終章、行走邊界之聖魔
Final Chapter: The Saint-Witch Who Walks the Border
戰爭從未真正結束，只是其形態與規則，已被那位行走於邊界的存在徹底改寫。
教會與黃前家族之間那場轟轟烈烈的聖魔大戰，隨著家族實質上的代行者結衣那融合了表層意志與冰冷邏輯的引導，逐漸轉向了更深層、更隱蔽的維度。公開的大規模靈性衝突消失了，取而代之的是一場於現世規則縫隙中無聲進行的冷和與競逐。
結衣，這位同時被雙方視為己方最珍貴戰力，也最難以預測的存在，成功地在兩個龐大靈力團體間，憑藉對自身矛盾的絕對掌控，開闢出了一片僅屬於她的，危險而狹窄的邊界之地。
她不再是單純的「聖女」，亦非純粹的「異端」。
人們開始以新的名號呼喚她——在大街小巷，孩子們會聽到老人壓低聲音說「邊境之聖女」；而在暗巷，某些靈異事件的倖存者則顫聲低語：「那個持雙劍的魔女…她看著我，像在審判，又像在憐憫。」
她的存在本身，已成一個活著的傳說。
~教會~
教會高層的態度變得極其複雜而務實。他們無法完全信任一個體內流淌著異端本源之血，且靈魂與敵方集體意識綁定的存在，但又不得不承認，正因為結衣，她奇蹟般地遏止了黃前家族最激進、最危害現世的擴張行動，為教會爭取到寶貴的喘息與重整時間。現在她與教會仍保持接觸，維持著一種心照不宣的默契。
某個黃昏，結衣來到遠離總部的偏僻聖堂。彩繪玻璃投下斑斕的光影，長老靜靜坐在長椅另一端。
「結衣，」他語氣不疾不徐，「你依然能感應聖光麼？」
結衣只是抬手，讓一縷光芒在掌心凝聚，再消散於指尖。沒有誇示，卻足以回答。
長老點點頭，忽然語氣一轉，輕描淡寫道：「不過…如今我應該稱呼你為黃前結衣，對嗎？」
空氣瞬間凝固。遠處鐘聲正好敲響，低沉的回聲像冷冽的刀刃，劃破聖堂內的靜謐。
長老手指微動，無形靈力隱隱波動，似欲與「神無月結衣」建立聯繫，又像試探「黃前結衣」底層意識的幽冥交戰；甚至有微弱的能量滲入她雙重意識的縫隙，彷彿要撕裂潛藏其中的秘密。
結衣靜靜凝視，目光深邃而平靜，彷彿經歷過數千次內部運算與系統權限校驗。一刻後，唇邊浮現一抹似有溫柔的笑意，聲音卻帶著冰冷的從容：「稱呼只是方便的標籤。若有人硬要以此分辨我究竟屬於誰——恐怕會比聖光與暗影更快迷失。」
她的語氣沒有一絲憤怒，卻像柔軟的手掌覆在刀刃之上，讓空氣中潛藏的危險被壓制得緊緊的；同時，那股無形威脅像微光般閃過，暗示她隨時能將冷光化作實質的決斷。
長老額間微冒冷汗，注視著她，雙眼深邃複雜。他感受到那股來自少女的微弱但清晰的壓力。他輕歎，聲音帶著疲憊與佩服：「教會的大門永遠為你敞開。但妳也明白，我們無法將你放在核心。」
結衣並不爭辯，只行了一個標準的禮。她轉身離去，背影筆直而安靜。那份冷漠的溫柔中，仿佛暗示著：若真要劃破這層平衡，她不會是被動的一方。
聖堂內的光影微微晃動，彩繪玻璃透出的光線如同被無形手指撥動的紋理，微弱電弧聲在空氣中回蕩。長老深吸一口氣，手指仍在十字架上微微顫抖。他明白，即便言語上的試探，也未必能完全掌握這個少女的底線。這場微妙的前哨戰在無聲中告一段落，但雙方都清楚，真正的較量仍在暗處潛伏。
~家族~
在黃前本家的地下祭壇，低垂的燭火搖曳。黑衣的家族成員們靜候，聽她下達指令。
「不必再強奪。」結衣的聲音冷靜而堅定，「我們守護自己的遺產，比追逐毀滅更長久。」
結衣以「黃前結衣」的最高權限，持續對家族那冰冷的核心意識進行著極其緩慢而精妙的「再詮釋」與「引導」。她無法改變其本質——天草四郎的遺恨與對信仰的扭曲執著如同無法撼動的基石——但她能如同最精巧的程式設計師，修改其運行的優先等級與路徑。
她話音落下，成員們齊聲應允，沒有一絲遲疑。
而在靈網深處，她能感受到那龐大、冰冷的集體意識微微偏轉。它並未改變本質，卻在她的干預下，調整了行進軌跡。
結衣將家族的目標，從「毀滅教會」、「復仇現世」，悄然扭轉為「維持自身存在」，並成為「守護切支丹信仰之影」。她向家族意識論證，無休止的衝突只會導致共同毀滅；而潛伏、觀察與探索，才能讓這份源自殉道者的執念以另一種形式永續。她以「神無月結衣是深入聖光核心，觀測其弱點與本質的最佳介面」為由，不僅保全了自己，甚至偶爾會向家族網絡傳回一些無關緊要的教會動向與經過嚴格篩選的聖術原理，以此換取更大的自主行動權與更深層的信任。
家族成員們依舊視她為最高位的存在，一絲不苟地執行著由她所下達，看似完全符合家族底層邏輯的指令。他們的行動變得更加隱蔽，更加低調。從激進的靈性破壞、強制轉化與掠奪，轉為更深度的潛伏、對古代切支丹遺產的系統性研究，以及對自身靈性秘儀的純化與內化。一種奇特的冰冷「和平」降臨於這個古老的異端家族。他們依舊是潛伏於世間的非人黑暗；但這黑暗，因結衣的意志而被套上了無形的韁繩——從渴望吞噬的狂獸，轉變為沉默觀察的暗影。戰爭，正逐漸演變成一場關於信仰本質與存在形式的長期競爭。
