The night was dark, and a bitter wind howled through the battlefield, stinging every cheek it touched. Dried blood smeared the ground like wild paint, a brutal spectacle of chaos.
Inside and outside the Babylonia defense line, mangled corpses lay heaped in gruesome piles—some human, some Magical Beasts.
The remnants of the last battle hadn't even been cleared when war broke out once more.
The Uruk soldiers, already worn to the bone, clutched their spears and shields tightly. Huddled together, they leaned on each other for support, thrusting forward in a mechanical, numbed rhythm.
But humans couldn't match Magical Beasts in raw strength or endurance.
After dozens of brutal clashes, the once-sturdy Spartan phalanx began to twist and collapse.
"Bang! Bang!"
A towering Two-Meter-Tall Mušmaḫḫū swooped down, wings folding as it slammed its head into two shields, shattering them.
"Crack!"
A sharp snap echoed—the sound of breaking bones. Two Uruk soldiers, already spent, were flung aside, blood spurting from their mouths as their broken bodies crashed to the left, completely defenseless.
Dozens of Uridimmu scaled the city walls, drooling and snarling as they charged together.
Humans had gained power by consuming the flesh and essence of Magical Beasts.
Likewise, these beasts could devour the divine bloodline inherited from Kingu, one of the Eleven Offspring of Tiamat, by feasting on humans—these two-legged sheep.
Survival of the fittest—such was the rule of nature.
Even more, the more humans they devoured, the more pleased their Mother Goddess would be.
To please the gods meant rewards beyond measure!
The two Uruk soldiers, plummeting fast, tried desperately to twist their bodies and brace their shields, hoping to block the claws and fangs of the oncoming Uridimmu when they hit the ground.
But their wounds were too severe. Their bodies had long since been drained of any remaining strength, even after guzzling who knows how many bottles of side-effect-laden potions.
Now, even if they wanted to fight to the death, there was nothing left to draw upon.
Tch. Becoming lion dog food—what a disgrace to Leonidas-sama' teachings.
When they bury us, I hope those bastards in the squad can at least gather all our bones... and not laugh while doing it.
Just as they closed their eyes in despair, two chains shot through the air, wrapping around their waists and yanking them back onto something soft.
No—this wasn't a cushion!
It was the high-ranking Magical Beast, Ugallu!
As the wind howled around them, the two barely-surviving Uruk soldiers, their vision blurred, saw that beneath them, a rebel Ugallu was tearing through the lion dogs with sheer force.
Compared to this Lion-Headed Storm Demon, the smaller Uridimmu were barely two-thirds its size—and they were being tossed into the air, howling.
Not only was the Ugallu absurdly strong, it was shockingly agile. Each claw strike, each bite of its fangs, sent the enemies flying—it was nearly unstoppable.
And riding it was a purple-haired girl, her hood pulled back, wielding a scythe with remarkable agility. Together, the girl and her mount carved a brutal, bloody path through the pack of lion dogs.
"The priestess and the priest!"
Breaking through the Uridimmu's encirclement, Samael roared and threw the two heavily wounded soldiers onto a makeshift aid station set up by the priestesses and priests.
The startled Uruk team nearly dropped their spears and Magecraft in fright.
But then, hearing familiar voices, they cautiously stepped forward and asked hesitantly,
"Samael..."
"And Ana-chan?"
Merlin, arriving right behind them, gave a calm nod, his expression turning serious.
"They're part of the support the king asked me to find! We'll explain later. Focus on saving them first!"
So they're also "outsiders" like General Leonidas? No wonder they're so powerful!
With the court Magus' assurance, the priestesses and priests heaved sighs of relief and quickly pulled the two injured men aside.
One administered potions, another cast healing Magecraft. The rescue team scrambled into action, working furiously to snatch their lives back from the jaws of death.
"Pft! Pft! Pft! Pft!"
Purple-red afterimages streaked past as the dull sound of flesh being ripped apart rang out again and again. Heads, limbs, and necks flew through the air, while the stench of beast blood sprayed everywhere in violent bursts.
Dozens of Magical Beasts of all sizes were shredded by chains, sickle blades, and claws, leaving Uruk soldiers along the way stunned in disbelief.
By now, the rider who had returned to the battlefield after dropping off the wounded was showcasing terrifying agility and combat power.
Their synergy—one plus one greater than two—made it a one-sided massacre against mid- and low-tier Magical Beasts.
Even when confronted with high-ranking beasts like the Mušmaḫḫū, Wyverns, or even full-fledged Ugallu, the two could still hold their ground against seven or eight at a time.
With the arrival of these two "outsiders," the elite fighting strength Uruk had lost due to Leonidas' injuries was fully restored.
The once-crumbling Spartan phalanx finally regained stability under the rapid back-and-forth support of Samael and Ana. Taking the opportunity, they began to push back, driving the remaining Magical Beasts off the city walls and forcing them down the Babylonia front.
Everything was progressing smoothly. The regrouped forces reclaimed the city walls inch by inch, pressing the scattered beasts into a chaotic retreat.
Seeing the last few sections of the central wall about to be cleared, the Uruk soldiers grew euphoric. Their faces flushed with excitement, they swung their weapons, pounded their shields, and let loose a battle cry that sent blood surging.
"Sparta!"
"Sparta!"
"Sparta!"
"Bang!"
Samael snapped an Uridimmu's neck and hurled the lion-dog off the high wall. He then leapt onto the ledge, his slit pupils widening as he scanned the pitch-black wilderness.
He didn't know why, but ever since Gilgamesh had drawn Kingu away, a sense of unease had taken root.
Now, despite Uruk's clear victory in the counteroffensive, that creeping anxiety was growing stronger by the second.
But what was there to fear?
King versus king, general versus general, soldier versus soldier.
Gilgamesh, the demigod hero standing at the very peak of Mesopotamia, couldn't possibly lose to Kin—Kingu?!
As Samael stared into the darkness, frowning in thought, every hair on his back suddenly stood on end. He whipped around and roared with everything he had.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack! Activate the defensive Magecraft—maximum output!"
"The Goddess of Demonic Beasts! Beware the Goddess of Demonic Beasts!"
Beside him, Merlin, who had also been staring into the night, suddenly narrowed his pupils in alarm.
They'd been tricked!
Looking back now, Samael's rescue of Ana from the divine bindings of the Chains of Heaven had gone far too smoothly.
Kingu had clearly been applying pressure to the Babylonia front, using both them and the survival of the northern wall as bait.
And it worked. The one drawn out was none other than Gilgamesh—the "king's piece."
Kingu might be the usual leader of the Magical Beast tide, but he was merely a "commander." The true king had always been—the Goddess of Demonic Beasts, Gorgon!
"Scatter the warriors!"
"Everyone else, form up defenses! Full power—move!"
For the first time, the court Magus Merlin raised his voice in a high, trembling cry, his expression pale.
As he shouted, Ether surged madly across the wilderness. The sheer density of it pressed down like a suffocating weight.
In the next instant, thousands of purple-red beams tore through the darkness, slamming down on the already-crippled Babylonia defense line.