"Boom!"
The ground trembled, dust and smoke exploded outward, and at the last second, the figure clutching Ishtar was blasted away by the shockwave, skidding dozens of meters across the ground.
"Whew! Samael! Nice one!"
The palm-sized mini goddess, relieved to be alive, clambered up onto the ancient serpent's shoulder and smacked him on the cheek.
"Pfft—!"
But in the next instant, Samael's face turned pale. A dull ripping sound echoed from his clothes as streaks of blood burst from his arm, thigh, and lower abdomen.
The godforce-infused shockwave had carved through him, dark red blood gushing from the deep gashes.
His body buckled as he dropped to one knee, gasping for breath.
Fortunately, his immortality kicked in. The torn flesh and damaged nerves rapidly began to regenerate.
"Ereshkigal! We already settled this—why are you suddenly losing it again?!"
Ishtar glared at the bloodstained ground, clenching her teeth, fury rising in her chest.
She wasn't bluffing. That last attack had been a real attempt to kill her!
The miniature goddess of Uruk steeled herself, shot into the air, and shouted at the towering dark red skeleton.
"All because no one came to see you, you sit around sulking, hiding in the Underworld and complaining every day!"
"Now we're finally here and you throw a tantrum? No wonder he ran from you!"
"So what if you met him first? When he was with me, he never even said your name!"
"With your constant self-pity and wild outbursts, how could anyone possibly want to be close to you? How could anyone like you?!"
The outstretched finger bones of the dark red skeleton clenched tight around the spear wheel. With a furious roar, it looked up and bellowed—
"Shut up!"
"You, who've had everything handed to you—what right do you have to judge me?!"
A terrifying pressure surged outward, stirring an icy wind. Ishtar was swept through the air like a butterfly with torn wings and smashed into the ground.
Worse still—Ereshkigal wasn't just angry. She was furious. Jagged spikes burst from the ground beneath where Ishtar was about to land.
Samael didn't wait to fully recover. He launched himself forward, yanking the miniature goddess to safety just in time to escape the deadly spires.
But his body was still weakened. He was a moment too slow—one of the rising spikes pierced straight through his left arm.
The dark red skull slowly lifted its head. In its hollow sockets, flames flickered as it stared at the twin pools of blood on the ground.
"Samael! I command you—get out of my way!"
"Ere, calm down!"
"Even if Ishtar said something to make you angry, you've punished her enough!"
"Come out of there. Let's talk this through!"
Glancing down at the trembling miniature figure huddled in his arms, Samael clenched his teeth and stepped forward, trying to reason with her.
Ereshkigal was clearly consumed by rage—and she did have a track record of stabbing Ishtar to death.
If he backed off now, she might actually do it again.
But the moment he finished speaking, Gilgamesh and Merlin—still lurking on the sidelines—simultaneously covered their faces and yanked Ana back before she could step in.
And then, what was meant to be calming words turned out to be the spark that lit the powder keg. Hellfire erupted around the dark red skeleton.
A voice—cold, wrathful, brimming with boundless resentment—echoed from the creature cursed with the [Seventeen Disasters].
"You're helping her?! Why… why are you taking her side too?!"
"Liar! Liar!"
With a thunderous crash, the massive radiant spear slammed down.
Samael could only grit his teeth, clinging tightly to the defenseless Ishtar as he dashed aside.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Under Ereshkigal's command of the Underworld, massive stone pillars surged upward one after another, trying to crush the pair darting between them.
And through it all, the grief-stricken roars from the dark red skeleton grew louder with every breath.
"Accuse me?! And for what?!"
"Why is it I who must guard the Underworld, enduring thousands of years in darkness—while you get to fly free beneath the sun?!"
"Why is it that no matter how hard I try, I still bear the curses and hatred of the dead—while you bask in the love of the gods, even when your disasters rain down on humanity, and their faith in you never wavers?!"
"Why is it that in my Underworld, not even a single flower blooms, not even the faintest trace of warmth—while you make the earth flourish and life take root?!"
For reasons even she couldn't fully grasp, thousands of years of pent-up bitterness erupted from Ereshkigal. Her spear wheel swung down in fury, like swatting a fly.
