as a trap.
When you know a trap exists and the enemy wants you to step on it, the best way is not to dismantle it, but to step outside the enemy's plan and let them fall into their own trap. Never follow someone else's rhythm—Amaterasu understood this well.
Her meticulously crafted plan had been shattered by these outsiders, so she simply jumped to the final step.
There was still hope—as long as she killed these meddlers, she would remain the strongest god in this world.
Staring fixedly at that man's face, Amaterasu repeated those words to herself. Her body was falling. If glares could deal physical damage, Sū ěr body would have been scorched to nothing.
She was close. Close enough that even the "precious property"—the ordinary mortals—could see a silver speck moving in the sky with their naked eyes. Amaterasu was above Ashihara no Nakatsukuni, yet she was at its very center.
The sky and land were now equidistant.
In the place where the Kingdom of Yamato once stood, only a few years had passed, yet it was already overgrown and derelict. Wild grass completely covered the low, dilapidated houses, and continuous rain had formed a small lake in the city center.
With the fall of the Heavenly Grandson, the Oni—finally free to tread the surface—had long since left the Yamato underground. The remaining humans had been pillaged by the Izumo Kingdom. Only weak little yōkai remained, along with some Oni who refused to leave the deepest depths.
But at this moment, they all opened their eyes in shock, either grabbing something sturdy or simply prostrating themselves on the ground. Some quick-witted ones ran frantically toward the deep pit where the Tensun once resided. The light pouring from the massive hole Sū ěr had punched through the ceiling illuminated the depths.
In the place that should have been buried in dirt, where only illusions should have remained, things now seemed to possess real bodies. The parched, hardened earth was churning as if massive earthworms were writhing beneath.
They broke through the soil.
Like a black vine growing at extreme speed, it transformed in a few breaths into a massive tree piercing the clouds. Countless thread-like black shadows intertwined, stabbing straight up from below into the back of the falling Amaterasu!
The earth trembled. Not just in one part of Ashihara no Nakatsukuni, but the entire land vibrated. The laws of physics seemed unable to maintain the world's stability. Under the shocked gazes of countless lives, cups and bowls on tables, as well as stones and clumps of dirt, began to fly toward the sky.
Before they could find the cause of this anomaly, they themselves began to fly upward—or more accurately, to float.
In Yakumo Yukari fortress, small yōkai floated beside large ones without using an ounce of demonic power, as if floating was a new rule of the world itself. Soon, even the massive yōkai were hovering.
Many lighthearted yōkai felt no sense of crisis; instead, they paddled their paws curiously, playing with each other. "You poke me, I poke you." However, Yakumo Yukari, witnessing this, had no expression of relief. Instead, she stared heavily at the ground beneath her, then at the black tree reaching for the sky and the "falling star" impaled by it.
In this seemingly humorous refuge, blood was inevitable. Especially in this apocalyptic scene where the world seemed to be ending, the nature of the yōkai race brought far more chaos and slaughter than Yukari had anticipated.
Seeing a green-haired figure weaving through the city—every punch sending a yōkai who tried to take advantage of the chaos flying in a spray of blood—Yukari felt fortunate she had the foresight to pay a high price for that person's help.
"What is going to happen... to this world?" Yukari sighed with worry, looking out at the world in chaos. She could hear the howls and clamor in her ears, and for the first time, a look of lost uncertainty appeared in her eyes.
—In the face of such power, what use was gathering more yōkai?
Yukari did not have the answer.
What would happen to this world—that was a good question.
Because Sū ěr himself didn't know, or rather, there was only one person who did: Amaterasu, the one who had triggered this transformation.
From this vantage point where one could overlook everything, Sū ěr, Think, and Jibril could see every change.
Just as that shadow-tree—now clearly visible from the heights—sprouted its first tips, the Tensun, who had been there since Sū ěr entered Takamagahara, began to struggle violently.
Yes, he was still alive. Even through Amaterasu awakening and her battle with Sū ěr, even now as Takamagahara and the entire world were breaking apart, he was still alive. The ocean of flesh Amaterasu had summoned had strangely bypassed him, but Sū ěr believed this was definitely not a good thing.
If he could, Sū ěr believed this Heavenly Grandson —who had committed countless sins—would rather sleep forever than endure such agony.