Astrology Tower, pointed spire.
Samael, now the Shepherd King, stood atop the tallest building in the city. His cross-shaped pupils swept across the distant horizon, taking everything in.
At the outer edge of the fortress, a vast Magecraft ritual had constructed a layered array, forming an inverted, prismatic dome over the city. It cleaved the world in two—inside and out, light and darkness.
Within Uruk, under the protection of the Solar Calendar Stone, the sunlight was warm, and artificial stars twinkled across a simulated sky.
A gentle breeze carried through the streets. Daily life proceeded in calm order—warriors stood guard on the northern and southern fronts, shops bustled with business, and smoke curled lazily from chimneys.
It felt like the peaceful, beautiful days of old had never ended.
But beyond Uruk, even a fleeting glance through the protective membrane was enough to crush the heart with despair.
A heavy blackness had swallowed all light. No trace of sun, moon, or stars remained visible from the surface of the Earth.
Rumble!
Thousands of violet-white lightning bolts exploded from layer upon layer of cloud, streaking through the endless night sky or crashing vertically like divine wrath made manifest.
In those flickering flashes, one could barely make out that the torrential downpour still raged on.
The land had been entirely submerged beneath churning muddy waters. The floodwaters had risen nearly a hundred meters—level with the walls of the city, which had been ceaselessly raised and reinforced.
Tornadoes swept and twisted through the mountainous waves, crisscrossing in chaotic fury. They churned through sky and sea, interwoven with relentless lightning in a maelstrom of destruction.
In just six days, the world outside had completely collapsed.
On the first day, dark clouds blanketed all of Mesopotamia. Rain poured in torrents. Light and dark blurred into one. Day and night lost all meaning.
On the second day, wild storms raged. Thick, chaotic ether made it nearly impossible to breathe outside Uruk's protective barrier.
On the third day, the ground split open. Waters surged from the abyss. Thunderous rain poured from the heavens. The Euphrates and Tigris rivers burst their banks one after the other.
Eridu, Kutha, Ur, Nippur—one by one, they fell. All land beyond Uruk was completely drowned.
On the fourth day, the stars vanished. The sun and moon were swallowed in darkness. Only deafening thunder remained, roaming freely through the sky.
On the fifth day, life itself began to wither. Beasts had long since perished. The rivers held no more fish. The skies bore no sign of birds.
On the sixth day, even magical beasts born of divine blood and high-ranking Dragonkind that had escaped now fell under the siege of Laḫmu. Forced from their lairs, they were consumed and converted into puppets of the black tide.
At that point, Uruk had become a solitary island adrift in a sea of filth. The last refuge for humankind, for animals, plants—even for wild divine beasts.
Only twenty thousand people remained. Alongside them, beasts and nature-born gods who had managed to flee into the city. Outside was nothing but utter chaos.
With the storms and lightning now receding, and the clamorous cries of life silenced, the outside world had returned to deathly stillness.
...
Inside the city, the dome simulating the sky began to dim, casting a gentle glow as dusk approached. The figure standing atop the Astrology Tower stretched long in the fading light, like the silhouette of a serpent coiled in the sky.
"Hah... Still not enough..."
Samael slowly opened his eyes and exhaled a breath of stale air. He let out a helpless sigh.
Even as all Mesopotamia turned upside down, the so-called "World Wall"—the barrier—remained unbroken.
Tiamat, the Mother Goddess, was still unable to cross the threshold. And the string tugging at his mind—wasn't strong enough to guide this ark of life beyond the wall.
Was there truly hope left for humanity?
The ancient serpent slowly turned the Holy Grail in his hand. The weight of helplessness and doubt pressed heavier on his heart with each passing moment.
Just from sleeping in the abyss, the power leaking out during the reclamation of her authority had already reshaped the world.
What kind of catastrophe would her full manifestation as a god of creation bring?
He had a sinking feeling. If Apsu awoke tomorrow, then even Uruk—the last island protected by five goddesses—would be swallowed in ruin.
Hold out for just one more day? If it were only the god of the abyss, maybe they could hold on, strike back after regrouping.
But now—
To the north, the cedar beast Huwawa had extended its roots beyond the Babylonia front.
The Arms of Dawn, growing deep underwater, had already dismantled and shattered the Fangs of Napishtim.
Along Mount Ebih, the Bull of Heaven, Gugalanna, drove floodwaters again and again into the walls. Ishtar, tasked with holding back the deluge, was nearing exhaustion.
And on both eastern and western fronts, the outlook was no better—Laḫmu darkened the skies, and countless corrupted spirits surged endlessly, applying crushing pressure without pause.
Merlin, the Jaguar Warriors, Ana, and Leonidas were all scrambling non-stop, barely keeping up as they raced to seal breaches across the city.
Samael had pinned his hopes on Kukulkan, the Feathered Serpent Goddess—but she had remained in a weakened state, forced to constantly power the Solar Calendar Stone without rest.
To be honest, the longer things dragged on, the more his hopes of victory dwindled.
