The King of Heroes cast a long, quiet glance over the altar—and in that instant, he understood.
Behind him, thousands of golden whirlpools surged into being, their brilliance gradually bound together by red-and-black light patterns, weaving like the roots of a World Tree.
That supreme treasure of mankind—the miraculous power spanning humanity's past and future—flowed into Gilgamesh's hands, gathering in the sword he slowly drew: Ea.
"Recount the beginning…
When heaven and earth were first born, even nothingness offered its tribute…
With my Ea, I shall rend the world apart!"
The King of Heroes moved his lips, chanting in a voice like song.
As Ea rose slowly into the air, the red-and-black column of its core began to spin, drawing in every particle of Ether around it. A crushing wave of distortion spread outward at terrifying speed.
Is this humanity's final, desperate struggle?
Fools.
I… am eternal.
Apsu gazed down coldly, filled with disdain for the Ether storm Gilgamesh had unleashed with all his might.
Gilgamesh's brow furrowed slightly. Raising Ea to its peak, he delivered the final, resounding verse of his incantation.
"Encircling the mortar of the stars, the hell in the heavens marks the end of the night before creation—Enuma Elish!"
A strange smile curved his lips. He whirled around.
In that instant, the red-and-black Ether storm Ea had unleashed surged into an all-consuming torrent, shooting skyward to strike the void anchor created by the Great Offering.
Crack! Crack!
Within a hundred miles, storms and thunder shattered beneath the torrent's force. From the heavens came the sharp, piercing sound of breaking glass.
From the anchor point, spiderweb fractures veined with red and black raced outward for kilometers. The sky itself, like a mirror struck by stone, splintered and fell apart.
The wall of the world was broken.
"My target was never you."
"So tell me, mongrel, what are you so proud of?"
Gilgamesh's cold smile brimmed with mockery.
A shiver that made Apsu's scales rise rippled through the great Ether dragon. Snarling, he opened his jaws, gathering a beam of mana.
He would annihilate the insolent ants who had mocked him again and again, along with their three pathetic ships, erasing them completely in a flood of Ether.
He knew this heavenly wedge, after repeated outbursts, had exhausted its mana. Like a tower of blocks stripped of its main pillar, it would fall with the slightest push.
And the ship… was crewed by nothing but the old, the weak, and the wounded.
Now, nothing remained that could stop the final judgment of all things.
"Aaaaaa!!!!"
But at the very moment the breath of destruction was about to be unleashed, a song—joyful and filled with a mother's compassion—resounded across the vault of the heavens.
From the darkness and void, the gem-bright Goddess of Beginning descended, wings unfurling to shield against the red-and-black torrent.
Tiamat… Tiamat!
Impossible! Impossible!
Apsu hovered in midair, staring at the shadow upon the waters. His mind reeled with frantic mutters, eyes wide in disbelief.
It worked… Mother Goddess!
In the main cabin, Samael collapsed to his knees, utterly spent. He gazed in rapture at the towering, protective figure, struck the altar with his fist, and burst into triumphant laughter.
Enuma Elish—more than a Babylonian epic recounting primordial chaos and tracing the divine foundation of the Mother Goddess Tiamat—was also the first utterance of "The Separation of Heaven and Earth, the Star of Creation."
And Ea, in Gilgamesh's hands, was a Divine Construct built to wound the world itself.
In other words, Ea was nothing less than the key to open the wall of the world from within.
If this world rejected Tiamat's return, then humanity would open the door themselves—and extend the invitation.
Thunderous pillars of wind exploded in the heavens. Above the deep, churning flood, the two Creator Gods clashed in a cataclysmic collision.
Intersecting pillars of light split the world apart, torrents of raging Ether detonated in every direction, and their mingled powers painted the sky in a dazzling aurora.
But Gilgamesh, who had stood before Apsu only moments before, was now spent. Caught in the grip of a frenzied hurricane vortex, he was like a small boat in a storm—threatened with capsizing at any moment.
"Watch out!"
Seeing the King of Heroes about to be swallowed by the towering waves surging in from all sides, Samael—now the only one still able to move—shouted a sharp warning.
In the next instant, the Ancient Serpent transformed into a wyvern, plunging into the flood-laden wind columns. At the last possible moment, he caught the falling Gilgamesh and hauled him back onto Noah's Ark, whose magecraft barrier still held.
The raging Ether tides only grew fiercer, their swaying ever more violent.
No sooner had Samael landed with Gilgamesh through the fissure above than the waiting magi rushed to summon materials from the sacrificial grounds. They sealed the breach, repaired the deck, and reinforced the barrier.
On the altar, the two kings of Uruk exchanged a glance—one of mutual respect and recognition.
They both nodded, stepping in unison toward the observation cabin to watch the battle.
No words were needed.
"Aaaa!"
From the darkness came a solemn, resounding chant, and two rays—one crimson, one azure—flashed from the cross-shaped pupils.
The Red Star Pupil. The Blue Star Pupil.
Two gifts of the Mother Goddess: one a curse upon life, the other the power to break it down.
These beams, radiant with the ultimate hues, tore through the chaos. Where their brilliance passed, the storm clouds and thunder fields in the heavens were split into deep, narrow rifts.
That boundless destructive force swept into the darkness, whipping it into a cutting storm that scattered the stagnating Ether turbulence. The searing light patterns carved through the gloom, their reach expanding ever outward.
In their wake, the clouds broke, the thunder withdrew, and the heavy, oppressive air filled with the vivid sense of creation's dawn—life poised to emerge anew.
"Boom!"
The Ether Dragon Apsu, struck head-on, was torn open with countless wounds. Its colossal body hurtled back hundreds of meters before breaking apart into a receding black tide.
But before the crew of Noah's Ark—holding their breath as they watched—could celebrate, an even greater shadow rose from the abyss.
Its gaping maw suddenly fired a red-and-black mana beam from below, catching Tiamat off guard. With a mournful cry, the Mother Goddess was blasted backward by the destructive force.
Several of her jade-green scales shattered, and gaping wounds burst across her body.
Fortunately, the moment she lifted herself from the freshwater currents into the open air, the Mother of Genesis's healing authority took hold, sealing the injuries in an instant.
Mother… you must win!
The helpless humans could only gaze from afar at the monstrous figure fighting on their behalf.
Beneath the flickering light, they knelt, clutching their statues with pale-knuckled hands, whispering prayers with the deepest devotion of their lives.
Yet after several clashes between the two creator gods, it became clear: though Tiamat held the greater divine power, the battlefield's water-bound terrain meant she could only drive back the Ether Dragon that Apsu had become—never utterly destroy it.
If this stalemate dragged on into a war of attrition, Apsu's complete control over the world's waters would only tilt the advantage further in his favor.
"Mother Goddess! Apsu has shed his true body and buried his divine foundation deep in the abyssal earth!
What stands before us is merely a construct shaped by his authority, stripped of the concept of 'life.'
Expel his divine core and divinity from the depths! Force him into a new life, and bind him in the shackles of flesh!
Then… destroy this monster completely!"
The urgent roar cut through the battlefield, carried aloft by the magecraft array running at full power.
Apsu froze mid-attack, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Impossible! Impossible!
Mere humans… cannot know of my existence!
Sensing the words' source, the Mother of Origins turned to the small vessel amid the flood.
"His divine foundation lies in Eridu—the Temple of Ea!"
In the observation cabin, the Ancient Serpent bared his teeth in a feral grin, raising high the broken clay tablet Kukulkan had brought.
Heh… a god of creation?
Did you really think humans would do nothing but cower behind their walls, never seeking your true weakness?
Time to meet your end, mongrel.
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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