Chapter 41: The Underworld Never Needs Flowers
When he faced the Bull of Heaven, Rowe had deliberately shut off the blessing Ereshkigal had placed on him.
If he had not done that, he would never have managed to die at all. Even after pushing himself to exhaustion and taking the Bull of Heaven's furious charge head on, as long as his body remained even partly intact he would have only passed out for a while.
But now?
Now he was dead.
And the scene in front of him, the one he was currently forced to witness, was equal parts amusing and maddening.
Even though he had already guessed this was how it would go.
"Why… why aren't you saying anything?"
The goddess seated before him, Ereshkigal, grew inexplicably shy under his silent stare.
Did he notice?
Did he notice that she had been watching him all this time?
Ereshkigal had met Rowe once before, and ever since then she had been waiting for the chance to see him again. As the ruler who constantly faced the souls of the dead, she could touch the purest parts of a person the moment life ended. In that sense she was the most human of the gods.
And, in another sense, she was just a lonely girl.
Easily moved.
Even easier to cling to a sudden impulse of emotion.
When she remembered what had happened last time, that closeness that left no space between skin and skin, her heart started racing again.
Worry, fear, shyness, hesitation, and beneath all of it a dangerous desire to feel that warmth again.
But even after learning Rowe's "feelings," she still feared that what she had done before might have disgusted him. So she had not appeared in front of him again.
Instead, she watched.
From the deepest reaches of the Underworld.
From within her own temple.
If she had not been watching, she never could have pulled Rowe here the very instant he died.
He must have chosen death to meet her, right?
Otherwise, why would he refuse her immortality blessing?
Even though she knew thinking this way was shamelessly self centered, a maiden's heart never stopped dreaming.
"That's right."
Rowe said it plainly, because he could see exactly where her thoughts were spiraling.
"Eh?"
Ereshkigal froze, then her face flushed red all at once.
"I came to invite you, Ereshkigal."
Since he could not die for real, he could not tell her to let him die. Saying that outright would immediately attract the Counter Force's attention.
So he had to think about the next opening.
Or maybe a way to die without entering the Underworld at all.
But right now…
"Come with me again, to the human world."
Rowe smiled.
He would use this chance to do something else.
…
When Rowe opened his eyes again, he could not help but stiffen.
He was still lying where his "corpse" had fallen after the battle with the Bull of Heaven.
The land that had been purged of drought now surged with life. Lush green spread once more across the plain.
Time ran differently between the Underworld and the surface.
When he died, dusk had been sliding down the horizon.
Now what greeted him was morning, the rising sun.
Before him were countless eyes.
Countless people.
They surrounded him in a wide circle, kneeling as if in pilgrimage.
"Lord Rowe, you're awake?"
The moment his eyelids lifted, someone called out.
Like a boulder dropped into water, the crowd erupted.
"It's true, that old man was right!"
People shouted, trembling with joy.
"Lord Rowe, thank you for sacrificing your life to save us!"
Rowe quickly helped an old man to his feet.
"Lord Rowe, please accept our gifts…"
Someone was trying to lead a cow forward and looked helpless about where to put it.
It took only a few exchanges for Rowe to understand the situation.
These were the people who had suffered under the Bull of Heaven's drought, the survivors who had witnessed his last moments. They had come from every direction.
The line about "the old man was right" was equally easy to trace.
"It was the old man who traveled with you," a young man explained. "He said your death was only temporary. He said you were a hero protected by the gentle Goddess of the Underworld, a light death would not accept."
"He said you would return with the rising sun on the second day."
"Oh, and he asked me to tell you that he will act when the time is right, so you should rest easy."
So it was Ziusudra.
That old man had seen the blessing on Rowe long ago. He knew Rowe could not truly die, which was why he had waited without intervening.
Rowe did not dwell on it.
"You don't need to thank me that much."
He waved a hand.
"If not for the protection of the Goddess of the Underworld, Ereshkigal, I would not have dared to do this."
Smoothly, he pushed the credit toward the goddess he had just spoken to.
The people still thanked Rowe, but now they also offered sincere gratitude to the deity so many had forgotten.
Rowe raised his head.
You can come now.
He did not speak aloud, but the thought flowed through the Key he had once given Ereshkigal and reached her like a whisper.
Using that Key, he opened the Underworld again, a thin crack leading to the surface.
The cold breath of the Underworld spilled out.
And from that breath…
A figure in a red robe stepped forward.
