Ishtar left the room in a state of profound astonishment. She truly hadn't anticipated this—even when faced with such direct and overwhelming force from the pantheon, neither Gilgamesh, nor Rowe, nor even that divine clay doll, Enkidu, had shown a flicker of fear. Weren't they afraid?
While they had always acted with brazen recklessness before, the current situation was fundamentally different. The two polar extremes of the Mesopotamian Plain's mightiest 'beasts'—the divine Bull of Heaven and the demonic Humbaba—represented the absolute pinnacle of interference the gods could currently exert upon the mortal realm. As an incarnate being descended through possession, the part of her that was 'Ishtar Rin' felt a genuine tremor of terror just contemplating their power.
"I hope they can hold on..." Outside, standing on the sun-drenched streets of Uruk, the goddess's footsteps faltered. She turned her gaze back toward the house she had just left. Her bare feet shifted uneasily on the warm stone, and her graceful form, enveloped in the modest crimson long coat, seemed to radiate a deep-seated anxiety.
For reasons she couldn't fully articulate, she found herself hoping Gilgamesh and the others would emerge victorious. Perhaps it was because of Rowe's baffling 'uniqueness,' or perhaps it was the influence of 'Tohsaka Rin's' inherent humanity, unwilling to witness the tragic spectacle of a thousand miles of scorched earth and countless corpses littering the world she had come to… appreciate?
"I should still inform that goddess of the underworld..." With this final thought, the being known as Ishtar Rin departed Uruk completely.
...
But inside the house, after her departure, a heavy, prolonged silence descended. No one spoke immediately—they seemed pensive, even worried, at least on the surface.
In reality, what Rowe was meticulously calculating in his heart was…
How to achieve the most glorious death possible.
Should I challenge the Bull of Heaven or Humbaba alone? A solo charge against a cataclysmic beast seems like a suitably epic way to go.
Or… should I attempt to fully transform into the 'Key of Heaven' itself, pushing my existence to its absolute limit to achieve a more conceptual, transcendent demise?
'What is Rowe thinking about?' Enkidu blinked her luminous emerald eyes. Seeing Rowe lost in silent contemplation, she felt unsure of what to say. Yet… almost instinctively, her slender, pale hand quietly reached out and gently enveloped his palm.
The contact broke Rowe from his strategic reverie. He felt the soft, delicate touch of her fingers and turned his gaze to find her exquisitely beautiful face already very close to his. Her features were like a masterpiece painting, her red lips slightly parted, and her emerald eyes held a depth that seemed to reflect countless shimmering stars.
Enkidu?
What is she trying to do?
The young 'Adjutant' was a bit slow to react. His gaze, falling unconsciously, traveled over her form. It passed over the simple, cloud-white priest's robe she wore, which did little to hide the graceful curves beneath. He vaguely glimpsed the fair, rounded shape of her shoulders, the startling slenderness of her waist, and the gentle, tapering curve of her hips. Her long legs were drawn up beside him as she knelt, the fabric of the robe gathering into a soft, deep fold in the triangular space between them. It was a picture of astonishing, innocent beauty, yet it also exuded an inexplicable, profound sense of peace.
"Rowe, it's alright, don't worry..." Enkidu held Rowe's palms firmly with both of her hands, her gaze direct and unwavering. "We will win. No matter what happens… I will stand with you."
She offered a pure, radiant smile. "Because we are friends, aren't we?"
I've never seen friends be quite so… physically close… Rowe thought, his eyes flicking sideways to the softness that was mere inches from his arm. He knew Enkidu, in her worldly naivety, had no ulterior motives and didn't understand the complexities of human social conventions. Her intent was purely one of comfort and solidarity. It was quite clear she had mistaken his plotting for genuine distress over the gods' impending assault.
"Hmph ha ha ha, exactly!" Gilgamesh's laughter boomed, shattering the intimate moment. It had to be said, his laughter possessed a unique quality—it was either profoundly annoying or, in moments of tension, inexplicably reassuring. He sat sprawled in his chair, arms crossed, his brilliant golden hair framing crimson eyes that now gleamed with an astonishing, predatory sharpness.
"As glories who have once fought alongside this King, this King grants you the supreme right to be named alongside him, to become this King's friends!" he declared with theatrical grandeur. "Then, naturally, this King will not allow any wretched creature, be it beast or god, to lay a finger on what belongs to him!"
"Siduri!" he suddenly barked.
"Present, Your Majesty!" A clear, prompt response came from just outside the door. The young female adjutant, dressed in a formal long gown with her face partially veiled by a light scarf, entered the room and bowed gracefully.
After a full day of mandated rest, Siduri's complexion was noticeably brighter, the shadows of exhaustion gone from her eyes. She stood ready, the picture of dutiful efficiency.
"Inform them of the preparations this King has already set in motion!" Gilgamesh commanded with a regal wave of his hand.
"At your command, Your Majesty!" Siduri responded instantly, executing her duties with flawless precision. To Rowe, observing the dynamic, this adjutant often seemed less like a royal official and more like a supremely capable mother managing the affairs of a brilliant but willful child.