"Boom!"
Wait... was that slower?
Samael barely dodged the blow, noticing the shift in her movements. The swing wasn't as sharp—it gave him a faint sense of hope.
Across from him, the dark red skeleton leaned silently on its spear, murmuring faintly.
"I can let the past go…"
So, that was it? Was the storm over? Could he start the next round of heartfelt persuasion?
But before he could open his mouth, the spear slammed into the ground. All around, jagged stone pillars burst upward—like scaled-down mountain peaks rising from the abyss.
Kur Kigal Irkalla: The Bellows of Kur that Tramples upon Ekur: a divine authority that reshaped the terrain of the Underworld itself.
Samael's heart sank. A chill swept through him.
This wasn't just a tantrum anymore—Ereshkigal was genuinely ready to kill.
Her teeth clenched, and her voice rang out, cold and sharp.
"But you had everything—why did you take the one thing that mattered most to me?!"
"Unforgivable! Absolutely unforgivable!"
The oppressive weight of divine wrath made it hard to breathe.
And learning that all of this... was because of him—Samael didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
I'm literally right here, aren't I? Was all this really over a petty stamp-seal spat?
Just as he was about to raise his head, ready to throw himself at her feet to quell her fury, Ereshkigal's voice cut through the gloom, laced with grief and rage.
"Samael! If you don't move…"
"I'll kill you too—even you!"
"Bang!"
The colossal stone pillar above them dropped with brutal force, soaked in deathly miasma. The surrounding energy field twisted and dragged, making Samael feel like he was being dragged into quicksand.
Now he finally understood what "losing it" really meant. His whole body went cold.
"Let go! Run!"
"If you keep hesitating, she really will kill you!"
Ishtar's face was pale as she pushed hard against Samael's chest with both hands.
But the more she urged him to flee, the more he couldn't bring himself to leave her behind.
Just as the falling stone pillar was about to flatten them both, a massive blade—shaped like a greatsword—burst through the air, cleaving the threat apart.
At the last possible moment, Gilgamesh intervened.
Simultaneously, Merlin swung his staff, stacking suppressive spells, while Ana—impatient to act—lashed her chain around Samael's waist and yanked both him and Ishtar out of the danger zone.
But this act of saving them was tantamount to choosing sides—and it only enraged Ereshkigal further. The boulders suspended in midair began to rain down in furious waves.
"What the hell is going on?! Even with her temper, Ereshkigal would never go this far without a reason!"
Finally catching on, Samael looked around at the chaos—light beams streaking, rubble falling—and frowned.
"You really don't know what it means to be a 'Shepherd Priest'?"
Merlin, staff in hand, quietly teleported the others away, shooting Samael and Ishtar a long, unreadable look.
Shepherd Priest? What else could it mean?
Shepherding in the name of the gods, leading the flock of "believers"...
Then Samael's face froze.
Shit. I jumped to conclusions.
This isn't just a priest—it's that Shepherd Priest.
"The High Priestess of the Uruk Temple selects a young man each year to perform the 'Sacred Marriage' ritual, held before the New Year festival at the spring equinox—when Venus rises…"
"In this rite, the priestess represents Ishtar, the guardian goddess of Uruk. The young man symbolizes Dumuzid, the 'Shepherd King' of Sumer…"
"This ritual traces back to the origins of the Sumerian dynasty. It represents the union of divine and royal power—a blessing upon the city."
"And if the Shepherd Priest is chosen personally by Ishtar…"
At that moment, Merlin leaned in and whispered darkly into Samael's ear.
The ever-smug man even gave him a knowing thumbs-up, flashing the kind of expression all men understand.
The great goddess, still curled up in Samael's arms, suddenly felt like a frog caught under a snake's gaze. A chill ran up her spine.
With an awkward smile plastered on her face, Ishtar bolted like a startled grasshopper.
And immediately, two icy gazes—narrow and reptilian—locked onto her, dissecting her from head to toe.
Two fingers reached out from behind and daintily pinched the fleeing goddess.
The cold, furious laughter grinding out between clenched teeth nearly froze her blood.
"You've really outdone yourself, haven't you... Ishtar."