Boom!
Explosions erupted sharply on both sides, unleashing piercing screeches and vibrant streaks of light that wove outwards in all directions.
Amid the raging Ether turbulence, Enkidu, now restored to full form, and Gilgamesh, still midair, rapidly pulled back.
The Bull of Heaven, Gugalanna, who had just been bombarded, now had one of his horns severed, and a deep, charred gash split open his chest, exposing the bone.
Yet as the top-tier divine beast reared his head and bellowed, a living tide of black surged from beneath his hooves, flowing over his metallic form. In an instant, the wounds vanished. His aura surged even more violently than before.
At the same moment, on the northern wall, the Spear Cage conjured by Ereshkigal shattered. From the air, a figure dove straight through the thunderstorm, landed atop tangled vines, and raised a hand to strike.
"Hiss!"
The cedar beast Huwawa, formed of plant matter and rotting flesh, squirmed and twisted, its body shifting like warped dough.
Its face had lost all discernible features, letting out a shrill infant's cry. Cracks in patchy patterns spread from the incision left by Harpe, quickly crawling across Huwawa's entire body.
"Bang!"
The creature, swelling and shrinking like a grotesque balloon, suddenly burst apart—scattering wood chips and chunks of meat in every direction.
The black tide rushing in from the cedar forest missed by mere inches, leaving only the drifting remains to plop into the water with a splash.
"Mongrel! You've lived long enough!"
With a cold snort, dozens of archaic, sharp swords launched from golden vortexes that had opened all around.
Amid the smoke and debris, a writhing mass of cracked red-and-black flesh was just about to fall into the tide when it was pierced through in an instant—shredded to dust and scattered.
Gilgamesh promptly helped the pale Enkidu to his feet. His eyes darkened as he gazed at the rising aura of Gugalanna, now shrouded in the black tide.
Taking both down at once... not so easy, after all.
So that kid was right...
"Our opponent can think. It has intelligence!"
Inside the Divine Tower of the royal palace, Samael stared at the battlefield projected by the Magecraft array. His brows furrowed, eyes filled with dread, he murmured to himself.
From the moment those top-tier divine beasts appeared in both the north and south, the Ancient Serpent had been piecing together intelligence based on the actions of the four interceptors—Gilgamesh, Enkidu, Ishtar, and Ereshkigal.
And long ago, they had already devised targeted strategies based on the weaknesses of Huwawa and Gugalanna.
As the saying goes, "specific counters trump all." With each monster having its corresponding nemesis, the difficulty of eliminating them dropped from hell-level to beginner-level.
Ana and Ereshkigal were assigned to the immortal cedar beast Huwawa, while Gilgamesh and Enkidu took on the divine-tier Gugalanna.
It was, without a doubt, the most optimal strategy.
Initially, when the plan was proposed, some had considered switching opponents to eliminate the two divine beasts early.
But Samael had strongly opposed it, arguing that premature action might alert Apsu and awaken him from the abyss.
After all, their true goal was to buy time and escape—not to fight Apsu head-on.
Besides, splitting their forces would only invite the enemy to strike them down one by one.
So the Ancient Serpent suggested six days of feigned combat to lure the enemy in. Then, at the moment of convergence in Uruk, they'd switch opponents and wipe out Apsu's empowered minions in one coordinated blow.
Yet even with the combined might of Ana, Ereshkigal, Gilgamesh, and Enkidu, they only managed to take down Huwawa—whose weaknesses were more apparent.
Gugalanna, the Bull of Heaven near Mount Ebih and far stronger, remained alive.
Compared to Huwawa, this divine beast had even greater destructive power and flood-controlling authority—making him far more dangerous.
"Moo!"
Just then, Gugalanna, now fused with the power of the black tide, burst out from the thunderclouds. His towering form radiated a dark golden glow.
His hardened muscles and bones easily deflected the torrential rain of blades and divine arrows. Unscathed, he surged straight to Uruk's edge.
With a mighty stomp of his hooves, Gugalanna's blood-red eyes locked forward. His massive frame charged through the floodwaters, generating layers of deafening, crashing waves.
At the same time, his sapphire horns lowered menacingly as thunderclouds billowed outward. Blinding arcs of lightning carved chaotic streaks across the darkness.
In the blink of an eye, a temple woven entirely from multicolored lightning took form—hurtling toward the Authority layer of the Solar Calendar Stone that hung above the fortress city.
Noble Phantasm—Heavenly Echo Shrine, Gugala Inanna!