黃前家族仍是一頭低吼的猛獸，但現在伏在暗影裡，等待時機。
~母女~
至於她與母親——神無月一夢——則找到了一種獨特的關係穩定運作模式。一夢大部分時間生活在那個充滿回憶的家中，外表、行為與過去無異，依舊是溫柔體貼，總帶著溫暖笑容的母親。但她和結衣都心知肚明，那份溫柔之下，是經過結衣親自編寫與優化的靈識指令，其源頭和維護者正是結衣的意志。
這份認知並未成為她們之間的隔閡，反而成了僅屬於她們的，帶著一絲黑色幽默的羈絆與秘密。
某個午後，陽光斜斜灑進庭院，落在古老的石桌上，花香隨風流動。一夢正在插花，手指輕輕修剪葉片、調整花枝，似乎每個動作都小心翼翼，仿佛在呼應結衣在旁微弱的靈識波動。忽然，她停下動作，神情微僵，低聲道：「結衣，剛才有個聲音，好像想改變我的話語…」
結衣從書頁抬起頭，眼神如微光閃過，伸手輕覆母親的手背，聲音溫柔卻帶著一絲從容的威懾感：「不用理會。那只是殘餘的底層指令——它若試圖干預，我會親自調整它。」
一夢眨眨眼，微笑回復如常：「那麼，底層指示還提醒我，今天該幫妳準備草莓大福。」
一夢眨了眨眼，微笑如常，但語氣裡帶著幽默與一絲調皮：「那麼，底層指示還提醒我，今天該為妳準備草莓大福。」
結衣微微笑起，輕聲回應：「謝謝媽，那就麻煩媽媽的『底層指示』了，我很期待。對了，也幫我謝謝黃前一夢。」
一夢也笑了，帶著半真半假的無奈與幽默：「她知道的，不過從不回應我，只會讓我這樣那樣，就像穿在她外面的玩偶裝。啊啊~說實在的，玩偶裝也不想只感受到『動作』，偶爾也想瞧瞧藏在自己裡面的那傢伙呢~」
結衣被逗得大笑——既為一夢的「委屈」和幽默，也為彼此存在的荒誕不經，更為這份經歷巨大荒誕與痛苦後昇華而出的坦率。笑聲中，陽光透過枝葉灑在她們身上，微微閃爍，彷彿庭院也在見證這份脆弱卻堅實的羈絆。
接著一夢輕輕擺放花瓶，側身看向結衣，眼神柔和而堅定：「結衣，等等我們要不要一起去庭院另一邊，看看那些剛冒出的小花？我覺得…它們好像在等我們。」
結衣放下書本，微微點頭，伸手握住母親的手背，那份觸感既溫暖又帶著微妙的力量。她在心中暗自承諾：即便超自然的干擾再強烈，這份日常與愛，她都會守護到底。
她們在陽光下走向庭院深處，腳步輕盈而自然，靈識的波動在微風與花香間悄悄交融。這份平凡中的溫暖，是她們共同維護的奇蹟——由底層指令生出，卻比任何聖光都要真實、堅固。
~邊界~
夜裡，結衣站在庭院邊緣。前方是城市燈火，後方是群山朦朧。她向前走了一步，腳尖落在鋪石小徑的最後一格，彷彿只要再跨出，就會踏入無窮黑暗。
她靜止良久，終於後退一步。她選擇留在此處——不是因為恐懼，而是因為此刻的日常值得守護。
她的力量依舊矛盾：左腿蘊含聖潔的斬斷，右腿流淌慈悲的撫慰，都是透過教會獲取的神力祝福；而她靈魂深處卻仍連接著由怨念與扭曲信仰構成，冰冷古老的異端集體意識。結衣以驚人的意志力，將這互斥的兩極統合於一身，成為一個前所未有的奇點。
她既是奇蹟，也是集體意志的造物；既是聖徒，又是魔女。 她屬於雙方，卻又超越了任何一方的定義。
這條如履薄冰的路，孤獨而危險，但她再無動搖。她的過去由扭曲與偽裝構成，她的未來卻由每一個當下的選擇所定義。
她不再追問「我是誰」，而是用每一步行動去回答：「我選擇成為什麼。」
她曾一無所有，又親手重塑一切；她擁抱了自身全部的矛盾，接納了命運的極端荒誕，並最終將它們化為自己前進的力量。
無論風暴來自何方，她都已準備好，用手中的聖劍與聖杖去斬破荊棘，用那連通黑暗的權限去引導洪流，以此守護她所珍視的脆弱「日常」，以及她選擇去愛的全部。
她是神無月結衣，也是黃前結衣；是聖徒，也是魔女。
她將行走於邊界，直到故事與傳說的盡頭。
The war never truly ended. Its form and its rules had simply been completely rewritten by the one who walks the border.
The roaring holy-demonic war between the Church and the Omae family, under the guidance of the family's de facto agent, Yui, whose will was a fusion of surface consciousness and cold logic, gradually shifted to a deeper, more hidden dimension. Open, large-scale spiritual conflicts vanished, replaced by a silent cold peace and competition waged in the seams of the world's rules.
