"Is this for me?" Ishtar finally tore her gaze from the Shining Stone and looked at Amber.
Amber nodded, offering it with both hands. "This kind of stone is a common catalyst for crafting in our world. It has value, but it's not rare."
"Not rare… how much are we talking?" Ishtar asked, swallowing hard.
"Most people can easily carry a few thousand."
"Thousands!?"
Ishtar's breath caught—figuratively, of course. She didn't need to breathe, but the shock was real.
Amber's casual wealth hit her like a meteor. In mortal society, gems were ornamental. The prettier, the pricier. But in the magical world, transparency meant power—more magic stored, more magic transmitted. True magicians used gems as catalysts, not trophies.
Still, Ishtar—this version of her—was utterly weak to gemstones.
"A meeting gift… with such sincerity, it would be disrespectful to offer just one!" she declared, eyes gleaming. "And you, as a fellow divine, surely would have a rich treasury..?"
Amber didn't plan to give just one. She was the Red Kite Immortal, after all. But she had conditions.
"If you accept these Star Stones, I ask that you stop taking treasures from humans."
Ishtar hesitated. "This stone… it's been processed, hasn't it? That shape's too perfect."
Amber blinked. She hadn't checked.
[It has been processed] Fu Hua confirmed.
Amber nodded. "Yes."
"And the pink glow—is that from added magic?"
"Correct."
Ishtar sighed dramatically. "Fine. I'll refrain from collecting tributes for ten days."
She glanced at Amber, then added, "Though I prefer gold. It suits my temple better."
Amber stared. Greedy. So greedy.
"Don't look at me like that! It's natural for a goddess to receive offerings in exchange for protection!"
Ishtar flushed slightly, then huffed. "It's that king of Uruk who refuses to pay tribute! I could've razed the city, but I chose mercy. I protect his citizens—and all I ask is what I'm owed!"
Amber couldn't argue. She'd seen Ishtar protect the citizens. And she knew better than to judge ancient gods by modern standards.
"That's all for now," Amber said, turning to the wagon. With a wave of her hand, Zhenqi surged. The carriage righted itself, and the scattered gems flew back into their boxes.
"You should return to Uruk."
"Yes! Thank you—thank you, both!" The citizens didn't linger. They knew how to survive in this world. Gratitude given, they left without looking back.
Amber turned to Ishtar. "Let's go to your temple."
"My temple?"
"You'll be receiving more gems. You can't just toss them on the ground could you?"
"I could collect them with magic… but fine. Let's take a break today."
One visitor, one host. Though they had just met, they'd already reached the second stage of friendship.
Ishtar's shrine wasn't far. The singularity wasn't large. They flew for a few minutes, arriving at a cluster of basins and hills. Atop the central hill stood Ishtar's palace.
"Is this Mount Abif?" Amber asked, eyeing the unimpressive terrain.
"YES OH! Behold my palace!" Ishtar struck a pose, stroking her hair.
Amber said nothing.
Thanks to Matthew's "evil tonic" of gossip, Amber had heard plenty about Ishtar's epics. Unlike Fujimaru's reverent view of her strength, Amber saw her as… a bit of a sand sculpture.
The Mount Abif incident sealed that impression.
Most people admired mountains. Ishtar? She thought one was so beautiful… she flattened it.
What kind of brain circuit was that?
Not to mention the time she drank with her father, stole his divine powers while he was drunk, and never returned them. And he chased her multiple times, to no avail.
She's like that—how could anyone control her?
Amber exhaled. "Indeed, impossible for ordinary people. That's one of the goddess Ishtar's… traits."
"Just call me Ishtar. We're friends now." She waved proudly. "Come in! You're my first guest since I built this temple. You should feel honored!"
They flew into the palace. Aesthetically, Amber struggled. It was made of stone—trimmed, yes, but still gloomy and dimly lit.
But Amber couldn't bring herself to compliment it.
Ishtar, sensing the awkwardness, felt a twinge of embarrassment. Her vessel's influence told her she should offer hospitality. But… she had nothing.
No servants. No gifts. The palace felt like a down-on-her-luck goddess's hideout.
Before the silence could stretch, the ground trembled.
A deep, unnatural vibration.
Both of them froze.
What was that?