"Spiritual foundation reaction confirmed!"
At that moment, Da Vinci's voice came from Chaldea.
"We've reached it?"
Ishtar raised her gaze.
Rozen, however, was already staring straight ahead—toward the Black Sea.
There, at some point, a figure had appeared.
She stood upon the Black Sea, as though at the very center of everything.
Suspended above the ocean, she was like the very deity of the sea.
That figure upon the Black Sea—her true nature was that of a goddess.
Her form was alluring, clad only in a thin garb seemingly woven of draconic scales, covering no more than the barest essentials. Her skin was pale as pearl, radiating sanctity and maternal warmth.
Her long, azure hair flowed like the sea itself, cascading to her ankles—dense, yet without a hint of disorder, exuding only a vast, expansive beauty.
And yet, despite her loveliness, she bore a pair of great horns like those of dragons or beasts. Her eyes gleamed as if reflecting the starry sea.
At first glance, she was the Earth Mother Goddess of myth, the one who birthed all life upon the land—gentle, holy, suffused with maternal divinity—enchanting beyond measure.
"That is…"
Everyone in Chaldea held their breath.
"Tiamat…"
Rozen, too, fixed his gaze upon her.
He had not expected Tiamat to be such a beautiful goddess.
But he knew—this was the very being whom both gods and men had branded a nightmare.
The Evils of Humanity, the Beast of Original Sin, the cataclysm that could annihilate all mankind—rejected by the Age of Man, abandoned even by the gods.
For her silhouette was identical to the weeping figure Rozen had long glimpsed within the Black Sea through Mind's Eye.
Now, face-to-face, he finally understood why Roman had said her mana rivaled his own.
Tiamat's mana already surpassed that of seven Holy Grails combined. Here in the Age of Gods, her Authorities gnawed ceaselessly at the sea.
As the very incarnation of the ocean, she now claimed for herself the True Ether of Mesopotamia's most vital waters.
By that alone, she might well possess the might of an entire age.
Her mana rivaled his own past self.
Roman, of course, could not know that Rozen's reserves, after his recent weakness, had multiplied tenfold—approaching true infinity. Even if Tiamat's scale matched his former power, she could not equal him as he was now.
Of course, sheer mana did not determine victory.
Tiamat was a Beast—an apocalypse fit only for the Grand Servants to oppose. Rozen would not delude himself into thinking she was his to easily subdue.
And yet, one anomaly caught his eye.
Looking closer, he saw chains upon her.
Bindings like shackles, restraining her hands and feet, leaving her able only to move her body and head.
"What… is this?"
Rozen frowned.
At that moment, Ishtar spoke beside him.
"She hasn't even noticed us yet. Cold-hearted, isn't she? Her 'children' are right here, and she doesn't even look."
Eyes still locked on Tiamat, Ishtar went on.
"But this is also my first time facing Mother directly. I see now… why the gods abandoned her."
Tiamat was the womb of creation, birthing gods, heaven, and earth alike.
To her, everything was her child.
But once her duty of creation was fulfilled, she was fated to be cast aside.
"In Sumerian myth, Mother was slain by the gods. But in truth, it's a little different."
Ishtar's voice spread softly.
"Rather than slain, she was abandoned—cast away by the very world she had borne."
When the planet's environment was still unsettled, when its ecosystem had yet to form, Tiamat was needed. She created, she gave life.
But once stability came, once the system of life was complete, she was no longer necessary.
"Because Mother knows only creation and birth. Even with the world stable, she would still create, still give birth. And that would endanger everything."
With the Tree of Life in place, humanity could grow.
But if Tiamat, who could spawn the "next world," were allowed free, she would endanger that fragile foundation.
After laying the groundwork, who would allow her to endlessly pile up more? If she kept pouring new foundations into the earth, the tower could never be built.
Worse, each foundation, each system, would clash for survival—endless war among countless races. Civilization itself could never thrive.
Thus Tiamat was branded unnecessary, exiled to the Imaginary Numbers space—the reverse side of the world where no life could exist—never to return.
"But now, here she is again."
This was the Beast that embodied the Principle of Return—Beast II.
Having returned, there was only one thing she would do.
Obey her instincts. Exterminate humanity. Overhaul the ecosystem of Earth.
Resume her role as Mother of All, birthing and shaping once again.
"For Solomon to drag something this dangerous back from the Imaginary Numbers space… he's insane. He's a Grand Caster, isn't he? If you're Grand, then fulfill your duty and slay the Beast instead of this madness!"
Ishtar's voice was thick with scorn.
Roman's voice came next, grim.
"Regardless—Tiamat is a being this planet can no longer harbor. She must be destroyed… or forced once more into slumber."
That was the task before them.
Rozen gathered his thoughts, ready to speak—when again he was cut off.
For a simple reason.
"Rozen!"
"Rozen!"
Ishtar and the staff in Chaldea all cried out at once, sharp with tension.
"...!"
Rozen jolted, whipping his head back toward Tiamat.
And saw—
Tiamat was looking at him.