If they couldn't find a way to bring Tiamat, the one being who could match Apsu, into the Mesopotamian world, then everything would be over.
The goddesses they did have were all operating far from their peak. They were already struggling to hold off Gugalanna, the Bull of Heaven, to hold the line against Huwawa, the Cedar Beast—now they had to contend with Apsu, the Father of Genesis too.
Just imagining the situation was enough to make anyone despair.
The idea of enduring one more day, boarding the so-called Ark, and luring Apsu toward the Persian Gulf… it was nothing short of a fantasy.
And besides that, he couldn't shake the doubts gnawing at him.
Seizing the Holy Grail to repair himself and reactivate his powers…
Altering the environment to generate a water cycle, hastening his own awakening…
Controlling high-ranking divine beasts and unleashing massive swarms to harass Uruk...
Looking at the big picture, Apsu was nothing like the monster he remembered—one who relied purely on brute force to purge the world.
This enemy felt more like a cunning, sadistic predator—smart, patient, and precise.
If that was true, it was terrifying. The fall of Sumer was all but certain.
Tiamom… Tiamom… just give me a sign, anything.
Right now, I honestly don't know what to do.
Samael's mind was a storm of thoughts, his temples pounding.
But the thread in his consciousness could only send back faint, indecipherable tremors—tinged with sorrow and lament.
Fine. Let's shift gears—maybe there's something in Ziusudra's prophecy.
"Authority is not the sole domain of the gods—mankind too can gather the Mandate of Heaven!"
If that connects to the first line, then what is the second part pointing at?
I've already become the Shepherd King. I've been quietly spreading a more peaceful image of the Mother Goddess Tiamat. But even that hasn't produced any tangible results.
The Mandate… the Mandate...
Samael's brow slowly eased. His expression shifted, as if something clicked. At last, a faint smile crept onto his lips.
Bang!
In the next instant, the ancient serpent's face twisted. He slammed his fist into the stone slab beside him, leaving a deep, clear dent.
Damn it all!
Riddler, get out of Gotham!
Wait—no, I'm so pissed I got confused. It's Riddler, get out of Uruk!
Samael's face was darker than the bottom of a pot. He wanted nothing more than to drag out that West Asian hero who survived Enlil's flood and beat the crap out of him.
Assuming he could win, of course.
What's the point of spouting cryptic riddles?!
And when he asked the old man Ziusudra directly, the guy just shrugged and said he didn't know either. All he could offer were vague omens.
To top it off, the whole riddle came from my own divine revelations, which means only I can figure it out?
Screw this! I hate riddle-spewing lunatics!
After racking his brain for a while, Samael found himself even more lost. No progress. Nothing.
As he looked up, the sky above—crafted from the Magecraft arrays and the Solar Calendar Stone—was dimming.
Night had fallen.
The seventh day was about to begin.
Whatever. I'll just make the most of the time I have left.
Maybe this is Uruk's final night.
With a sigh, Samael shook off the chaotic thoughts, leapt down from the Astrology Tower, and began wandering aimlessly through the streets, now eerily quiet.
After six grueling days of defense, Uruk had lost nearly five thousand lives. The city at night carried a heavy silence.
Still, smoke continued to curl from chimneys. Hammers rang from the forges. Soldiers cleaned their weapons and armor. Priests and priestesses preached and offered their final prayers.
Despite the wounds carved deep into its heart, this city stood unbroken—unshakable, uncrushable, unyielding under pressure.
Maybe that's what gives humanity the potential to one day stand alongside the gods.
To the people of Uruk, who had seen too much death and disaster, even the end of the world was something they could face with calm resolve.
Hm? The embassy?
At some point during his wandering, Samael found himself standing still, staring up at a warmly lit attic that looked a little worn but strangely inviting.
He blinked in mild surprise.
"Eep…"
The door creaked open as a pair of small hands pushed it aside. Ana, wearing an apron and with flour smudged across her cheeks, came rushing out.
The moment she saw the figure in front of her, her eyes lit up like she'd just spotted a savior. She grabbed Samael's arm and dragged him into the kitchen.
"Samael, Samael! Why did the butter cake dough all stick to the oven? Come take a look!"
"Uh, probably because you didn't grease it enough. Also, why'd you put so much honey in the filling? Kids shouldn't eat that much sugar..."
"I'm not a kid!"
"Alright, alright, let's give it another shot."
"Yeah!"
Inside the kitchen, the large and small figures moved around in sync, slipping naturally back into their old rhythm.
"Wait, what's that you're simmering up top?"
"And why's the grill still preheating?"
"I bought a bunch of stuff today. I wanted to cook a big meal for everyone."
"Besides the butter cake, there's coconut porridge, wheat cakes, pork rib soup, lamb chops, and beef!"
Acting as the head chef and eager to show off, the little girl lifted her chin with pride as she listed off the dishes.
Samael, acting as her assistant, asked casually.
"Who'd you invite?"
"Sister Ishtar, Sister Kukulkan, Miss Jaguar Warrior, Sister Siduri, and Merlin."