"As per His Majesty's foresight," Siduri began, her voice clear and measured, "I have dispatched our most elite scouts to establish observation posts to the east and the west of Uruk." She paused, glancing at Gilgamesh for tacit approval before continuing. "Drawing upon the divine wisdom His Majesty possesses, we anticipate that if the Bull of Heaven and Humbaba are to manifest, they will do so in these two cardinal locations."
She elaborated with practiced clarity. "The east is the land of the sunrise, the origin point of divine revelation and celestial power. The west is the domain of the sunset, the boundary that borders the realm of death and silence. As the ultimate Divine Beast and Demonic Beast, both Gugalanna and Humbaba will require immense concentrations of atmospheric mana—aether—to forge their physical forms upon this plane. The eastern and western extremities of our kingdom are the most potent convergence points for such energies."
"The moment they begin to materialize, our scouts will relay the information immediately via signal fires!"
"Concurrently—" Siduri started, but Gilgamesh cut in, eager to take center stage.
"Concurrently," the King declared, leaning forward with a sharp grin, "this King has also dispatched envoys to the grand temple. They are to deliver a message to the priests, who will in turn whisper it to their divine patrons: that this King is 'graciously considering' their so-called advice."
He let out a short, derisive laugh. "Those decrepit and foolish deities will surely swallow the bait, believing I am capitulating. In their momentary triumph, they will grow complacent and slow the infusion of power sustaining the physical manifestation of their beasts. It will buy us precious time to prepare. A simple yet effective stratagem, is it not?"
"So that we can gain the initiative and more time to respond?" Rowe remained silent, deep in thought, but Enkidu, following the logic, finished the King's reasoning.
"Precisely! Worthy of being a friend acknowledged by this King!" Gilgamesh boomed, his eyes flicking toward Rowe, who was still quiet and contemplative.
Unperturbed, he pressed on. "The Bull of Heaven and Humbaba are 'beasts' of comparable might, but in terms of sheer, unpredictable savagery, Humbaba is far more troublesome. The gods have kept that monstrosity imprisoned in the darkest, most frigid depths of the heavenly cedar forest for eons. It is a creature of pure, untamed malice. The Bull of Heaven, while a force of divine cataclysm, is at least a known quantity."
"Therefore, this King's strategy is clear—tackle the Bull of Heaven first, then turn our full attention to Humbaba! Vanquish the simpler foe before confronting the greater chaos!"
His expression grew more serious, the arrogance giving way to tactical acumen. "Though it grates this King to admit it, facing both of these calamities simultaneously would test even my glorious might, and you who are worthy of sharing in it. Therefore, I am also considering how to exploit the divisions within the pantheon itself to secure an advantage! Those senile wretches have never presented a unified front!"
He had a point. The sun god Shamash, who was Gilgamesh's patron and grandfather, often found himself at odds with Anu, the current Sky God holding court. Similarly, Gilgamesh's mother, the All-Knowing Goddess Ninsun, held her own influence and sympathies. Gilgamesh's strategic thinking was sharp and multi-faceted, showing a ruler's foresight. When he wasn't being a petulant child, he was remarkably reliable.
However, Rowe's thoughts had traveled down a different path entirely, sparked by the King's words.
According to Gilgamesh's plan, they had time. With ample preparation and by dealing with the threats sequentially, defeating the two great beasts seemed not only possible but probable.
And that was precisely the problem. This was not the outcome Rowe desired.
After a string of failed attempts at achieving a legendary death, Rowe had come to a profound realization. To court a great death, one must first accomplish great deeds! His previous, more straightforward methods had been thwarted, often by his own unexpected successes. Now, blessed by Ereshkigal and no longer vulnerable to the passive erosion of death, conventional methods of self-sacrifice seemed increasingly futile.
So, in that moment, his ambition expanded exponentially. It was no longer merely about defeating the Bull of Heaven and Humbaba.
It was about… fundamentally dealing with the arrogant gods on high who presumed to control everything.
This had been an impossible dream before. Even with the combined power of the three Originals, assaulting the heavens directly was a monumental task. But what if they could unite the entire power of the Mesopotamian Plain?
If they could rally all the city-states, tribes, and heroes of this ancient civilization under one banner, combining that mortal might with their own celestial power, and perhaps even the aid of the Goddess of the Underworld, Ereshkigal… then it might just be possible.
It was not an impossible notion. Faced with an existential crisis capable of destroying all of human civilization, even the fractious city-states of this era would be forced to unite. The twin threats of the Bull of Heaven and Humbaba could serve as the perfect catalyst for such an alliance.
By seizing this crisis, they could turn it into an opportunity!
Yes.
At this very moment, what Rowe envisioned was using the impending cataclysm as a forge. He would use the Key of Heaven as the gate, the Chains of Heaven as the binding rope, the Wedge of Heaven as the path, and the combined power of the underworld and the mobilized human world…
To complete the work they had only begun before.
To truly shake the foundations of divine authority.
To finally drag the gods down from their gilded thrones and into the dust.