At noon, after undergoing two rounds of examinations from the priests and priestesses, Samael was finally declared healed and allowed to get out of bed.
Admittedly, being a human capable of transforming into a Magical Beast made him rather unusual. But with outsiders like Ana, Merlin, Leonidas, and others constantly reshaping Uruk's perception of Mystery, someone like him—labeled "heroic soldier of Babylon's ruins" and "butcher of the sacrificial grounds"—seemed far less outrageous by comparison.
Of course, what the priests and priestesses knew was limited to just two facts: Samael's ability to transform into a Magical Beast, and his astonishing recovery speed from near death. Thanks to the secret coordination between the ancient serpent and Ana, the horrific scene of him being torn in half by the Goddess of Demonic Beasts yet still bouncing around afterward had been carefully hidden.
After the routine checkup, Samael received a large basket of follow-up supplies—magic potions, talismans, and the like. Just as he exchanged a few words with the new High Priestess, the expected summons arrived, delivered by a soldier at the door.
It came from Head Priestess Siduri and King Gilgamesh.
Phew! This was the moment that mattered most!
Tiamat, may your radiance shield me—let me pass this trial safely.
Samael let out a deep breath, silently offered a prayer, steadied his mind, took Ana by the hand, and followed the messenger toward the Sacred Tower of the royal palace.
Along the way, many homes on both sides showed signs of varying degrees of damage. The neighbors of Uruk, busy repairing their homes, looked down and caught sight of two familiar figures in the street. They paused what they were doing and greeted them with cheerful warmth.
"Haha, morning, Samael! I told you a tough kid who escaped from Babylon wouldn't go down that easy!"
"Hey, Ana-chan's out too! Haven't eaten yet? Try the pie I just baked—fresh out of the oven."
"Oi, old Parker! He woke up in three days! Odd number—you owe me a round of barley beer!"
"Hey, kid from the north! Why didn't you come out a day earlier? I took a big loss, you know!"
"No way! After your audience with the king, you're paying for drinks tonight!"
Samael nodded repeatedly, grinning and firing back light-hearted quips.
Ana, a favorite among the aunties and old ladies, had her arms full of wheat cakes, pastries, and dried fruit by the time they made it down the long street—all gifts from the neighbors.
Even Samael was lucky enough to share in the bounty with enough snacks and fruit for two meals.
The ancient serpent lowered his gaze to the sweet, fragrant gifts in his hands. The corners of his mouth curved up slightly, a quiet warmth blooming in his chest.
Sharp as he was, he knew exactly what this meant—it was a sign that the city had accepted him. Even after transforming into a fearsome Magical Beast, he was still seen, still trusted. Even though his city-state had been destroyed and he had drifted here like a stray, he was embraced by this place.
What he once was didn't matter anymore.
What he had done for this city—many still remembered.
And so, these people were willing to believe that King Gilgamesh's summons wasn't about punishment, but recognition—for saving Uruk.
Those who bring firewood for others must not be left to freeze in the snow.
Those who pave the way for freedom must not be left to struggle alone in the thorns.
Those who work for the people's good must not be left to fight unaided.
Those who give their lives for their homeland must not be left without shelter.
Here, whether you come from Eridu, Kutha, Nippur, Babylon, or even faraway Greece, Avalon, or Sparta—as long as you set foot on this land and acknowledge the king's rule, you will be called by one shared name:
Uruk Citizen.
Maybe that's why Ana loved this place so much.
The ancient serpent took a bite of the sweet fruit, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He looked up at the clear sky, lips moving in a soft murmur.
Those who treat the world with kindness will be treated kindly in return.
Mother Goddess, this is the honor you should receive too.
But don't worry. Just wait a little longer.
The soft, resonant hum in his mind seemed to echo in reply.
Samael tossed the gnawed pit into the grass and caught up to the soldier who'd paused to wait for him.
Of course, the road from the embassy to the Sacred Tower wasn't all warmth and greetings.
Even though the stone tiles had been replaced and the floors scrubbed clean, bloodstains still lingered in the cracks. The sacrificial ground was piled with corpses of Magical Beasts. At the east gate barracks, a massive pit was still being filled. Along the north wall, soldiers and Magus worked nonstop to repair the damage...
All of it served as a grim reminder—the brutal battle had left its scars, and the aftershocks were far from over.
Uruk was still licking its wounds, hoping to recover its ability to defend itself as soon as possible.
On his way past the shrine and temple, Samael witnessed a rather bizarre scene.
A group of clergy were busily scraping gold dust from the walls, prying gemstones from the pillars, and knocking loose coins of various metals out of the donation boxes.
"You lot, hurry up! Move it! Anything valuable—bring it all here!"
Amid the hurried shouting, a black-haired figure squatted in front of a chest. She wore a dazzling golden crown and a short Sumerian skirt. Her arms reached into the heap of coins and jewels, fingers gleefully scooping them up and letting them trickle back down again.
As the gems and coins slipped through her fingers and clinked into the box below, the beautiful black-haired girl tilted her head, listening in rapture. Her half-exposed face curved into a grin—a mischievous, cat-like smirk that made her look like a beckoning lucky cat, utterly enamored by the sound as if it were divine music.
"I'm rich! Finally rich! After working so hard, I can at least recoup a bit of the cost and cover some of the expenses."
Murmuring excitedly, she rubbed a sparkling gemstone against her cheek, her smile stretching even wider.
"L-Lady Ishtar... that's all we have..."
A thin shrine maiden dragged a heavy chest behind the goddess, her voice trembling. She glanced back at the temple that now looked more like a ransacked ruin than a sacred site, and an inexplicable sorrow welled up in her heart.
The half-open chest held only a few coins and jewels. Most of its contents were bowls, candlesticks, and deity statues—all made of gold and silver.
These items were, essentially, the last remaining dignity of the temple, stripped bare.
Once, the temples of Uruk—second only to the royal palace's Sacred Tower—had stood as symbols of opulence and grace. Now, they were little more than drafty wrecks waiting for demolition.
"Well, not bad at all. Seems like you've all been working pretty hard," the black-haired goddess said as she patted the shrine maiden on the shoulder with a satisfied smile.
Just as she was about to stash the loot into Maanna, the Boat of Heaven, the mournful shrine maiden mustered her courage and grabbed the goddess's arm.
"Lady Ishtar, if you take everything… what will happen to the temple?"
"What's that got to do with me? It's not like anyone in Uruk is offering sacrifices to me these days."
"It's such a beautiful temple. Feels like a waste..."
Ishtar casually tossed the treasure chest into Maanna, her expression utterly unapologetic.
The shrine maiden's breath hitched. In that moment, she felt her faith completely collapse.
I'm done for.