"I ask for nothing less! I'll skewer you with my spear without a moment's hesitation! —But, before that, just one thing. ...Rikka."
Ereshkigal turned to Rikka. Her face was a mask of agony and grief.
"It's okay, Ereshkigal."
"Thank you. For an eternity beyond reckoning, I have managed the souls of the dead here. Without joy, without pleasure, without sadness, without friends... I have watched my other half soar through the sky as free as the wind. And now—you question my 'sin'? Only now do you point a finger and say that gathering souls was wrong?"
Ereshkigal was earnest. She was pouring her heart out to the first human friend she had ever made.
"I have performed this task all alone... for so long. Will no one... will no one ever praise my efforts?"
Rikka listened, nodded, and then spoke with piercing honesty.
"Of course not. I won't pretend to 'understand' your suffering. I refuse to offer you such an insult."
"...What?"
"I'm not a goddess, I've never been truly alone, and I've never lived in the Underworld! If I stood there with a knowing look and said 'Ereshkigal, you did nothing wrong,' I'd be a liar! That would be the ultimate mockery! I have no right to say 'Good job working so hard' or 'You're such a good worker.' To say that would be to belittle everything you've endured!"
"Rikka..."
"What I offer you instead is 'Respect' and 'Gratitude'! Respect for Ereshkigal herself—the one who kept fighting in this darkness and never ran away! You were doing something truly unique, something no one else could possibly replicate! And—"
Rikka stepped forward, her voice ringing out.
"Gratitude for giving the dead a place to belong, for letting their souls rest instead of leaving them in terror! Ereshkigal! —Thank you for changing 'death' from something to be feared into something else!"
Rikka had seen through it. She knew the true intent of this kind, thoughtful, hardworking goddess.
"And—'If a friend falls into darkness, I will correct them with all my soul!' That is my pride and my resolve! —Now, take up your spear, Ereshkigal! We are going to crush your stubbornness here and now!!"
Rikka's roar shook the Underworld. She was clad in the armor of the Evils of Humanity—forged of resolve and determination.
"My Master is not so foolish as to praise the obvious. One may lament their circumstances. One may seek a different path. But—to disparage the duties one has fulfilled is an evil. To offer empty praise for it is, above all else—an insult to Ereshkigal herself."
(Above all—you must never say 'I understand' so lightly. The only thing worthy of praise is the greatness of her achievement.)
The King of Heroes spoke of truth and psychology, while Enkidu murmured softly.
(And that is why... precisely because she knows and acknowledges that pain... she chose to fight.)
To refuse the easy reconciliation. To choose conflict. To respect and honor the opponent... and through that, to grasp a true understanding.
That was the Master's battle. That was the Master's resolve.
—I still have... so much to learn from the Master.
"Indeed. Now—having been struck where it hurts, Ereshkigal will not stay silent. —However."
Ereshkigal's face flushed for a moment at Rikka's words, but she quickly regained the cold, resolute expression of the Goddess of the Underworld.
"—Very well! If that is your answer—then I shall stand before you and grant you your ordeal!"
Her form swelled, transforming into a gargantuan Galula Spirit, radiating waves of cold that threatened to freeze the very soul.
"I am Ereshkigal, Goddess of the Underworld! I shall kill you—and finally claim a soul that truly understands me!"
[Everyone! Here she comes! Prepare for battle!!]
Now, in the deepest reaches of the abyss—
"First, I kill you! I'll kill you! And after that, you will listen to what I have to say—! This is the responsibility to be fulfilled by the only human who chose to oppose me while knowing who I am—!"
The battle for the soul began.
"Enemy type identified! A swarm of Galula Spirits is appearing! Plus, a blizzard is closing in on you!"
Countless evil spirits surged from behind Ereshkigal, filling the Underworld. A chill wind howled—so cold it bypassed frostbite, threatening to make flesh brittle enough to shatter.
"Rikka! No matter what, I will lock you away! I'll keep you inside my spear forever, so that no one can ever hurt you again!"
Countless spear-cages erupted from the earth, racing toward Rikka with singular intent.
[Ishtar, stay by Mash! Mash, guard against the blizzard with your shield! King of Heroes, intercept the Galula Spirits! Wise King, use your magecraft to secure our body temperatures and environment!]
Rikka's orders flew. The team moved as one.
Mash took the lead, slamming her shield into the ground. She anchored herself against the polar gale, protecting the "flame of life" behind her from the freezing winds of the abyss.
—Commencing selection! Focus on the holy armaments selected during the Orleans singularity! King of Heroes! Fire!
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