Uruk.
Thanks to the wise rule of its past kings, Uruk had flourished more splendidly than any neighboring realm.
Its royal palace, symbol of authority, was lavish beyond imagination—built with techniques so refined they would not reappear for millennia. Rare materials unique to the Age of Gods lent it an otherworldly brilliance.
Only the temples across from it—manifestations of divine power—could rival its grandeur.
Inside that vast golden palace, the great hall shimmered with light, yet the brilliance only heightened the quiet solitude of the lone figure seated at its center.
The figure looked like a girl of about fourteen.
Her features were delicate as a fairy's, her sharp ears betraying her inhuman nature. The only flaw in that almost fragile beauty was the pair of half-lidded dark-gray eyes, glazed and unfocused—as if her mind had long since drifted elsewhere.
Ophis—or perhaps, more precisely now, Ophis, King of Uruk.
By the time she regained consciousness, she had already replaced the original Hero King, becoming Uruk's sovereign.
[Inserting you into existence while making everyone believe you've always existed—that's what I did.]
Inori had said simply.
That must've been difficult… or so Ophis assumed.
But through Inori's mysterious power, the transition had been flawless. Ophis could only feel a detached sort of admiration.
She understood nothing of the method. And since arriving in this world, Inori's presence had vanished again—no doubt asleep.
Still, one thing reassured her: the infinite power within her remained untouched.
A faint tremor ran through her body as clarity flickered back into her dull gray eyes.
Slowly, she rose to her feet. Her waterfall-black hair flowed freely behind her as she adjusted the wide sleeves of her black robe and turned toward the doorway.
"Something wrong?"
"My king, today's treasures have arrived; please inspect them."
"Bring them in. Just put them… wherever."
Servants filed in, carrying weapons that gleamed with a sharp, restrained aura. Among them, a young priestess in ceremonial garb knelt before Ophis.
"My king, please—stop isolating yourself in your own world and look upon your people! They need your wisdom and guidance!"
Having delivered her daily admonition, the priestess looked up at the blank-faced girl—who seemed deaf to her words—and sighed.
This new king… she's cute, but is she really planning to keep ignoring everything?
Her attire—plain black robes with a few golden patterns reluctantly added under the priestess's urging—hardly carried any royal dignity. Combined with her perpetually dazed expression, she had none of a ruler's aura.
Yet she was the king, and the priestess only a minor clergy member. With even the High Priest silent, all she could do was bow and withdraw as usual.
Ophis watched them leave, her expression unchanged.
As for this "Hero King," she could glean only vague traces of knowledge from her inherited memories.
Still, whether by historical record or draconic instinct, hoarding treasures was always the right choice.
Governing a nation, though…
Her knowledge contained detailed statecraft, and with her intellect, she could easily rule if she wished. Uruk was only a city-state, after all.
But to Ophis, such matters—unrelated to defeating Great Red—were a meaningless waste of time and effort.
It wasn't that she was heartless—or at least, she didn't think so—only that her judgment was pragmatic.
She traced a few lines in the air, sending out faint ripples.
While she lacked direct control over space, her origin as an Ouroboros born in the Dimensional Gap granted her a natural affinity with void and distance. Combined with the magic of this era, she could at least create a small pocket-space for storage.
One by one, she sent the treasures into that invisible gap, then sat down again.
For now, all her training in energy control had to remain internal.
Though she refused to waste time on politics, Ophis at least understood her surroundings well enough not to destroy them.
If she released even a fraction of her power outside her body, she couldn't guarantee Uruk's survival.
...
A city's prosperity was inseparable from the conduct of its ruler. Though people of this age held stronger communal bonds than those of later eras, even Uruk—the mightiest of the city-states—could not remain untouched by decline under a monarch who utterly ignored governance.
As Uruk weakened, the neighboring city-states that had long envied its wealth began to stir. One particularly impatient rival finally launched an invasion.
Outside the grand hall of the palace, a group of priests and officials knelt on the ground.
"My king! The enemy has invaded our lands—please issue your command at once!"
The young priestess leading them wore a desperate expression, her tone respectful yet urgent as she bowed deeply.
In Uruk, only the king held the authority to mobilize the army.
But would this apathetic new ruler even care enough to act?
She had to… right? Their homeland was under attack!
They remained kneeling for what felt like forever. The priestess's worry only grew, to the point she began wondering if she should risk taking responsibility and mobilize the troops herself—anything to spare the innocent citizens from slaughter.
Just as that thought took hold, the massive doors of the hall creaked open.
She actually came out!?
Relief washed over the priestess. If the king personally ordered a mobilization, Uruk might yet be saved.
"The enemy—where are they?"
"Eh?"
The priestess blinked, startled. Based on past experience, she'd expected the king to give a single vague command and then retreat into indifference. But now… she was asking for details?
Was the king finally showing concern for her own city-state? The priestess felt a flicker of hope.
"Ah, um, according to the latest reports, the enemy's positioned several dozen kilometers north of Uruk. They should arrive soon, so next—eh?"
Her voice faltered.
Ophis was gone.
"Priestess…" one of the officials behind her spoke cautiously. "Just now, the king… seemed to have flown off directly toward the north…"
"…"
The priestess fell silent.
Was the king planning to confront the invading army alone?
She wasn't particularly afraid—the gods themselves had appointed this king. Possessing overwhelming power wouldn't be surprising at all.
However…
North was only a general direction. If you just flew straight north, you'd completely miss the enemy!!!