The kiss upon his knuckle felt both eternal and fleeting, a paradox of divine contact. By the time Rowe's senses fully registered the event, the gentle presence before him had vanished. In her place stood the Venus Goddess, her aura radiating a familiar, prickly pride that was several degrees sharper than before.
"Hmph! You certainly got off lightly this time!" Several meters away, having deliberately re-established a safe distance, Ishtar crossed her arms over her chest, baring her teeth in a show of ferocity that didn't quite reach her eyes. The lingering blush staining her cheeks, identical to the vessel Ereshkigal had used, betrayed her inner turmoil.
Of course, she couldn't possibly be calm. Regardless of their differences, she and Ereshkigal shared the same physical vessel. After Ereshkigal's consciousness retreated back to the solitude of the Underworld, Ishtar, who had resumed control, was left to intimately experience the lingering emotional echoes of the Goddess of the Underworld's state—the fluttering heart, the warmth of affection, the shy exhilaration. It was like wearing a piece of clothing still warm from another's body, feeling a residual heat that was not her own.
"Next time—!" The more acutely she felt these foreign sensations, the more flustered and annoyed Ishtar became. "Next time, I will absolutely make you acknowledge the true beauty and supremacy of this Goddess! You'd better clean your neck and wait patiently for my judgment!"
Having delivered this standard-issue threat, Ishtar's figure shimmered and vanished into motes of golden light in the blink of an eye. The departure felt less like a majestic exit and more like a strategic, flustered retreat. She urgently needed to calm the phantom throbbing in this shared body and, more importantly, to quell the unsettling effect this borrowed emotional resonance was having on her own divine spirit. Ereshkigal had already fallen for the insolent mortal's charms. Ishtar was determined not to follow suit. That would be the ultimate humiliation—though delivering a final, face-saving threat was absolutely non-negotiable.
Rowe remained standing in the now-empty alley, the silence rushing back in. He raised a hand, his fingers gently brushing against his own lips as if the ghost of that chaste kiss still lingered. In the east, the first glimmer of dawn finally pierced the long night, casting a pale, blue-grey light over the city. He shook his head slightly; another night had passed, filled with unexpected twists. But all in all, the outcome wasn't bad.
While the Goddess of the Underworld's blessing of immunity to death's erosion posed a minor logistical problem for his long-term goals, Rowe wasn't overly concerned. There was no such thing as absolute immortality in this world. Throughout history, countless heroes blessed with invulnerability had ultimately met their ends through clever loopholes or superior force. Furthermore, he theorized he might be able to use his 'Key of Heaven' authority—the fundamental power of 'Opening' and 'Closing'—to interact with the blessing itself, potentially turning this passive, permanent state into an active skill he could toggle on and off at will. The thought kept his spirits high.
"Hmm, En-chan is probably still waiting," he murmured to himself. "I should head back."
With that thought, he took a few steps forward, paused to glance behind him at the scene of the night's peculiar events, and then finally walked away, his figure disappearing into the waking streets of Uruk as the sun began its ascent.
...
"Hmph hahaha! As expected of a talent discovered by a wise and magnificent King such as myself!"
Rowe hadn't even crossed the threshold of his residence; he was still standing outside the door when the boisterous, completely undisguised laughter assaulted his ears from within the courtyard. "Not even the reclusive Goddess of the Underworld could escape your sphere of influence! Truly a magnificent performance!"
Rowe instinctively glanced around the quiet, upscale neighborhood, a faint worry about disturbing the peace crossing his mind. Fortunately, this district was inhabited by Uruk's nobility, their residences featuring spacious courtyards and robust, thick walls that provided excellent sound insulation—though even if the King's roaring mirth did carry, it was highly unlikely anyone would dare to voice a complaint. He walked along the flat stone path, pushed the heavy wooden door open, and was greeted by the warm morning sun illuminating the spacious courtyard. Lush, well-tended greenery adorned the four corners, and perched high upon the roof's eaves like a preening, golden bird of prey, a dazzling figure stood, proclaiming his observations to the world below.
Rowe rubbed his forehead in a mixture of exasperation and fondness, then turned his head to look toward the side of the doorway, just as another figure emerged from within the house.
"Rowe, you're back?" En-chan skipped over lightly, her vibrant emerald green hair swaying with the movement. Her plain white priest's robe, which was still slightly too large for her, floated around her like a soft cloud, and her bare feet made no sound as they trod on the dewy, lush grass.
Rowe reached out and affectionately ruffled her hair, then pointed a thumb toward the figure holding court on the roof. "When did that guy... make his grand entrance?"
"Just now," En-chan replied, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Then he climbed up there and started saying a bunch of inexplicable things. Although he's very annoying," she admitted, her emerald eyes flicking upward with mild irritation, "he seems like a very interesting fellow."