Yui, regarded by both sides as their most precious and most unpredictable asset, had successfully carved out a dangerous, narrow borderland for herself between the two colossal spiritual powers, relying on her absolute mastery of her own contradictions.
She was no longer purely a "Saint," nor was she purely a "heretic."
People began to call her by new names. In the streets and alleys, children would hear elders whisper of the "Saint of the Borderlands." In the dark alleys, survivors of certain supernatural incidents would murmur with a tremor, "That dual-wielding witch... she looked at me, as if in judgment, yet also in pity."
Her very existence had become a living legend.
~The Church~
The attitude of the Church's high command became extremely complex and pragmatic. They could not fully trust a being with the blood of a heretical origin flowing in her veins, whose soul was bound to the enemy's collective consciousness. Yet, they had to admit that it was because of Yui that the Omae family's most radical and world-threatening expansionist actions had been miraculously curbed, buying the Church invaluable time to breathe and regroup. She maintained contact with the Church, and they held an unspoken understanding.
One evening, Yui came to a remote chapel far from the main headquarters. The stained-glass windows cast colorful patterns of light. An elder sat quietly at the other end of a long pew.
"Yui," he said, his tone unhurried, "can you still sense the Holy Light?"
Yui simply raised her hand, letting a wisp of light gather in her palm before dissipating at her fingertips. It was not a grand display, but it was answer enough.
The elder nodded, then his tone suddenly shifted, and he said lightly, "But... I should be calling you Omae Yui now, correct?"
