Outside the Cedar Forest, nestled in a mountain hollow...
Merlin lightly tapped his staff, casting an illusion that enveloped the small clearing in a transparent bubble, blending them seamlessly into the landscape.
Magical Beasts of all shapes and sizes passed nearby, completely unaware of the team hidden just out of sight.
Two hours passed, and the number of beasts pouring out from the forest dwindled. The woods grew noticeably quiet.
While soothing his Quetzalcoatlus, Samael glanced at Merlin and gave a thoughtful nod.
"It's time. Contact Uruk."
The great sage, having finished the circular Magecraft array, immediately raised his staff and traced Runes into the air, activating the secret ritual.
...
At the northern wall.
Leonidas stared at the densely packed horde of Magical Beasts below, his grip tightening around his spear. His expression turned grim.
The Eleven Offspring of Tiamat seemed nearly complete.
With aerial units like Wyverns and Triceratops-like Lion-Dragons, along with mid-to-long-range threats like the Seven-headed Serpent, the advantage once held by humanity was quickly crumbling.
Even by sheer numbers alone, the ratio between defenders and Magical Beasts had already surpassed ten to one.
Tch. This is a force disparity straight out of a nightmare.
Still, it wasn't the worst he'd seen. That title went to Thermopylae.
Back then, even in head-on combat, it had been 300 against 100,000—a gap over 300-fold.
And even so, all 300 of them had taken over 20,000 Persians to hell with them.
Leonidas grinned, slammed his spear into the ground with a steady rhythm, and let out a thunderous roar that shattered the solemn silence like war drums cracking the sky.
"Brothers! This is Thermopylae!"
"Behind you lies your homeland—your very birthright!"
"If they want it, let them come and take it!"
Bang! Bang-bang!
Bang! Bang-bang!
The soldiers of Uruk, long familiar with this tale, swelled with pride and struck their spears in sync, their muscles tensed, their war cries shaking the air.
"Come and take it!"
"Come and take it!"
"Come and take it!"
In that instant, under Leonidas' command, thousands of spears were hurled skyward like a rain of black thorns.
Blood erupted, the sound of flesh tearing filled the battlefield, and hundreds of Magical Beasts collapsed with pained howls—skewered like hedgehogs.
The battle had begun.
...
Almost simultaneously, flames of war engulfed the southern gate.
Taking advantage of the downpour, Mušḫuššu—the Dragon of Babylon—along with the Fishman Kulullû and the Water Serpent Ušumgallu, had slipped in via the waterways, bypassing the defenses through the Phragmites Prairie. Their numbers were no less than those at the north.
Worse still, the south lacked the towering fortifications of the northern wall, forcing its defenders to face the onslaught head-on.
Boom!
A blaze descended from the sky, exploding in the center of the densest beast cluster. A crater a hundred meters wide tore open the earth, scattering rubble and beams of magical energy, vaporizing dozens of creatures on impact.
"It's Lady Kukulkan!"
The beleaguered defenders at the southern gate were electrified by the sight of the Mayan warrior charging headfirst into the enemy ranks, carving through Magical Beasts like a storm with no resistance.
Immediately, priests and priestesses arrived with a black jaguar statue, murmuring prayers.
A series of circular summoning arrays rose from the ground, and over a thousand jaguar warriors—clad in leather and armed with stone weapons—rushed forth, halting the enemy's advance.
Bang!
Kukulkan swung her obsidian blade with ease, cleaving the head off a Mušḫuššu. Purple-red blood splashed across the battlefield.
Whoosh!
A Fishman burst from the moat and flung a steel trident toward her.
But with a slight sidestep, the feathered serpent goddess caught the weapon's shaft mid-air and hurled it right back.
In a blink, three Fishmen were skewered through the skull and sank lifelessly into the water.
She sensed another threat—wind rushing at her back.
Without even turning, Kukulkan dropped into a split, both legs stretched wide. The Wyvern diving in from above never stood a chance. Her kick landed clean, snapping its neck on impact.
In just moments, over a hundred Magical Beasts had fallen—either directly or indirectly—by the hand of the Mayan goddess.
The pressure at the southern gate eased dramatically.
With their lines stabilized, the defenders, together with the Jaguar Warrior and Kukulkan, used the moat, siege equipment, and a steady stream of reinforcements to mount a solid counterattack.
But after snapping the neck of another Mušḫuššu, Kukulkan looked up toward the Cedar Forest, worry etched across her face.
...
At that moment, in the Divine Tower of the royal palace.
"You're saying the commander of the Magical Beasts—Kingu—still hasn't appeared?"
Samael, his figure flickering within the Magecraft array, frowned slightly as he repeated what he had just heard.
"That's right. With the rain cleared, this is the perfect time for both sides to strike."
"Those beasts were created as machines of slaughter—meant to wipe out humanity. There's no way Gorgon's influence alone would keep them leashed in the Cedar Forest, playing watchdog."
Siduri, holding a frontline clay tablet report, wore a solemn expression.
"So, even without provocation, we've seen major attacks break out from both the north and the south."
"Based on rough estimates, nearly seventy percent of the Magical Beast army has gathered around Uruk."
"Yet up to this point, there's been no sign of Kingu on either front."
Samael flicked his nails, then looked up again, his gaze now steadier.
"That's a good sign..."
"A good sign?" Siduri looked puzzled.
"If Kingu isn't seizing this perfect opportunity to strike, then something more important must be holding her back."
"And the only thing that could do that in the Cedar Forest... would be the safety of the Goddess of Demonic Beasts."
"Looks like our guess was right. Gorgon really might be incubating."
Samael pressed his lips together, visibly relieved.
"But this squad's still too small. If we're forced to deal with both Kingu and Gorgon at once... we won't hold."
Siduri glanced toward the warriors waiting in the valley, concern clouding her face.
Samael, unfazed, turned his gaze toward Gilgamesh—seated atop his throne, chin resting on one hand, calm and imperious.
"So, as planned, it's time for the king to make his move."
"Hmph. This king could use a bit of exercise. Time to return the favor from last time."
The King of Heroes snapped his eyes open. With a cold snort, he raised his hand and drew forth a strange cylindrical weapon from the golden vortex behind him—the very same one that had once sent chills down Samael's spine.
In a flash, his body transformed into a golden stream of light and shot into the sky.
At once, sacred red and black patterns—majestic and desolate—began to spread across the sky, carving up the heavens in intricate, shifting layers. It was as if the world itself had been disassembled into countless segments.
A roaring surge of Ether burst forth, shredding the long-standing storm clouds over Uruk.
...
At that very moment, the Cedar Forest and Blood Fort trembled to their core.
All around, Magical Beast eggs—large and small—wailed in unison, as if sensing the wrathful thunder approaching from the heavens.
No...!
Kingu's expression shifted instantly. His form flashed golden as he burst out from the Blood Fort, racing toward the northern high platform.
But in his haste, he failed to realize something—
This was exactly the same situation as before.
Just as he had once threatened Uruk and the northern wall, now the King of Heroes used the Blood Fort to force his hand.
Back in the silent temple, the slumbering Gorgon lay within the abyssal blood pool, still undisturbed. But beneath her, the red and black shadows of the fetus stirred more violently, and a strange, pulsing vibration spread outward from the depths.