Half an hour later, the big cat crawled out of the bath, soaked from head to paw, legs weak and unsteady, as if treading on cotton candy.
It wasn't until Ereshkigal activated the temple's divine authority to dry both of them off that the dazed Ian finally regained a bit of clarity.
But just as he was about to follow his master and flop onto the bed, a kick sent him tumbling to the floor. Ereshkigal looked down at him, face full of disdain.
Had she found out?
Ian jolted, fur bristling in alarm.
Then, the goddess pointed at her pet sprawled on the ground and spoke with a serious tone.
"Change back!"
The temple of Meslamtaea was already hot enough. If she had to cuddle with this furball of a cat, Ereshkigal was pretty sure she'd suffocate.
So that was all it was?
Relieved that it wasn't something worse, Ian gave a wry smile. With a swirl of red and black mist, he transformed into his ancient snake form and slithered under the covers, cooling the bedding with his presence.
Apparently, the big cat wasn't welcome in bed anymore.
Ian sighed inwardly and curled the corners of his mouth in mild resignation.
As night deepened, the exhausted Ereshkigal soon drifted into sleep. Her curled-up body tightened around the cool, snake-like pillow in her arms.
Phew.
The ancient snake carefully wriggled a few inches free from her embrace, breathing a silent sigh of relief, heart pounding in his chest.
That was close. His snake guts had nearly been crushed—sometimes, sleeping beside someone could be a real hazard.
He slowly shifted, trying to extract the rest of his tail and stretch out his stiff body.
But the moment the tip of his tail slipped from Ereshkigal's palm, her brow furrowed. Her slender body curled up even tighter, arms flailing unconsciously, her expression growing tense and uneasy.
"Don't go... don't go..."
Her faint murmurs were filled with loneliness and fear. The head buried beneath golden locks began to tremble, as if she might jolt awake from a nightmare at any moment.
Softly...
The hanging tail coiled itself around the goddess's wrist. She immediately clutched it tightly, and the tension in her brows slowly eased.
Bathed in the temple's gentle glow, the ancient snake grimaced in silent pain as he stared quietly at the serene, contented face of his sleeping master, letting out a soft sigh.
He had always known—here in the lifeless silence of the underworld, Ereshkigal couldn't display joy, sorrow, or even forge friendships. She couldn't truly feel.
Over the endless years, even the souls she tried to protect would inevitably fade and break apart.
In the end, the goddess trapped in the underworld could only face eternity alone.
Ian understood that pain—but he could never truly experience it.
Yet now, in this single, subtle gesture, he finally realized just how much his presence meant to Ereshkigal.
By swallowing the sacred herb, he had achieved immortality and could stay by her side forever.
As a living being, he was something real—something warm. He fulfilled her yearning for contact with life itself.
He could offer comfort in her sorrow, share in her joys, and listen when she needed to speak.
If he chose to leave, it would shatter the fragile color that had only just begun to bloom in her world.
Even so... Ian had no choice.
First, Ereshkigal had already joined the Three Goddess Alliance and signed a contract with the other two mysterious entities to destroy the world of Mesopotamia.
Whichever of them conquered Uruk—the last stronghold—and seized the Holy Grail from Gilgamesh's treasury would gain permanent dominion over the land.
Ian figured his master had been digging underground every day because she wanted to win first, to protect Uruk in her own way.
Besides, from what he'd observed, there had to be another reason why Ereshkigal wasn't confronting the other two goddesses to defend the land. A woman as serious and stubborn as her wouldn't change her decision easily once it was made.
What's more, the contract binding the Three Goddess Alliance seemed even more absolute and restrictive than he remembered.
So even if Ereshkigal wanted to defect and join the human side, she would still need a reason strong enough to convince herself.
Trying to sway a proud goddess with nothing but empty words—expecting her to risk death and betray her will—was delusional and irresponsible.
If he really wanted to stop Ereshkigal, he'd need to show her his worth—make her believe in him, not just his words.
Second, and more importantly, he was stuck by her side in his current form.
As a snake, he was limited in action, constantly under threat from unseen forces.
After all, he was the original Sinful Serpent that devoured the Herb of Immortality. According to fate, he shouldn't even be alive.
Now, with everyone's attention fixed on the movements of the Three Goddess Alliance, even if he succeeded in persuading Ereshkigal to switch sides, such a dramatic shift would inevitably attract attention from those pulling the strings behind the scenes.
He hadn't been in the underworld long, and his involvement with Gilgamesh's quest for immortality only made things worse. His background wouldn't withstand even the slightest scrutiny.
In short, trying to persuade Ereshkigal as a snake was bad enough—but if he actually succeeded and triggered major changes, he'd practically be signing his own death sentence.
The only solution Ian could think of was to escape this stalemate, assume a new identity, and lie low in secret.
Even with the Authority granted to him by Tiamat, he was still far too weak. He had to slip through the cracks and move with the current.
The Three Goddess Alliance had already ravaged Mesopotamia for nearly half a year. His time was running out.
If he delayed any longer and missed certain crucial turning points, he might lose his chance forever.
Forget it. One step at a time.
Ian quieted his restless thoughts, rested his head against his master's chest, and curled up, offering her a touch of cool comfort in the dark.
...
The next morning, as the soft red glow of the Fire Temple began to rise, Ereshkigal fought her habitual laziness, forced herself up, grabbed the ancient snake, and headed to a flat clearing at the base of the cliff.
Whoosh!
The moment she let go, the snake was flung down into the shadowy gorge. As the wind howled past, Ian noticed the rocks and soil below rapidly gathering into rising spikes, each one sharpened and aimed upward. He sighed in resignation.
Here we go again. Time for his daily training session.
He had once asked Ereshkigal to help him train.
So, true to her serious nature, his master put her full effort into it—summoning Gallû Spirits for live combat drills.
And these monsters, newly formed into skeletal shapes, were actual seasoned death-soldiers with real combat experience.
Early on, Ian was brutally beaten one-on-one by same-rank opponents. Every time, he ended up battered from head to tail.
But his absurd level of immortality gave him equally absurd healing abilities—nearly dead one day, bouncing around like nothing happened the next.
Eventually, he managed to outlast the Gallû Spirits through sheer endurance.
Add to that his sharp thinking, and over time, his combat instincts sharpened rapidly. He could even hold his own against two of them at once.
Unfortunately, the tougher he proved himself, the more at ease Ereshkigal felt ramping up the intensity—each session hit harder than the last, no mercy spared.
No point complaining now. Those memories were better left buried.
Swallowing his grievances, Ian braced himself, coiling mid-air to dodge the barrage of stone spikes. Slipping through a narrow gap, he landed on a patch of undisturbed ground.
But before he could even catch his breath, the death fog around him churned violently.
A Gallû Spirit wielding a long spear floated silently toward him.
Tch. Three Silver-rank Gallû Spirits—one baiting, two still in hiding.
This just got a whole lot harder.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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