"Uncle Leonidas is on city defense duty, so he can't come. But I packed a portion for him—someone can drop it off."
"You even invited Merlin... and didn't invite me?"
Samael's face darkened, visibly annoyed.
"Huh? I thought you came because Sister Siduri sent word from the Divine Tower to help us out?"
Ana blinked, confused.
"Uh… I came down from the Astrology Tower, was just passing by, and then you drafted me."
"Wait, does that mean Siduri's still waiting back at the tower?"
"Announcement! You go outside and notify everyone again!"
Dragged into the kitchen just moments ago, the ancient serpent found himself shoved right back out into the living room by the flustered little cook, now tasked with summoning the guests.
...
Half an hour later, familiar smiling faces began arriving, and the atmosphere quickly warmed up.
Kukulkan and Siduri, ever-reliable, joined the kitchen to help prep and added more variety to the menu.
The Jaguar Warrior came in with three or four bottles of malt beer slung over her shoulder, ready to party.
Merlin, the notorious drunkard, licked his lips and shuffled over. It only took a few words between him and the Jaguar Warrior before they hit it off. Soon enough, the two were trading toasts and drinking straight from the bottle atop stools.
After a while, Merlin smacked his lips and stared at his empty cup, a trace of regret in his eyes.
"Too bad King Gilgamesh isn't here…"
"You want to invite him for drinks?"
The Jaguar Warrior, already tipsy, slung an arm over Merlin's shoulder and leaned in.
"He's just craving the fine wine from Gilgamesh's treasury."
Samael, munching on a mango, shot back with a scowl, exposing the incubus's real motive.
"Tch, the king's wine… One taste and you'll never forget it. Every other drink just feels dull afterward."
Merlin gave a sheepish grin and tried pitching the legendary brew to his new drinking buddy.
Listening intently, the Jaguar Warrior licked her lips and elbowed Merlin in the ribs.
"Let's just go call King Gilgamesh and raid his cellar together!"
"Call him back? You wish!"
Merlin downed another swig and grumbled.
"I heard the Chains of Heaven have completely fused both sets of memories in him. He's now both Kingu and Enkidu."
"The Chains and the Wedges of Heaven are practically inseparable again, totally stuck to each other."
"Gilgamesh even handed the throne of Uruk over to this guy Samael just to keep out of their way."
"There's no way we can break those two apart…"
Yeah, the Great Magus was once again unemployed, and his partner of the last six months had run off with someone else. A little bitterness was understandable.
"Fine, leave if you want. But at least leave the wine behind… Let me have one last taste..."
Samael's lips twitched as he overheard Merlin's drunken muttering.
So much for friendship—this shameless incubus only wanted to mooch Gilgamesh's good wine.
Casting a disapproving glance at the two drinkers continuing their rowdy toasts, the ancient serpent, with nothing better to do, noticed a soft golden glow by the stairway and rose with a chuckle to head upstairs.
...
In the cool night air, Samael quietly approached and slipped his arms around Ereshkigal's slender waist from behind, resting his chin against her cheek.
She shivered slightly, but soon relaxed into the closeness. Her body warmed and softened, a flush blooming on her ears.
"So beautiful…"
"W-What…"
The warm breath in her ear made Ereshkigal, ever shy, turn beet red. Her words stumbled, and her proud figure started to resist the sudden intimacy.
"I meant Uruk…"
"I wonder how long this beauty will last..."
Samael sighed, gazing down at the fortress city bathed in the glow of the Solar Calendar Stone. His eyes held a depth and solemnity befitting a ruler watching over Sumerian civilization.
Because he was that ruler.
The goddess in his arms no longer trembled. They leaned into each other in the dark, quietly sharing warmth. Her delicate fingers slowly slid down to clasp the ancient serpent's hand.
"Samael…"
"Yeah?"
"Mind moving your hand now?"
Suddenly, the temperature in the room plummeted. The hand that had been wandering over the goddess's shapely backside was peeled away finger by finger.
The bone-popping crack of knuckles echoed upstairs—just as dinner downstairs was about to begin.
...
The Jaguar Warrior and Kukulkan kicked off an Aztec ritual war dance, full of wild energy and rhythmic stomps, toasting together in celebration.
However, when a certain overly familiar drunk dared place a paw on Kukulkan's chest and gave it a clueless squeeze—
The atmosphere froze. Tables and chairs rattled violently. Moments later, there was a fresh crater in the floor—complete with someone's head planted squarely inside.
Siduri, after packing Leonidas's meal into a lunch box, finally sat down to eat.
Ana, a little nervous but excited, invited the head priestess to sample each dish she'd made.
When the verdict came and met her hopes, the little girl beamed and happily raised a cup of hot milk.
Except—the cup had been slid toward her by a certain white-haired incubus, tipsy and grinning wickedly.
From a distance, the wineglass in his hand—once full—had mysteriously lost half its contents.
"Drinking skills should be trained from a young age..."
That was how he'd taught Artoria, back in the day.
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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