"These are iris seeds I gathered near Mount Ebih. Once they bloom, they'll be far more vibrant and delicate than those lifeless stones..."
"These roses came from the outskirts of Kutha. Their fragrance is rich and long-lasting—it lingers on clothes for days..."
"These are sea buckthorn berries from near the Cedar Forest. Once they bear fruit, they're edible—sweet and tangy, with a wonderful taste..."
"The roses from the flower shop in Uruk are famous. I asked the shopkeeper—a kind old lady—for a variety of seeds. Each one was carefully cultivated and selected..."
"And with the environmental changes in Ur and Eridu, there are plenty of new species from faraway lands—peacock grass, South American daffodils, butterfly orchids…"
Ereshkigal opened her bag, her gaze distant as she watched the colorful seeds fall in. In her mind, she pictured them taking root, sprouting, and blooming into radiant flowers.
The ancient serpent who had brought them beamed with enthusiasm, his eyes gleaming as he explained each seed's origin, its habitat, and the customs tied to it.
He became increasingly animated.
The wild fruits of the Cedar Forest, Kutha's wheat beer, Uruk's butter cake and lamb ribs, Eridu's date porridge, Ur's sea buckthorn juice—one by one, Samael described them all...
Eventually, he included pottery, smelting, grazing, wedding customs—every facet of life across the regions.
To the goddess of the underworld, who knew so little of the world above, all of it was dazzling and full of wonder. Her eyes sparkled with longing.
Yes...
The place Samael had journeyed through was called Mesopotamia.
The culture he saw was Sumerian.
The air he breathed came from a free sky and solid ground.
There, you could feel the warmth of the sun, smell the fragrance of flowers and grass, hear rivers flowing, and feel the caress of a gentle breeze.
These were things she had longed for... even envied.
And now, the serpent she had once taken in was trying to bring that earthly beauty to her.
All of it, born from a promise that once seemed foolish.
"You did all this... for me?"
"Yeah. I brought Merlin here, but his Illusion Arts are still just illusions—they don't count."
"I promised you I'd find a way—no matter what—to make the most beautiful flowers bloom in the Underworld!"
Samael's eyes were clear, his voice soft and sincere.
"But all I can give Ere-sama... are these flowers."
He lifted his head toward the pitch-black ceiling, then lowered his gaze again. His voice quieted, tinged with sorrowful remembrance.
"Mesopotamia… is no longer what it once was."
"Mount Ebih has been ravaged. It's barren now—bare rock, no more greenery..."
"Kutha is a dead city. The taverns are shut, and the roses in the Temple have long since withered..."
"The Cedar Forest is overrun by Magical Beasts. The rivers carry the remains of humans…"
"Ur and Eridu are swallowed by rainforest. There are no more date palms or sea buckthorn trees—no one even dares to go out and harvest them…"
Ereshkigal's fingers trembled as they gripped the edge of the bag. Her face paled. She bit her lip hard, tried to speak several times, but the words wouldn't come.
Divine Spirits stood high above, granted authority. The storms they stirred could ravage the land at a whim.
The fragile beauty humankind had struggled to build over millennia shattered in an instant, like shards of colored glass.
Whether it was Ishtar or the Three Goddesses, they had all, without question, been destroyers.
Overwhelmed with guilt, the goddess of the underworld—who wished only to preserve Sumerian culture and protect the souls of humanity—felt that guilt weigh heavily on her heart.
Samael picked up a clear pomegranate seed and let out a soft sigh. "No matter how beautiful these may be, they're still lifeless things in the end. It's human culture that is the most magnificent and eternal flower of Mesopotamia…"
"Ere, you were the one who taught me to recognize beauty and to yearn for the world above. So, you must feel the same way too, right?"
As he spoke, the ancient serpent looked at the goddess of the underworld, his eyes shining with anticipation.
"Mm…"
Unable to face the intensity and purity in his gaze, Ereshkigal turned her head away, letting out a barely audible hum as she lowered it.
Snap!
Samael, reassured by her response, nodded with visible relief. He gently took hold of Ereshkigal's pale wrist, his expression more serious than ever before.
"I know you'll want to protect Sumerian culture. You'll protect the people of Sumer!"
"And I will too!"
"In the past six months, I've traveled all across Mesopotamia—and I've come to love this land, and its people!"
"I've fought off Magical Beasts for them, defended Uruk, and even persuaded Quetzalcoatl to stand with humanity!"
Each bold declaration was like a heroic epic—condensed, but full of struggle and triumph.
"King Gilgamesh tried to reward me several times. I turned him down."
The ancient serpent glanced back at Merlin, Ana, King Gilgamesh, Ishtar, and the others in their group.
The King of Heroes gave a simple nod in acknowledgment and said no more.
Samael turned his eyes back to his Master. His mood grew solemn, and his voice carried a heavy gravity.
"Because that honor shouldn't belong to me alone."
"No one understands better than I do the sacrifices Ere-sama made to protect the souls of the living!"
"To keep their sanity intact, she endured solitude and painstakingly forged the Spear Cages…"
"To stop the Magical Beasts from invading Kutha, she took on the burden of infamy, using the Authority of Death to turn her guardian city into a dead zone…"
"To preserve Sumerian culture, she accepted the world's scorn and curses, joined the Three Goddess Alliance, and sought to take Uruk first to place Mesopotamia under her protection…"
"You may dwell in darkness, but you've done more for them than someone like me who walks under the sun!"
It knows everything?!
The goddess, whose secrets and pretenses were being laid bare one after another, buried her face deeper, her cheeks flushing red, completely flustered.
"Raise your head! Stand tall!"
"This isn't some disgrace to be hidden. It's not something shameful. This is glory—glory that deserves to be celebrated!"
Samael gave her shoulder a firm pat, gently lifted her chin, and locked eyes with her, voice firm and unwavering.
Ereshkigal instinctively straightened her back, though her gaze still wavered, lost and uncertain.
"For thousands of years, you've borne loneliness, faithfully carrying out your duty as a goddess, maintaining the cycle of life and death!"
"For thousands of years, you've had no happiness, sorrow, joy, not even a friend of your own—yet still you created light for the Underworld and preserved reason for lost souls!"
"For thousands of years, you've let humanity blame you for disease, for death, for every misfortune—just so they could be free of guilt and move forward!"
"Isn't all that you've done worthy of recognition? Of praise?!"
"You have more right than I do to stand at the Divine Tower in the royal palace!"
"You deserve the sunlight, the cheers, the praise—more than I ever will!"
Those present stood in silence, struck by the force of his words.
Even King Gilgamesh—arrogant and mercilessly sarcastic as ever—fell quiet, lost in thought.
So this painful duty wasn't just suffering… There were those who bore it willingly, with joy.
So this kindness toward the world—someone had truly seen it and acknowledged it.
Ereshkigal didn't even realize when it happened, but her fear and self-doubt were gone.
Somehow, a quiet courage had welled up within her. As the queen of the underworld, she now met the eyes of every visitor calmly—and in their silence, she sensed a deep and solemn respect.
At that moment, two warm trails slipped past her lips.
She instinctively raised her hand and gently wiped her cheek. Gazing at the glistening liquid on her fingers, she froze.
She was crying…
Even though—she should have been happy.