Ereshkigal descended in person.
It was something she had never dared to imagine, much less achieve.
But in the brief exchange after Rowe invited her, she had realized she could.
Because of the Key he had given her.
The Key of Heaven's authority was "Door."
And with it, Ereshkigal could temporarily turn the Underworld's aura into a gate between realms.
She was descending, yet still remaining within the scope of the Underworld.
That was why Rowe had called her.
And now she arrived, full of anticipation.
So full of anticipation that she crashed straight into his arms.
Wait. Arms?
Ereshkigal froze.
Golden hair scattered in the air. Her soft body pressed against him, warm and real. The crown of thorns on her head tilted, and her crimson eyes widened behind loose strands of hair.
Then, a blush flooded her cheeks, and her heartbeat went wild.
She had wanted closeness again, yes, but this was too direct.
Who would open a door on his own body like that?
No one knew.
Not even the Goddess of the Underworld.
Thump, thump, thump.
Rowe felt the violent heartbeat through their embrace and nearly turned to stone.
He had not done it on purpose either.
He was the Key of Heaven itself. When he activated his authority, the door naturally opened on him, the same way a person reflexively raises their right hand.
No thought required.
Still…
"Don't move."
Rowe said it with a sigh.
Ereshkigal's breathing hitched at once.
Shyness made her body sway. As her slender waist twisted, the curve of her hips pressed down, brushing something that should not be brushed.
Rowe was still a man. Some instincts did not care about composure.
"You… you, shameless… wah!"
She tried to scold him, but her voice was too soft and flustered. She even bit her tongue mid word, cheeks puffing up in wounded embarrassment.
Rowe could not help letting out a laugh.
"Hmph ha ha… cough. No, wrong sound."
He choked, almost infected by Gilgamesh's habit.
Then it was Ereshkigal's turn to laugh.
"Rowe… you're very interesting."
She finally relaxed enough to look up. Her jade like eyes met his directly, red glow trembling inside them.
Around them, murmurs spread.
"Is something in Lord Rowe's arms?"
"It looks like it, but I can't see clearly, like… a god?"
"Wait. Lord Rowe just returned from the Underworld. Could that be the Goddess of the Underworld, Ereshkigal?"
Mortals could not look directly upon a god. To them, what had flown into Rowe's arms was only a blurred shadow.
But in this age, faith in gods still saturated the world. Some people pieced it together from the clues.
Those whispers startled Ereshkigal again. She shrank back instinctively, wanting to flee.
Rowe caught her hand.
"Look at them," he said. "Don't be afraid. They won't be afraid of you either."
Since dying was no longer on the table, letting things unfold was fine. And pushing Ereshkigal to step out of her own shadow was not a bad thing.
Not afraid?
Indeed, she did not hear the old cries of fear or hatred.
Ereshkigal turned her head, cautiously.
What met her were faces no longer sallow with drought. They looked at her with gratitude.
Death was not terror to them now.
Because Rowe had saved them under the protection of the Goddess of the Underworld.
"Goddess of the Underworld, Ereshkigal, you are a great and compassionate god. You saved our lives. We are willing to offer you our faith."
Ereshkigal went still.
Once, she had been a lonely ruler, reviled by all, sealed forever in the dark.
Once, she had been forgotten. No one remembered her, much less believed in her.
But now someone thanked her.
Someone believed in her.
Because death was not only cold silence.
Because even without sun, the Underworld could hold warmth.
Because accepting death could make hope more precious.
"Thank you…"
Ereshkigal murmured.
She stepped out of Rowe's arms and faced the crowd properly.
Rowe folded his arms and watched. He felt a faint regret at the sudden loss of warmth and fragrance, yet also thought this was right.
It was a good scene.
"Rowe."
Ereshkigal turned back to him. Something in her had changed.
Her voice was steadier.
Her posture was brighter.
"You believe in me too, don't you? In me, Ereshkigal."
Rowe nodded on reflex.
Of course he could not say no.
But for some reason she looked almost… confident now.
And a little assertive.
"Then, in the name of Ereshkigal, Goddess of the Underworld, I make a demand of you, Rowe, my believer."
She walked closer. Golden hair flowed. Red robes stirred in the breeze.
Her pale legs carried her without hesitation. Her lifted face was flawless, her crimson eyes filled only with him.
She took his hand first.
"I want you…"
She paused, cheeks pink but eyes unflinching.
"To go on a date with me."
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