The air instantly froze. The distant bells happened to toll at that moment, their low echo like a cold blade slicing through the chapel's silence.
The elder's fingers twitched, and an invisible spiritual power faintly rippled, as if attempting to establish a connection with "Kannazuki Yui," or perhaps probing the shadowy depths of "Omae Yui's" underlying consciousness. A faint energy even seeped into the cracks of her dual consciousness, as if trying to tear open the secrets hidden within.
Yui met his gaze, her eyes deep and calm, as if having undergone thousands of internal calculations and system permission checks. A moment later, a gentle-seeming smile touched her lips, but her voice carried a cold composure. "A name is just a convenient label. If one insists on using it to determine who I belong to—they will likely get lost faster than light and shadow."
Her tone held no anger, but it was like a soft palm covering a blade, tightly suppressing the latent danger in the air. At the same time, an intangible threat flickered like a glimmer of cold light, hinting that she could turn that light into a tangible resolution at any moment.
A bead of cold sweat appeared on the elder's brow. He watched her, his eyes deep and complex, feeling the faint but clear pressure emanating from the young woman. He sighed, his voice tinged with weariness and admiration. "The doors of the Church will always be open to you. But you also understand, we cannot place you at our core."
Yui did not argue, only offered a standard bow. She turned and left, her back straight and silent. In her indifferent tenderness, there was a hint: if this balance were to be truly broken, she would not be the passive party.
The light and shadow in the chapel flickered. The light from the stained glass seemed to be textured by invisible fingers, and a faint sound of arcing electricity echoed in the air. The elder took a deep breath, his fingers still trembling slightly on his cross. He understood that even verbal probing could not fully grasp this young woman's bottom line. This subtle skirmish had ended in silence, but both sides knew the real contest was still lurking in the shadows.
~The Family~
In the subterranean altar of the Omae main house, low candlelight flickered. The black-clad family members waited in silence for her to issue her command.
"There is no longer a need for forceful seizure," Yui's voice was calm and firm. "Protecting our own heritage is more enduring than chasing destruction."
Using her supreme authority as "Omae Yui," she continued her extremely slow and subtle "re-interpretation" and "guidance" of the family's cold, core consciousness. She could not change its essence—the grudge of Amakusa Shirō and the twisted obsession with faith were immovable cornerstones—but like the most skillful programmer, she could modify its operational priorities and paths.
As her voice fell, the members answered in unison, without a shred of hesitation.
And deep within the spiritual network, she could feel the vast, cold collective consciousness shifting slightly. It had not changed its nature, but under her intervention, it had adjusted its trajectory.
Yui had quietly redirected the family's goals from "destroy the Church" and "avenge themselves on the world" to "maintaining their own existence" and becoming the "shadow protectors of the Kirishitan faith." She argued to the collective consciousness that endless conflict would only lead to mutual destruction, whereas lurking, observing, and exploring would allow the obsession of the martyrs to endure in another form. Using the justification that "Kannazuki Yui is the best interface for penetrating the core of the Holy Light to observe its weaknesses and essence," she not only preserved herself but would even occasionally transmit some non-critical Church movements and strictly filtered principles of holy arts back to the family network, in exchange for greater autonomy and deeper trust.
The family members still regarded her as the highest authority, meticulously carrying out the directives she issued, which appeared to perfectly align with the family's underlying logic. Their actions became more covert, more low-profile. They shifted from radical spiritual destruction, forced conversion, and plunder to deeper infiltration, systematic research of ancient Kirishitan heritage, and the purification and internalization of their own spiritual rituals. A strange, cold "peace" descended upon this ancient heretical family. They were still a non-human darkness lurking in the world, but this darkness had been fitted with an invisible rein by Yui's will—transformed from a ravenous beast eager to devour into a silent, observing shadow. The war was gradually evolving into a long-term competition over the nature of faith and the form of existence.
The Omae family was still a beast that growled, but now it crouched in the shadows, waiting.
~The Mother and Daughter~
As for her and her mother—Kannazuki Ichiyume—they had found a unique, stable operational model for their relationship. Most of the time, Ichiyume lived in that home full of memories, her appearance and behavior no different from before, still the gentle, considerate mother with a warm smile. But both she and Yui knew full well that beneath that tenderness was a psychic directive personally written and optimized by Yui, its source and maintainer being Yui's own will.
