The pursuit of immortality, in itself, was no disgrace.
But his Clairvoyance had once shown him an unalterable future, and to Gilgamesh, life and death held little meaning. Now, however, the answers were no longer etched upon the Tablet of Destinies.
In that case, seizing this power of immortality to win more chances for his nation and his people was something he could accept without hesitation.
Bang!
On Noah's Ark No. 1, the green-haired beauty who had barely managed to summon the Chains of Heaven caught his dearest friend, rolling with him across the deck to bleed off the impact.
The moment Gilgamesh rose to his feet, he saw that the cracks across Enkidu's body had deepened, as if the next moment would shatter him completely.
Beyond the northern wall, the Great Dragon of Ether had already crossed the defensive line and was slowly making its way toward the Divine Tower of the royal palace, steeped in the aura of Tiamat.
The King of Heroes' expression hardened. He moved to take to the skies in interception—only for several hands to hold him firmly in place.
The Herb of Immortality was, after all, no more than a potion that granted humans abnormal vitality. Against the creator god Apsu, its effects were severely limited. Regrowing a severed limb was already the extent of its miracle.
And this Father of All Things was also the divine spirit who ruled over both the abyss and destruction.
If Apsu chose to target him directly, that fragment of immortality would never withstand even a single attack.
Besides, Gilgamesh had already reached his limit. Forcing himself further would be nothing but suicide.
...
Meanwhile, inside the Divine Tower of the royal palace, Samael's trembling hand struck the sand table as he stared at the monstrous silhouette drawing ever closer.
"All survivors—have they all boarded the ships?"
"No. We need at least another ten minutes! And if we count the time to sail beyond Uruk's inner city, we'll have to hold for twenty!"
Merlin, stationed in the tower to project a simulated aura of Tiamat, spoke in a dry, strained voice.
"Twenty minutes? Enkidu, Gilgamesh, and Kukulkan are all gravely injured, barely clinging to life. The only one still able to move is Ishtar. What exactly do you expect me to use to hold them back?"
Samael felt as if his heart would burst from his chest. His entire body trembled under the crushing pressure, his voice growing more ragged and irritable.
"There's no other way. There are too many Laḫmu outside. The defenders have to both cover the refugees boarding and clear the river. They can't possibly hold the line."
"Forcing a retreat now would mean unacceptable losses."
A vein throbbed on Merlin's forehead, his eyes flashing with frustration.
"Who else do we have left?"
"Siduri! The Astrology Tower, the Shrine of the Priestesses, the Temple, the Armory, the Sacrificial Grounds—anyone who can still fight, get them all on the ships!"
Samael's fingers tightened around the scattered pieces on the sand table as he called out names one by one.
"Siduri! Sid—"
"Don't bother. Ten minutes ago, the High Priestess led the last remaining forces from the outer perimeter of the Divine Tower to assist in person. We haven't heard from her since."
"Right now, there's no one left in the royal palace but the two of us."
Merlin pressed a hand to his forehead with a weary sigh, brows drawn tight.
Boom!
The ground shook violently as Ishtar, piloting Maanna, the Boat of Heaven, flew above Apsu's head, unleashing shot after shot in an attempt to slow the Father of Creation's advance—but the effort barely made a difference.
After a brief silence, Samael drew in a deep breath and slammed his fist onto the sand table.
"Then you go!"
"Within ten minutes, clear the route and get everyone aboard!"
"And… find Siduri. Protect her."
The white-haired Incubus pointed to the Great Dragon of Ether looming barely four or five hundred meters away, his expression stiff.
"You know the moment the Illusion Arts barrier around the Divine Tower is lifted, Apsu will lock onto you—and even a sneeze from him could vaporize you instantly."
"We have no other choice! Move! If you delay any longer, it will be too late!"
Samael pounded the table again, his voice a thunderous command as he looked down at the great magus.
"Also—take this."
Merlin caught the royal seal flung toward him. He glanced at Samael's backlit figure standing over the sand table, then clenched his teeth, transformed into a streak of light, and shot toward the southern sector.
At once, petals of soft pink and white, shimmering with dreamlike hues, began to bloom upon the river's surface, spreading in an instant to cover its full breadth.
The Laḫmu clearing the outskirts and tightening their encirclement around the Divine Tower drifted into strange dreams, floating atop the water as though fast asleep.
"Take this chance—everyone on board!"
Cornered by several Laḫmu, Siduri instantly grasped the situation. She scooped up a child and urgently directed those trapped nearby to evacuate.
At the same time, the survivors gathered in the plaza, seeing the danger around them forced back, surged toward the three Noah's Arks in a rush.
In the vast, cold hall, Samael watched the stream of people moving quickly into the distance. For some reason, the tension in his chest eased.
Truth be told, he was just an ordinary man, and he had never liked the kind of hero steeped in tragedy. At the start, the ancient serpent had never imagined he would come to such resolve—willing to gamble his life by remaining here to draw Apsu's attention.
But humans are always like this—emotional, and willing to do foolish things for all kinds of reasons.
Half a year spent among them had quietly dissolved the sense of separation he once felt toward this world. This place was no longer just a symbol in some history lesson. He remembered every street corner, every face that had greeted him with kindness.
This was his country now. His people.
If the people could bleed, then their ruler could certainly lay down his life.
As he had once said: the power of a god is granted at birth, and the duties of a god last from the beginning to the end. The same holds true for a king.
Since he had taken this throne—for the sake of guiding his people toward the return of the Mother Goddess Tiamat—he had to shoulder the responsibilities that came with it.
Besides, he had immortality. The chances of surviving were high.
If luck was on his side, that is…
Sitting before the sand table, Samael rolled the Holy Grail between his palms. Under the crushing divine might hanging over his head, the hair on the back of his neck stood straight, and he fought to suppress the temptation to use it to strengthen himself.
No. This was a hope for the future.
If he spent the Holy Grail now, even if the Noah's Arks escaped Uruk, they would never make it to the Persian Gulf.
Bang!
Just as Samael managed to rein in his emotions, a sharp detonation rang out from the side.
A battered figure, trailed by the shriek of rending air, smashed through the hall's layered Magecraft arrays, throwing up a cloud of dust and debris. Before Samael could react, the rubble buried him.
The blood-smeared, battered face that emerged was unmistakably Ishtar.
The great goddess coughed blood, her face pale as she glanced toward the rapidly darkening hole behind her.
In the next instant, a massive claw wreathed in red-black light smashed away half the hall and descended toward the staggering War Goddess.
"Maanna!"
The sharp cry had barely left her lips before the golden-and-blue Boat of Heaven moved to dive in for rescue.
But the Great Dragon of Ether beat its wings once, and Maanna was sent flying.
It's over.
As the claw came crashing down from above, helplessness settled in, and despair welled up in Ishtar's heart.
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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