It was clear Enkidu still held some lingering annoyance over Gilgamesh's previous aggressive actions. It could only be said that because Rowe had 'prevented' their destined, all-out battle, Gilgamesh and Enkidu had not reached that profound, soul-deep recognition of one another that was foretold. At this moment, the connection between the lock and the wedge was tenuous, primarily facilitated through Rowe, their shared 'key.'
"You... Hmph! How dare you ignore a great King such as myself?" Gilgamesh on the eaves, seeing that Rowe was pointedly not addressing him first, instantly bristled with theatrical displeasure. He shifted his feet and leaped directly from the several-meter height, landing as lightly and steadily as a cat upon the soft grass, his golden armor barely making a sound.
Rowe finally deigned to glance at him. "I'm not particularly interested in dealing with a madman who shows up at my door first thing in the morning and starts cackling like a hyena."
"A wild dog is indeed just a wild dog; no matter how much you polish its exterior, its uncouth nature will never change," Gilgamesh retorted with a familiar sneer.
"Indeed," Rowe fired back, his tone laced with implication. "For example, some canines simply cannot learn to communicate in a manner that ordinary, civilized people can understand." He then let his gaze sweep over the King of Uruk, who was, as usual, bare-chested and clad in his signature golden skirt armor. "Speaking of which, did you go to check on Siduri?"
"She is, after all, my most loyal and efficient tool," Gilgamesh declared, feigning lofty disdain. "If she were to truly break down, I would be inconvenienced in countless petty matters!"
"You're just being a tsundere," Rowe stated flatly, clapping his hands together as if dusting off the entire conversation. He then gestured for Enkidu to follow him into the house.
Uninvited but utterly undeterred, Gilgamesh strode in after them. Even with the magical conveniences of the Age of Gods, the furniture of this era remained simple, consisting merely of basic tables and chairs for daily needs. Rowe walked to a large water jar, dipped a clay bowl into it, and filled it with clear water, which he then handed to Gilgamesh.
"My apologies for the poor hospitality," Rowe said, though his tone wasn't particularly apologetic. "But this plain water is probably all you deserve to drink. Consider it a rinse for that mouth of yours that's been unbelievably foul since the crack of dawn."
Surprisingly, Gilgamesh didn't refuse. He took the bowl readily, a smirk playing on his lips. "On account of you, this wild dog, having just staged such an entertaining spectacle for this King, I shall not deign to quarrel with you over your impertinence!" Holding the water bowl, Gilgamesh made himself comfortable on a sturdy stone chair, then couldn't contain another bark of laughter.
His crimson eyes narrowed slightly, gleaming with amusement and sharp insight. He scrutinized Rowe, who now sat across from him, and then Enkidu, who stood dutifully behind Rowe's chair, her demeanor that of a quiet, attentive young girl. A more playful, almost mischievous smile crept onto the King's lips.
Although he hadn't been physically present for the previous night's alleyway drama, unlike during the distant forest battle, this time both parties were in the same city. For Gilgamesh, who possessed the highest grade of Clairvoyance, Sha Naqba Imuru, the events had cast ripples strong enough for him to perceive—not a clear vision, perhaps, but hazy images and resonant emotions that didn't even require actively gazing into the future to sense.
Let's set aside this 'Chains of Heaven' before him, a being who possesses power of the same celestial caliber as his own. The fact that even the Goddess of the Underworld, a deity of immense and solitary power, could be so thoroughly charmed by this mortal…
"Tell me," Gilgamesh began, his voice a low, intrigued rumble as he swirled the clear water in his bowl. "How did you manage it? Toying with the fickle Venus Goddess was one thing, but to earn the deep fondness of the Goddess of the Underworld herself?" He leaned forward slightly, his gaze intense. "She even bestowed upon you her blessing and protection—a boon a goddess can typically grant only once in her eternity. And she gave it to you."
Goddess of the Underworld? Fondness?
For some reason, Rowe felt the atmosphere in the room shift. He didn't need to look to sense the change in the gaze of the figure standing beside him.
"Rowe." En-chan's voice was sweet, but carried a new, inquisitive note. She tilted her head, blinking her bright, emerald-like eyes. A smile was on her lips, but it didn't quite reach her questioning gaze. "The Goddess of the Underworld... who is that?"
Rowe: "..."
A strange, chilling sense of déjà vu washed over him. This scenario felt unnervingly familiar.
Gilgamesh, you did this on purpose, didn't you?!
He shot a sharp glance at the King. The monarch on the other side of the table was laughing, his shoulders shaking with utterly unbridled and self-satisfied joy.
That's right, this King did it on purpose! Gilgamesh's triumphant expression seemed to scream. Did you think this King would always be on the receiving end of your verbal barbs? Now, the chance for a glorious counterattack has finally arrived!
"Foolish mongrel!" Gilgamesh uttered the two words with immense satisfaction, then threw his head back and laughed heartily once more, the sound echoing through the simple house. Judging by his triumphant, almost giddy behavior, he resembled nothing more than a clever husky that had just pulled off a magnificent prank, just short of prancing around the room in a victory dance.