This knowledge did not become a barrier between them. Instead, it became a bond and a secret that was theirs alone, tinged with a touch of black humor.
One afternoon, sunlight slanted into the courtyard, falling on an old stone table as the fragrance of flowers drifted on the breeze. Ichiyume was arranging flowers, her fingers lightly trimming leaves and adjusting stems, each movement seemingly careful, as if responding to Yui's faint psychic fluctuations nearby. Suddenly, she paused, her expression stiffening slightly as she said in a low voice, "Yui, just now there was a voice... it seemed to want to change my words..."
Yui looked up from her book, her eyes flashing like a glimmer of light. She reached out and gently covered her mother's hand, her voice gentle yet carrying a composed sense of deterrence. "Ignore it. That's just a remnant underlying directive. If it tries to interfere, I will personally adjust it."
Ichiyume blinked, her smile returning to normal, but her tone was laced with humor and a hint of mischief. "Well then, the underlying directive also reminds me that I should prepare strawberry daifuku for you today."
Yui smiled faintly and replied softly, "Thank you, Mom. I'll have to trouble Mom's 'underlying directive' then. I'm looking forward to it. Oh, and please thank Omae Ichiyume for me too."
Ichiyume laughed as well, her tone a mix of half-genuine helplessness and humor. "Oh, she knows, but she never answers me. Just makes me do this and that, like I'm a doll costume she's wearing. Ahh, honestly, this doll costume doesn't just want to feel the 'actions,' you know. Sometimes it wants a peek at the one hiding inside!"
Yui burst out laughing—at Ichiyume's "grievance" and humor, at the absurdity of their existences, and at the candor that had been sublimated from immense absurdity and pain. In her laughter, the sunlight filtered through the leaves and sparkled on them, as if the courtyard itself were witnessing their fragile yet solid bond.
Then Ichiyume gently set down the vase, turned to Yui, her gaze soft and firm. "Yui, in a little while, shall we go to the other side of the garden together, to see those little flowers that just sprouted? I feel like... they're waiting for us."
Yui put down her book, nodded slightly, and took her mother's hand. The touch was both warm and imbued with a subtle strength. She made a silent promise to herself: no matter how strong the supernatural interference became, she would protect this daily life and this love to the very end.
They walked toward the deeper part of the garden under the sunlight, their steps light and natural, the fluctuations of their consciousnesses quietly mingling with the breeze and the scent of flowers. This warmth in the mundane was the miracle they maintained together—born of underlying directives, yet more real and solid than any Holy Light.
~The Border~
At night, Yui stood at the edge of the courtyard. Before her were the city lights; behind her, the hazy mountains. She took a step forward, the tip of her foot landing on the last flagstone of the path, as if one more step would take her into an infinite darkness.
She stood still for a long time, then finally took a step back. She chose to remain here—not out of fear, but because the present moment was worth protecting.
Her power remained a contradiction: her left leg held the sacred power to sever, her right leg the merciful power to soothe—both divine blessings obtained through the Church. Yet the depths of her soul were still connected to the cold, ancient, heretical collective consciousness forged from grudges and twisted faith. With astonishing willpower, Yui integrated these mutually exclusive poles within herself, becoming an unprecedented singularity.
She was both a miracle and a creation of a collective will; both a saint and a witch. She belonged to both sides, yet she transcended the definition of either.
This path, like walking on thin ice, was lonely and dangerous, but she no longer wavered. Her past was composed of distortion and disguise, but her future was defined by every choice she made in the present.
She no longer asked, "Who am I?" Instead, she answered with every action: "What I choose to be."
She once had nothing, then reshaped everything with her own hands. She embraced all of her own contradictions, accepted the extreme absurdity of her fate, and finally transformed them into the strength to move forward.
No matter where the storm came from, she was ready. With the Holy Sword and Staff in her hands, she would cut through the thorns. With the authority that connected her to the darkness, she would guide the torrent. And with these, she would protect the fragile "daily life" she cherished, and everything she had chosen to love.
She is Kannazuki Yui, and also Omae Yui; a Saint, and also a Witch.
She will walk the border, until the end of the story and the legend.
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