"Boom!"
The Heavenly Echo Shrine crackled with thunder as a phantom form pressed down, arcs of lightning like hundred-meter-long serpents darting across the light screen. Uruk trembled violently.
Then, two blazing blue horns slowly pierced into the solar calendar stone barrier, fracturing its layers like splintering mirrors, the cracks spreading uncontrollably across the entire region.
Deafening thunder and howling winds roared through the widening black fissures, ripping at the very air, instilling a suffocating sense of doomsday despair in Uruk's people.
"Buzz!"
At the brink of disaster, a pale hand pressed against the solar calendar stone. The star map above the dome trembled, then shattered. The sun patterns contracted sharply.
"Pssh!"
An obsidian sacrificial blade slashed Kukulkan's right wrist. In an instant, golden-red blood poured into the carved grooves of Mayan glyphs etched with the star calendar.
In that moment, the flickering star map flared brightly. A sun like the peak of noon burst forth, radiating intense brilliance.
"Bang!"
A shockwave rang out for hundreds of miles as the charging Bull of Heaven, Gugalanna, was blasted backward like a cannonball. The black tide it had stirred up collapsed under the impact.
The beast, as if hurled by a giant, skidded across the water, raising hundred-meter waves. Mountains along its path shattered and crumbled, the earth echoing with its wails.
"The jaguar's scared to death! Scared to death!"
One of the Jaguar Warriors guarding the path patted her chest in fright, her fur bristling. Then she looked up at the Feathered Serpent standing beside the solar calendar stone, heart surging.
Nice one! Kuku! Even with less than half her divinity left, she still managed to smack that bull into the ground!
Just as the Jaguar was swelling with pride, about to shout and vent her fear, the figure at the tip of the Astrology Tower suddenly toppled and fell toward the ground.
A certain feline's heart lurched. Instinctively dropping her claws, she leapt from the rooftop and caught Kukulkan midair.
"Hey, hey! Kuku! Don't scare me!"
Dragging her long-time rival into a hidden corner, the Jaguar Warrior raised her claw and gave the Feathered Serpent a couple of firm slaps.
"You haven't taken me home yet—don't you dare die on me now!"
Still no response? One more try!
The impatient feline raised her claw again. But as her gaze met a pair of half-lidded emerald snake eyes, she froze midair, her whole body stiffening.
That look... sent chills down her spine.
It was the same expression Kukulkan had whenever she was about to get her face smashed in.
Maybe… I should run?
"Snap!"
Just as the Jaguar Warrior braced to bolt, legs tensed to retreat, a sound like shattering glass rang out from the spire and dome of the Astrology Tower.
Wind, thunder, and darkness poured through the widening cracks, flooding into Uruk.
She looked up. The solar calendar stone at the center had split open, and the Ether turbulence was shredding through the protective barrier. Her pupils shrank sharply.
Then came the roar of crashing waves, surging once again from both Mount Ebih and the Cedar Forest.
A dark, heavy, sticky, and bone-chilling presence rapidly filled the sky.
The fifth and sixth waves of the black tide were here!
Now exposed to wind, rain, and lightning atop the high walls, the defenders on either side stared at the incoming black flood of destruction, feeling a chill creep through their bones.
Within the black tide were countless enormous jaws bristling with sharp fangs—an army of Laḫmu.
"Hedgehog formation!"
Leonidas, stoic as stone, slammed his shield and roared.
Those with stronger wills bit their lips, raised their shields, and regrouped with their comrades to form a living barricade atop the wall.
Even the paralyzed youths, under the Spartan King's "gentle" encouragement—grabs and kicks alike—quickly snapped out of their stupor and joined the ranks.
Bang!
With a deafening crash like a siege hammer smashing through a gate, several meters of the northern eastern line were obliterated.
Hundreds of soldiers from the East Gate barracks who had just arrived as reinforcements were swatted away like flies—bodies twisted, organs shattered—raining down in a gruesome storm.
Bricks and stones, like cannonballs, slammed into the buildings behind, blasting gaping holes through interior walls.
One by one, Laḫmu climbed onto the ramparts, their rustling forms scaling the walls before leaping down into Uruk with twisted laughter.
"Spears up! Thrust!"
"Don't panic! Hold the line! The ones below are being handled!"
Leonidas raised his arm and pinned a Laḫmu to the wall, his shout rallying the shaken soldiers.
At the same time, the commander began reorganizing the retreating Spartan phalanx into a fearless countercharge, forcibly halting the Laḫmu's push on the western and central fronts.
