Half a month later, early one morning.
A figure moved quietly through the deep valley. Just as it was about to slip past the shroud of deathly mist and reach the path leading directly to Mount Ebih, the figure froze at the intersection, stopping in its tracks.
In the tense, awkward air, a pair of blood-red, serpentine pupils lifted, gazing toward the cliff ahead.
Or rather, at the two figures standing side by side on the cliff's edge.
"What a coincidence. Out for a morning walk too?"
Samael's eyes darted uneasily, the smile on his face stiff and strained.
Ereshkigal and Ishtar looked down at the ancient serpent blocking the path, their calm expressions edged with scrutiny.
"Right, I haven't made breakfast yet. You two go on ahead, I'll head back right now."
Samael tapped his head in mock regret and started to turn away.
But two packages suddenly dropped from above the cliff, landing directly in front of him.
Glancing at the cracks in the bundles—magic crystals, rune tablets, and all sorts of travel supplies visible within—the serpent forced a bright, flower-like smile.
"Ah, so you already knew I was heading to the surface. Helping Siduri with government affairs, assisting with the assessment of that new Sumerian king, right?
You even packed everything I'd need for the journey. How thoughtful of you. Don't worry, I'll finish quickly and be back in no time."
From the cliff above, Ishtar crossed her arms and snorted coldly.
"Cut it out! Siduri told me herself—you requisitioned Noah's Ark and had it moved to the Persian Gulf port near the observatory."
"Where exactly are you planning to assess this new king? Overseas?"
Head Priestess, you betrayed me!
The serpent's eye twitched. He never would have thought that the loyal, clear-eyed minister would so easily spill every secret task he had entrusted to her.
"Alright, since I can't hide it anymore, I'll tell you the truth! It's…"
Samael looked at the two figures making their way down the narrow mountain path. Taking a deep breath, he set his expression into one of solemn gravity.
"…Teacher Shamhat!
She and King Gilgamesh want me to travel overseas to invite a number of reclusive sages.
They're survivors of humanity's Golden Age—like old Ziusudra. Having once received divine blessings, they possess long lifespans and vast knowledge. Many of them are still alive today.
Even the Herb of Immortality discovered by King Gilgamesh, and the successful construction of Noah's Ark, were only possible thanks to their aid.
Now that Mesopotamia is in ruins and rebuilding is urgent, they are exactly the kind of talent the city-states desperately need. Among them, there might even be someone more suited to kingship."
Ishtar gave him a strange look. One hand went to her forehead, as if she couldn't bear to watch him speak so seriously. The other elbow nudged Ereshkigal at her side.
"You tell him."
The goddess of the underworld cleared her throat, her tone low and steady.
"We think you've been acting… off these past two weeks."
Ishtar rolled her eyes, planted one hand on her hip, leaned forward, and jabbed her finger at the serpent's nose, biting out each word.
"Something. Is. Very. Wrong!"
"You do whatever we say. You obey whatever we ask.
Usually, you're either busy in Paradise Lost, helping Ere grow flowers and muttering every day about wanting them to bloom faster, or dragging me all over the Underworld on treasure hunts, or teaming up with ghosts to scam them at gambling.
And on top of that, you've been cooking three different meals a day, constantly trying new recipes, even going out of your way to seek advice from chefs above and below ground!"
As Ishtar vented, Ereshkigal kept nodding in agreement, finally adding quietly,
"So… we went to ask Gilgamesh."
"He said you were most likely planning to run away, and that before leaving, you were trying to compensate us as much as possible..."
The Great Goddess of Uruk propped up her chin, a mocking smile spreading across her face as something occurred to her.
"And that guy buried under piles of clay tablets even offered a rental service.
If we wanted, we could bind you through the Gate of Babylon and summon a short segment of the Chains of Heaven.
But that gold-glittering bastard never does anything without profit. His rent was too high, otherwise… we really might have borrowed it."
Gilgamesh, damn you!
The serpent's face darkened, his smile twitching, while inwardly he cursed furiously.
All I did was trick you into serving as the chief judge of the Underworld, weighing the good and evil of souls!
And I still fought to get you a cushy arrangement—permanent post, nine-to-five hours, room and board, a house while alive, a grave when you're dead.
Ungrateful bastard! You did this on purpose!
Choked with anger, the serpent's thoughts scrambled for some way to argue, to salvage the situation.
At that moment, Ereshkigal patted his shoulder with quiet sympathy—then delivered the final blow.
"Um, Shamhat told us that if you tried to run, you'd probably take this path..."
"So Ishtar and I came here early to wait."
Damn it!
A backstab with a combo and crit damage on top of it! You two are unbelievable!
Samael felt like crying but had no tears. He squatted on the ground, drawing circles in defeat, his back aching while his spine crackled under the weight of despair.
"I think they were afraid you really would run away."
"After all, there aren't many left who can talk to you..."
Ishtar rested one hand on the serpent's shoulder, her tone carrying a deeper weight as she spoke.
"Forget it. I'll accept it. Let's go..."
Realizing his escape plan had failed completely, Samael rose with slumped shoulders, raising both hands before him as though ready to be bound.
The plan was in shambles, and any pretense of secrecy was gone.
Besides, apart from Shamhat and Siduri, he hadn't fought any of them before.
If he didn't accept his fate, what else could he do?
Get beaten to a pulp and dragged back like a corpse?
"Smack!"
Ishtar suddenly slapped his outstretched hands away, snorting with irritation.
"What are you thinking? If you want to go, then go. We don't care!"
Ereshkigal lifted her face, her fingertips brushing lightly along the serpent's cheek as though memorizing its shape. Her lips pressed together, and she whispered softly.
"But at the very least, say something. I don't want you disappearing without a word again like last time."
Samael froze, startled, then slowly lowered his hands.
"So… you came here to..."
"Of course to see you off! Did you really think we'd drag you back and hang you at the door to dry out like a snake?"
Ishtar scoffed, her voice dripping with mockery as she turned her head away.
"I'm sorry..."
Samael's eyes filled with remorse. He took a deep breath and spoke with solemn resolve.
"The world of Mesopotamia has already taken shape. It's begun to sink into the surface, and the Age of Gods can no longer continue.
I think that's why the Mother Goddess was rejected—because this world can no longer contain her.
According to everyone's speculation, if we go back to a World where the Age of Gods still flourished and was more malleable, and establish an anchor point there, then perhaps the Mother Goddess could return."
"This is something I must do!"
The ancient serpent lifted his head, his expression grave, laying bare his determination to Ereshkigal and Ishtar.