So you really think this temple was built just to hoard wealth?
As the priestess retreated in stunned silence, a nearby priest cautiously stepped forward.
"Lady Ishtar, that may be so, but these items are still Uruk's property. Everything is logged at the sacrificial grounds."
"If the king decides to hold us accountable…"
Ishtar shot a sidelong glance at the Sacred Tower of the royal palace, hands on her hips, chin lifted high with a smug grin.
"Accountable? What, am I supposed to be afraid of him?"
"Hmph. That flashy gold guy just got into a brawl with the Chains of Heaven—both sides were seriously injured. He doesn't even have time to patch himself up."
"So what if I take what belongs to my own temple? If he's got a problem with it, tell him to come bite me!"
The priest opened his mouth, but couldn't find a single word to say.
"Wait a second! I've been so focused on raiding my own place—how pathetic is that?!"
Suddenly, the goddess smacked herself on the head in frustration, as if something important had just dawned on her.
Goddess… you actually know how to feel shame?
Unbelievable... Truly a miracle—praise Anu for this miracle!
The surrounding priestesses and priests were moved to tears, faces gradually lighting up with hope.
"Idiot! The royal palace! The sacrificial grounds! How could I forget those two places?!"
"Even if I can't find the Babylonian treasury, there's still plenty of good stuff in those places!"
With that, Ishtar leapt onto Maanna, and shot off eagerly toward her next looting target.
The priests and priestesses left behind stood frozen. They exchanged blank stares before finally burying their faces in their hands, weeping uncontrollably. Bitter, helpless tears flowed like a dam had broken.
Why, of all things, did we choose the priesthood? And in this cursed place called Uruk, no less!
The third storm had just arrived, and with it, the divine blessings vanished from their bodies. Unwilling to lose power, the High Priestess had attempted a spirit descent ritual, only to anger the King of Heroes and spark bloodshed.
Since the Babylonia campaign began, these clergy—abandoned by gods, unloved by humans—had worked themselves to the bone trying to clear their names with King Gilgamesh.
They'd hauled cart after cart of magic potions, gemstones, coin, and grain to the sacrificial grounds. Every time the city needed people, they answered with full numbers.
Even on the deadly Magical Beast front lines, they grit their teeth and charged in.
In the end, casualties among priestesses and priests were second only to the soldiers.
After all that effort to turn around their image, after finally seeing a sliver of light beyond the clouds… their own goddess showed up and ransacked her temple.
What kind of twisted joke is this?
They'd spent their whole lives reciting the noble deeds of the gods from cuneiform tablets—and now, for the first time ever, they were watching a goddess loot her own sanctuary!
The king demands supplies. The army demands manpower. And now the goddess arrives and nearly tears the house down to pack it up.
When did we become sacrificial lambs for everyone to slaughter?
The priestesses and priests stared at the temple—full of holes, battered and broken—with grief and indignation boiling in their hearts.
To hell with this divine service! If anyone dares tell me again that serving the gods is a noble career, I swear I'll bash their head in!
At that moment, Samael silently watched the aftermath of the heist, eyes following the rampaging goddess as she flew off to raid her next target, and couldn't help muttering internally.
What a goddamn disaster.
"Teacher, was she always this shameless even before being summoned?"
"Uh..."
Inside the ghost-lantern that had been brought along, the spirit of the sacred prostitute Shamhat swirled with changing smoke across her face. She choked on her words for a moment, then covered her face and mumbled,
"N-not exactly..."
"You sure about that?"
"Maybe... probably... possibly?"
Samael rubbed his forehead in silence.
In proper Sumerian mythology, the great goddess Ishtar was indeed quite the menace. She had hardly done anything worthy of praise by the people of Uruk, but had certainly stirred up her fair share of disasters.
The most infamous, without a doubt, was when she, out of personal spite, summoned Gugalanna, the Bull of Heaven, causing it to ravage Mesopotamia for seven straight years.
Now, even though she'd been summoned and the foreign girl serving as her vessel had given her some semblance of humanity, old habits died hard. Add to that the host's own obsessive love for gemstones, and you ended up with a being like this.
Samael had to admit—Ishtar had once again shattered his worldview.
The ancient serpent calmed the strange emotions stirring in his chest, pointed to the temple that had just been looted, and turned to the soldier beside him, speaking in a low voice.
"You saw all of that? Heard it too? Aren't you going to do something?"
"But... she's a goddess. Offending her could bring disaster..."
The messenger nodded hesitantly, his face filled with uncertainty.
"Then report it immediately to King Gilgamesh and Head Priestess Siduri. Let them deal with it."
Samael rolled his eyes and reminded him irritably.
"Ah! Y-yes! Right away!"
The messenger jolted as if struck by lightning, nodded rapidly, and took off—but after just a few steps, he paused and glanced back, clearly unsure.
"I know the way to the Sacred Tower. You should get moving," Samael said casually. "If you're any later, I'm afraid there won't be any pillars left at the sacrificial site."
With that, the messenger broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of letting a goddess run wild, then turned and sprinted toward the royal palace's Sacred Tower like his life depended on it.
...
On the way, Samael and Ana walked at a relaxed pace, nibbling on the snacks in their hands to make up for their missed breakfast.
By the time they arrived at the entrance of the Sacred Tower, they saw Siduri—her face pale—leading a large group of Magus in a full sprint toward the sacrificial grounds.
To have a city guardian like this… seriously...
Samael shook his head, took a deep breath, and pushed the mess from earlier out of his mind.
At the same time, the conclusions drawn from what had just happened left him both concerned and relieved.
Even with Ishtar running amok and looting temples, King Gilgamesh hadn't shown himself. That could only mean one thing—he was seriously injured.
Chances were, the old foxes Merlin and Leonidas, who had both suffered heavy losses, weren't in great shape either.
Uruk's defensive strength had now hit rock bottom.
But misfortune breeds opportunity. This crisis... was also a golden chance for him to turn the tables.
Time to go all in.
The ancient serpent took Ana by the fingertips, his steps firm as he made his way toward the majestic and solemn Sacred Tower of the royal palace.
Light and shadow cut across the threshold as Samael stepped into the hall.
Inside the vast royal court, everything was silent. Only King Gilgamesh sat reviewing clay tablets as usual, and the Incubus nearby dozed with his staff still in his arms.
"King of Heroes of Uruk. I'm glad to see you're safe."
The ancient serpent stepped forward and offered a slight bow.
"King of Heroes? So you've decided to switch titles when speaking to me?"
Gilgamesh put down his clay tablet and slowly looked up. His gaze, cold and inquisitive, swept over the figure standing at the center of the hall.
"Then what should I call you?"
"The fugitive from Babylon's ruins... the Butcher of the Sacrificial Grounds... the hero of Uruk..."
"Or... the spy of the Goddess of Demonic Beasts?"
A chill swept through the hall from the throne, like a silent storm. In the corner, Merlin stirred from his nap, eyelids fluttering open as if from a dream.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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