Below the northern wall, two mountain passes rose from the ground. Hundreds of soldiers, their bodies marked with dark red divine sigils and clad in heavy armor, advanced shoulder to shoulder, expressions wild as they roared forward.
"May the Goddess Ereshkigal shield me from harm and grant me victory!"
The charging Laḫmu lunged, sharp claws stabbing at the armored ranks.
But the heavy armor, forged from rare metals and inscribed with Magecraft defense arrays, was impenetrable—like steel cans with no openings.
Even as the Laḫmu adapted quickly, slipping their claws through armor joints to pierce flesh, the soldiers didn't falter. They swung enchanted weapons from the Babylonian Treasury, each engraved with ancient patterns, driving their blades into the advancing Laḫmu without pause.
As more Laḫmu poured over the wall, each armored warrior on the eastern front bore the weight of three or four enemies at once. Their thick armor was now battered—defensive arrays shattered, metal punctured into a sieve of ragged holes.
Dried blood, shredded flesh, and clumps of what might've been organs clung to the armor's surface, painting it in grotesque swaths of red and black.
"Die… die!"
"They're not dying? The enemy… isn't dying?"
The Laḫmu's broken whispers were laced with confusion and mounting rage.
They saw it clearly—every time a claw was withdrawn, the bloody wound would immediately sprout granulation tissue, healing rapidly.
The soldiers in heavy armor would then lunge forward, weapons chipped and cracked, fighting back with even greater frenzy.
This unit of hundreds actually held the line at the eastern breach against wave after wave of thousands of Laḫmu. The Children of Mystery, after breaking through the northern wall, could advance no further. Both sides were now locked in a brutal stalemate.
"Are those... the Kutha?"
Inside the Royal Palace's Divine Tower, Merlin stared in surprise at the Magecraft array, recognizing these ferocious warriors from their chants.
"Could the Goddess of the Underworld have granted immortality to that many?"
"Ere controls death, but bestowing immortality is beyond her domain," Samael said, shaking his head slightly. From his pocket, he pulled a small empty vial and tossed it onto the sand table, a faint smile on his lips.
"It's the Herb of Immortality."
"King Gilgamesh harvested all that remained of it during his last voyage."
"I had the Sacrificial Grounds brew it into a magic potion, and selected a group of Kutha to take it."
"They aren't truly immortal, but the self-healing effect—when combined with the Babylonian Treasury's weapons and armor—makes them a formidable asset in a war like this."
Moreover, the Kutha, devout followers of Ereshkigal, saw the potion as a divine miracle—her sacred blessing.
Having glimpsed the underworld in their suspended state, they now fought without fear. To live is to fight for the goddess; to die is to return to her embrace.
This secret force, held in reserve by the Ancient Serpent, was even more terrifying than Leonidas' Spartan phalanx.
Heh... Maybe the gods had the Ancient Serpent devour Gilgamesh's Herb of Immortality back then because they feared what humanity could become if granted eternal life—feared that they'd challenge divine authority.
But if that's the case, then the very thing you fear… can become our weapon.
The Shepherd King gazed down at the battlefield, eyes dim, and pushed several white pieces on the sand table forward, reinforcing the northern line.
Leonidas, who trained them, gave these warriors a new name—Immortal Army.
Once the nemesis of Sparta and a nightmare across the Greek world, this force now stood reborn. And perhaps, just as the Persian Empire that would one day field the true Immortal Army arose from Mesopotamian soil, so too did this army.
Coincidence? Or something more?
...
As Samael sank into thought, the ground rumbled. The southern gate collapsed with a roar, and a torrent of mud surged in, carrying a dense mass of Laḫmu straight into Uruk.
Buildings on either side crumbled as black monstrosities flooded in, cackling and sniffing for the scent of the living, swarming toward the Divine Tower near the palace.
They're here.
The Ancient Serpent lifted his eyelids slightly, nudging several white beast-headed pieces onto the main roads leading to the Divine Tower.
At the same moment, rooftops shook with rattling tiles. Jaguar Warriors dove from above, crashing into the Laḫmu hordes to hold them back from the central plaza.
Samael narrowed his eyes, gazing at the sand table where black and white pieces wove together in a tangled formation, his expression inscrutable.
If the enemy has intelligence—if they can recognize allies as they did when saving the Bull of Heaven—then perhaps this tug-of-war can buy them a little more time.
After all, he had thrown open the gates and even sacrificed the walls.
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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