"Samael! I helped out at the shop today and sold thirteen bouquets! Granny gave me a flower crown and even made butter cake for me!"
"Oh, and Grandpa Tabbad's grandson let me hold him—he was so cute!"
"And I finished all seven of Siduri's errands too!"
Inside the flower shop, Ana beamed with pride, her face glowing as she eagerly listed the results of her hard work over the past few days.
The guilt and gloom that once filled her eyes were gone, replaced by a bright sparkle. The shy girl who used to avoid eye contact had completely vanished.
"Hmm, no wonder everyone on the street's been praising you."
Samael chuckled and nodded. His gaze lingered on her silky purple hair, and an odd itch stirred inside him.
A snake! She's a snake!
Recalling the legend behind this young form of the goddess, he silently warned himself to stop the creeping urge to reach out and stroke it.
But when Ana gave him that eager look, clearly fishing for praise, his hand gave in—resting gently atop her head, fingers brushing through the soft strands.
Snake or not, he was going to pet her anyway! He learned this from his handler, Ere-sama!
If Ere-sama could do it, why couldn't he?
Giving in to instinct, Samael shamelessly justified the indulgence in his mind.
Ana, meanwhile, clearly enjoyed the attention. She closed her eyes in contentment, quietly savoring the familiar, comforting presence.
The ancient snake looked around the spotless flower shop, every plant meticulously cared for, and couldn't help but feel a little moved by her effort.
As an adult, he bore the marks of time—far less susceptible to change. Truly blending into this era, into Uruk, would take time.
But Ana was different. Despite her lingering guilt, the guidance of Merlin, Gilgamesh, and Samael had helped her let go of pointless self-reproach.
In these troubled times, the warmth and unity of Uruk had washed away the confusion and darkness in her heart.
Now, she radiated joy and light.
She knew Uruk's festivals by heart, adored Sumerian sweets, played messenger for flustered lovers on the street, eagerly completed tasks, and treated earning Priestess Silvers as pure fun.
Without realizing it, she had nearly become a proper little girl of Uruk.
And that wasn't a bad thing, was it?
Samael smiled softly and called Ana back as she returned the shop key to the old lady.
"Samael, I want wheat cakes!"
"Sure, we'll make them together when we get home."
"And fruit soup for dinner—like last time!"
"Then you're on fruit-peeling duty."
"I think we're out of honey?"
"Let's pick up a jar on the way. You pick the flavor."
Ana chattered away, full of excitement, while Samael answered gently.
The two of them—one tall, one small—walked side by side down the street, their shadows stretching longer in the fading sunlight, quietly overlapping.
As the ancient snake casually looked up, he noticed something odd—dense black specks drifting in the blood-red glow of the sunset.
Wait! Not specks... flying creatures!
As Samael squinted into the distance, the scene sharpened. In the reflection of his slitted pupils appeared swarms of creatures—sinister forms twisted from snake and lizard.
Then came the howling wind. Dust burst into the air, sweeping across the streets and rooftops, leaving a piercing wail in its wake.
"Everyone, inside! Hide!"
Samael's expression changed drastically as he roared at the people around him, but most of the Uruk citizens remained frozen in place, confused and unsure of what was happening.
Wasn't the northern wall still intact? Those Magical Beasts shouldn't have been able to breach it, right?
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
"It's dragons!"
"A whole flock of Wyverns!"
The warning Magecraft arrays on the watchtowers activated all at once, and mournful horns and piercing screams echoed throughout Uruk. The dazed citizens suddenly snapped out of it, faces pale, and rushed frantically into the nearest buildings.
For the past six months, the Magical Beasts had been attacking from the ground, and the people had grown used to it, steadily reinforcing Babylonia's defensive lines, that natural barrier had been built mainly to block ground threats—but some Magical Beasts could fly!
Among the Eleven Offspring of Tiamat, both the Three-Horned Lion-Dragon "Ušumgallu" and the Winged Two-Legged Serpent "Bašmu" were true airborne threats!
This sudden new wave of aerial enemies had struck Uruk's greatest vulnerability.
Arrows were loosed in several volleys, but their limited range proved useless—most didn't even graze the Wyverns' scales before being scattered by the swirling air currents.
"Activate the Dingir! Hurry!"
Leonidas' sharp roar rang out from the city walls. Hundreds of Magus, priestesses, and priests stationed at the watchtowers scrambled to channel their Mana into the massive cannon-like long-range weapons.
Blinding beams of light shot through the sky, instantly blasting over a dozen Wyverns into pieces, their remains raining down from above.
However, the Dingir hadn't been designed with aerial threats in mind, and its firing angle couldn't cover high altitudes—leaving a critical gap in Uruk's defenses.
On top of that, the Wyverns could dive through at any moment.
Those who once stood proudly atop the walls, comfortably shielded and elegantly casting spells to reap Magical Beast lives, were now panicked and disorganized. Mistakes piled up, even resulting in two Dingir weapons being rendered unusable.
With the anti-air barrage weakening, the circling Wyverns seized the opportunity and dove in, grabbing soldiers and soaring upward—then dropping them from deadly heights.
The result was horrific. Bodies crashed into the walls like sacks of meat, painting the stone red with blood.
The Wyverns, intelligent and strategic, began targeting the most threatening Dingir cannons and the spellcasters clustered near them.
"Shields up! Spears ready!"
Seeing the chaos spreading, Leonidas shouted with a force that snapped the soldiers back to their senses. They instinctively obeyed, rallying around the Dingir and the vulnerable spellcasters.
But the Wyverns didn't wait. They dove again, aiming to prevent the humans from regrouping.
"Come down here… you bastards!"
Leonidas stood at the front of the shield wall and hurled his spear, piercing three Wyverns mid-dive before collapsing from exhaustion.
Immediately after, a barrage of spears flew out, ripping through the enemy formation, each volley taking down at least one.
Sensing the danger, the cunning beasts abandoned their dense formation and tried to flank from both sides, targeting Leonidas' more vulnerable human allies.
But rows of tight round shields and spears thrust from the gaps left them no opening. Caught off guard, two Wyverns were slain instantly.
The spellcasters, finally composed, began casting in earnest. Glowing Magecraft rings and suppressive temple spells surged forth, helping the humans on the wall recover control of the battlefield.
Unable to take down this fortified position, the Wyverns pulled back, soaring over Babylonia's defenses and heading straight for Uruk, now exposed within their hunting range.
The thunderous flapping of wings and savage roars gathered above the city like an apocalyptic storm, casting a shadow over every Uruk citizen's heart.
"Damn it!"
Seeing the massive flock of Wyverns preparing to descend, Leonidas drew another spear, twisted his body, and tried once more to draw their attention.
But the moment the Spartan King raised his arm, the black clouds overhead shattered, revealing a massive beast nearly twenty meters long. Its shining scales glinted in the light, and its grotesque face emerged fully.
Those yellow, cold, vertical-slit eyes locked onto Leonidas I, whose divine aura surged atop the city wall.
The commander of the Hot Gates, hair standing on end, had no choice but to focus on this terrifying creature from the Golden Age. Sweat clung to his soaked armor like glue.
From the darkness, a quiet gaze watched the rapidly descending monster. Breaths came a little quicker.
The Blue Dragon—Bašmu!