Semiramis, Empress of Assyria, ancient mistress of poison.
She was also fated to be one of the participants in a future event known as the Holy Grail War. Perhaps, someday, their paths might cross.
The Holy Grail—the omnipotent wishing vessel. It summons seven heroes from across different eras to the same stage, where they contend for its ownership. The final victor receives its blessing, their wish granted.
Samael narrowed his eyes, his expression thoughtful.
Where did the idea of the Holy Grail even come from?
In Christianity, it was one of the most famous relics—symbolically infused with the precious blood of Jesus Christ. Those baptized were invited to drink from it, receiving blessings that washed away their sins and granted powers such as rejuvenation and resurrection.
Yet, as far as Samael knew, Marduk, the King of Kings, was God himself—and in a sense, the "elder father" of Jesus, the Christian Son of God.
A sudden thunderclap went off in his mind. His pupils contracted sharply.
Wait. The Holy Grail... it might not have belonged solely to Jesus.
In fact, perhaps its origin didn't come from that divine son at all!
The King of Heroes, Gilgamesh! The Great Grail of Uruk!
And more—the very catalyst that triggered the three great storms of Mesopotamia had also been a Holy Grail, forced through the Hole in the Sky!
There were seven of them in total, belonging to Goetia, the Demon King who sought to burn away human history!
And Goetia was a consciousness born from the corpse of King Solomon.
In Samael's memory, after Solomon's death, the seventy-two Demon Pillars sealed within his corpse developed independent wills. They falsely claimed to be Solomon himself—thus, in their eyes, they were the King of Magecraft Solomon—and began the grand project of turning all humanity into energy. The Incineration of Humanity, gathering spirit particles to reshape the planet.
From that perspective, even King Solomon possessed his own Grail.
The Mesopotamian Three Great Storms, born from the Great Grail of Uruk...
The Human Incineration, carried out by Goetia through the seven Grails to create seven Singularities...
The Holy Grail Wars, whose conceptual foundation was laid by the deeds and legends of Jesus, the Son of God...
No wonder—anything touched by the Holy Grail ended in disaster.
From the way these three threads intersected, one thing was clear: you never gave up, Jehovah, King of Kings.
The ancient serpent lightly bit at his fingernails, his brow knitting and loosening before he finally lowered his hand. His gaze shifted to the Hero King, still bent over the endless judgments of the dead.
"King Gilgamesh, among the peoples and nations of the surface, are there any who follow a monotheistic god?"
Gilgamesh's hand hesitated, then after a moment he frowned in thought.
"There are. The Jews. Israel."
Even though Samael had half-expected it, his pupils tightened involuntarily.
After thinking it over, the ancient serpent trimmed down his fears and speculations, then voiced a solemn warning to those of the Underworld.
"You mean... the founding of the Jewish nation may well be orchestrated by the Father God—no, by Marduk?"
Ishtar's breath caught, her face full of disbelief.
Ereshkigal, Enkidu, Gilgamesh, and the others likewise traded grave looks.
How long had it been since the Divine War ended? And already he stirred again?
Or perhaps the so-called peace after the war had only ever been their wishful thinking. Marduk had never let go of his hold over the world.
Their eyes met, each gaze filled with deep apprehension.
There was no helping it—the impression left by that King of Kings was far too profound, far too overwhelming.
In the Divine War, the human side had fielded a lineup beyond compare.
Just counting Main God-level beings, there had been five great goddesses: Gorgon, Ishtar, Ereshkigal, Jaguar Warrior, and Kukulkan.
On top of that came a Grand Assassin, a near-Grand Magus, the Chains of Heaven, the Wedge of Heaven, and Samael himself, the one who defied fate.
And yet, when they confronted Marduk at the Temple of Ea, they were completely defeated.
It was only thanks to the desperate opportunity everyone bought with their lives for the Mother Goddess Tiamat that they managed, at the very end of the Fate Tablet, to turn the battle and claim victory.
Looking back now, that win had been utterly draining, hard-fought, and owed no small part to sheer luck.
But now, Tiamat's divine consciousness had gone traveling with Samael. Of the five great goddesses, three had departed. Even the once-united Sumerian city-states had fallen to conquest by other tribes.
If Marduk were to descend again, even if they poured everything they had left into the fight, the souls of the Underworld might still be unable to stop the ambitions of that King of Kings.
The thought alone smothered the once-lighthearted atmosphere. Even Gilgamesh furrowed his brow, murmuring with a cold laugh.
"No wonder... I could never understand how those Israelites—the old, the weak, the sick, the crippled—managed to slip past the pursuit of Ramesses II and cross the storm-ravaged Red Sea."
"Born in sin, living over four hundred years within Egypt's lands of civilization, then at last granted divine forgiveness, returning to the promised land to found a nation..."
"This kind of rhetoric—isn't it exactly the favorite tune of that mongrel Marduk? Seems those Jews have already been tamed."
Ishtar immediately pulled out a handful of gems, grinding her teeth, her eyes flashing with malice.
"Why don't I just go wipe out Israel? If one Noble Phantasm isn't enough, I'll use two!"
Idiot! You're weak as it is—how dare you strut in front of Marduk?
What if Israel's hiding a card that can call down their God? Aren't you afraid your "dear father" might descend and give you a beating?
Samael's lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes.
"Ishtar, that's reckless! And utterly inhumane!"
Hearing Ereshkigal's calm rebuke, and seeing her pull Ishtar back, the ancient serpent finally exhaled a little.
Thank goodness. Even if that fool can't be counted on, at least my master keeps a level head.
"How about I just dig a tunnel in secret, link it to the Underworld, spread death's miasma, and round up all the Jewish souls!"
Ereshkigal's eyes gleamed as she tightened her grip on her Spear Cage. Her palms itched with anticipation, eager to try.
She had done it before—not just in Kutha, but in Uruk too. She knew it well.
Then Enkidu stepped forward, laying a hand on the restless goddess's shoulder, his expression grave.
"If we strike at night, I can use the Chains of Heaven to seal the vessels that allow spiritual descent."
"What's a tunnel! Even if I can't show myself directly, earthquakes or flooding the rivers would work! My Gugalanna isn't just for show!"
Ishtar raised Gugalanna—the Bull of Heaven—palm-sized, piglet-like in its clumsy cuteness, yet "majestic and mighty"—and refused to be outdone.
Watching this gathering of goddesses and sages casually discuss how to swiftly wipe out an entire human nation, Siduri and Shamhat's lips twitched, their faces darkened.
Even if Israel had little to do with Sumer, couldn't they at least spare a thought for the feelings of the two pure-blooded humans present?
"Are you fools trying to laugh this king to death?!"
"What good is destroying Israel, you idiots?!"
Two furious shouts erupted at once.
Gilgamesh, veins bulging at his forehead, grabbed clay tablets and smacked each of the three troublemakers squarely on the head.
Samael looked at the trio kneeling side by side, clutching the swelling lumps on their heads as they confessed and repented, and felt a strange sense of sympathy for the blood-pressure-rising King of Heroes.
Whether in Greece or in Mesopotamia, life was never easy.
...
For more chapters, feel free to follow me on P@treon.
(50 Chapters Ahead)
[email protected]/PinkSnake