"Pfft!"
Samael struggled to rise, coughing up a dark lump of purple-red blood, with fragments of internal organs mixed in.
Seeing their comrade in such a terrible state, Ishtar and the others instinctively moved to help.
"Stay back! I'm not dead—I've got this!"
The ancient serpent raised a hand to stop them. He fell twice before managing to get back on his feet, then, after catching his breath, continued to climb the steps toward the Sun Altar, one slow step at a time.
Three broken ribs, a ruptured spleen, bruising around the heart and lungs... it was bad.
And it hurt like hell.
As the pain throbbed beneath his skin and the tingling of regenerating bones set in, Samael gritted his teeth so hard that his lips split and bled.
Still, bolstered by his immortality, by the time he climbed a dozen more steps, most of his injuries had already begun to mend.
Moments later, he returned to the spot where he had first fallen and bent down again to pick up the Aztec weapon.
Bang!
As expected, Quetzalcoatl grabbed his outstretched arm, twisted her waist, and threw him effortlessly toward the edge of the dense forest.
The second time, Samael lay there motionless for nearly fifteen minutes before dragging himself up once more and heading back toward the pyramid.
As he passed his four companions, they caught the heavy scent of blood clinging to him. Their hearts leapt into their throats, fists clenched tight until their knuckles turned white.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Under everyone's gaze, Samael climbed the Sun Temple again and again, only to be flung down each time.
Even as his immortal healing slowed with each fall, Samael's expression remained taut. Like a wind-up machine, he climbed the Mayan pyramid with relentless, mechanical determination.
Quetzalcoatl, too, seemed lost in a trance, waiting on the same step each time, knocking him down again and again like swatting away a stubborn ant.
Time crawled by—from the blazing heat of noon, to the chill of nightfall, to the pale light of a new dawn.
After nearly a full day and night, the clearing was littered with dozens of craters, splashed with patches of dried blood.
Ishtar and the others had gone from outrage, to sympathy, to numb awe.
In the end, they simply stared at that lone figure in silence, as if something had finally clicked into place.
This wasn't about punishment anymore. It was a clash of wills.
"You can't beat me."
Standing tall in the glow of the rising sun, Quetzalcoatl lowered her head, pressing one hand onto Samael's trembling shoulder. Her voice was low and cold.
"I know. But that's no reason to give up."
"There are things I have to do."
Samael spoke calmly as he bent down, reaching for the weapon once more.
Bang!
Quetzalcoatl instantly flipped him with a shoulder throw, slamming him back into the ground.
But this time, she didn't hurl him away from the altar.
And at some point, the warm smile that used to rest on her face had vanished—replaced by rage and grim intensity.
"You're just a human. You couldn't even take on a high-level Magical Beast—and yet you dare challenge a goddess? Are you not afraid of death?"
"Kid, even with immortality, I could kill you with a flick of my hand!"
Samael took a deep breath, his eyes steady. He pointed to his chest and replied with quiet resolve.
"I am afraid. From the very start, my heart's been pounding like a drum."
"To be honest, I want to live more than any of them."
Quetzalcoatl scowled, her expression hard and unreadable.
"If you know there's a gap between us, then why waste your strength on something futile?"
"Even the weakest creatures understand that if they want to live, they should get out of a predator's territory as fast as possible!"
Samael struggled upright, his mind drifting back to the whispers of the ghosts in the Underworld. His eyes clouded with memory, and he muttered under his breath.
"Leave? Go where? Bury our heads in the sand like ostriches?"
"Babylon! We fled, stood by and watched tens of thousands get dragged away by magical beasts..."
"Nippur! We couldn't hold it. Thousands are still trapped there to this day..."
"Kutha! All we could do was retrieve the corpses. So many want revenge, but can't even find the killers..."
"Ur! We don't even dare speak with the women and children—afraid they'll ask if their fathers or brothers are alive, or when they're coming home..."
"Eridu! We abandoned it for six months, too drained to resist the jungle's encroachment..."
As his voice rose and fell, Quetzalcoatl's hand slowly loosened from Samael's shoulder, her expression shifting, clouded with emotion.
Even Merlin, always composed, and Ishtar, ever reckless, were left silent by the list of battered cities.
"So tell me—aside from Uruk, where else could we go?"
"Should we hide in the jungle and let you raise us like livestock, Lady Goddess?"
Samael gave a cold, faint smile as he brushed away her now-limp hand. He didn't flinch from challenging the Sun Goddess, speaking with unshaken clarity.
"Dignity isn't something humans wait around for gods to grant. We take it for ourselves."
"There's nothing wrong with wanting to live—but we want to live as humans!"
The ancient serpent bent down, picked up the macuahuitl, leaned in close to Quetzalcoatl's ear, and whispered with a quiet smile.
"Lady Goddess, you could kill me. Strip me of my immortality. It would be easier than breathing for you."
Quetzalcoatl looked down at the long shadow cast by Samael on the steps below and sank into a deep silence.
"If you're not going to stop me, then I'll do what I must."
Samael walked past the unmoving goddess, step by step, toward the summit.
At last, his staggering figure, drained of nearly all strength, slumped against the Solar Calendar Stone. He raised his arm and pointed the obsidian blade directly at Quetzalcoatl's weak point.
Turning around, he lifted his chin and looked down at her with quiet pride. The sharp edge of the weapon tapped against the Sun Stone as he spoke in a firm voice.
"Quetzalcoatl, you've lost."
"You stubborn children… you always want to break away, stand on your own… even knowing it'll lead you to ruin one day."
"That's how it was with the Maya. And now the Sumerians are no different."
The golden-haired goddess of South America murmured quietly, her expression clouded and dark.
But a moment later, it was as if something within her finally gave way. She raised her head slowly, spread her arms with easy grace, and gave a dazzling, almost intoxicating smile.
"All right. I've lost. So tell me, victors—what will you do with me?"
Samael raised the obsidian weapon high, and for a moment, everyone's heart skipped.
But then came a crisp clatter—the blade slipped from his fingers, tumbling down the steps.
Looking down from above, the ancient serpent gave the goddess a small, tired smile.
"Then in the name of the victor, I order Quetzalcoatl—help humanity dispel the Three Storms and defy the Mandate of Heaven."