Chapter 113: Rowe's Mech Will Eventually Meet Gilgamesh Again
In the myths passed down by later generations, God King Zeus, after defeating the Titan Giants, received a prophecy from Gaia, the Mother of Earth.
Gaia foretold that in the future, Zeus would be defeated by his own child with Metis, the Goddess of Wisdom.
For that reason, Zeus swallowed Metis. Yet even then, he could not truly prevent an heir from being born. The "son" became a daughter instead.
That daughter was Athena in the original myths.
This world, where all gods are machina gods, was naturally different. Even so, Athena still possessed the qualifications to become a King of the Gods, because her origin was not simply that of a goddess. She had been born as a reserve flagship fortress for a star fleet.
That was why she could gather so many gods tied to natural concepts beneath her banner, binding them as subordinate gods and forming her own minor pantheon under Zeus.
That was also why Zeus forced her into the identity of a "virgin goddess."
He wanted to cast a layer of dust over her mind, to keep Athena from ever seeing her own essence clearly.
Now, that dust had been wiped away.
Athena becoming the fourth generation King of the Gods after Zeus, in the future, was already inevitable.
"Damn it… I knew I should have sealed her long ago!" Zeus muttered in his combat persona.
Hera massaged her forehead and quietly took a few steps farther away, as if distance could protect her sanity.
Far off, Apollo casually turned his head and looked up at the sky. He watched the light and shadow of the solar corona cast by his subordinate god, Helios. For some reason, the thought surfaced that having his sister sit on the throne might not be so bad.
…
Deep in the Abyss, Cronus finally lost the last shred of self awareness.
Along with it, he lost the cold intelligence and divinity of the Atlantis machina god.
Because Rowe's consciousness, supported by the future King of the Gods Athena, poured in at once and covered that massive machina god completely.
Cronus vanished.
Rowe controlled Cronus, or rather, the machina god that had once been Cronus became part of Rowe's existence, another form of his being.
The enormous foundation it brought filled the gap Rowe had suffered from for so long.
Of course, devouring always came with loss. Something would inevitably be worn away in the process.
Even so, it was enough.
In an instant, Rowe completed a leap in rank. He crossed from an island scale regional chief god into the highest tier among chief gods, a continent scale planetary chief god, a level that could be called King of the Gods.
Athena, who had assisted Rowe in that leap, also benefited.
In the future, she was already the King of the Gods.
In the present, she had only brushed away Zeus's shackles and held the potential for promotion, nothing more.
Yet now they were interdependent, pressed close, skin against skin. The primordial aura that overflowed as Rowe completed his promotion wrapped around them like a tide. It pushed the already emotional goddess deeper into herself.
Athena's waist tightened. Her breath trembled. She wanted more, desired more, longed for the presence of the man she held, as if the aura itself were nourishment.
In that same moment, she also crossed the threshold.
From chief god to King of the Gods.
A King of the Gods was the ruler of a pantheon.
Crimson storms intertwined around them and formed a natural barrier, blocking every possible gaze that might intrude.
Rowe had regained the ability to move, yet he could only let out a quiet sigh.
He felt numb.
But pushing her away was not his style.
He had already told Heracles. He knew he had stepped onto a road with no return, but among the two kinds of scum, he despised the irresponsible kind even more.
He had always wanted to return to the Throne of Heroes and reclaim his power. That insecurity came from living in a foreign world, a dangerous world. It also came from his own greed.
So, he closed his eyes and let Athena take what she wanted.
His hand rested at her waist, slid along the curve of her hips, then held her steady.
The world beyond the crimson storm vanished into silence.
Only the feeling of collision remained, rising and falling in layers, until the very end.
A buzzing sound echoed through Tartarus.
Rowe snapped his eyes open.
Athena was still dazed, but the fog of emotion began to lift. Her gaze was no longer what it had been before. In the past she had always hidden herself, always found excuses for her feelings.
Now, the shackles around her heart had broken.
When she looked at Rowe again, it was with love she did not try to conceal.
"Rowe, be my only beloved."
Her silver hair spilled down. Her delicate body swayed slightly. Her red eyes shimmered like stars filled with light.
Saying words like that at a time like this.
Then what were you doing earlier.
Rowe glanced sideways, then suddenly smiled.
Only beloved.
That was Athena's new vow, and this time it was not forced by an oath or a decree. It was a pledge she made willingly.
She would not change it, and she would not permit herself to change it.
She would be the future ruler of the pantheon.
Yet at that highest seat, she would not stand alone. She was willing to share it with Rowe, even to offer everything she possessed, and that naturally included her glory.
That was the sincerity and weight of a goddess's love.
Or perhaps the future of Greece would become an era where both men and women carried equal significance.
Rowe slowly released Athena.
"Wait for my return."
Athena understood what he intended to do. Worry surfaced at once.
"You will not die, will you?"
Rowe wished he could say yes.
He could not.
So he only replied.
"No."
Then he took a step toward the deeper core of Tartarus.
With each step, his body grew taller. His shadow stretched countless times, like it was being pulled by the molten light.
His robe deepened into the color of steel.
Armor like silver white rose along his head, his shoulders, his frame.
His body became massive, layered in metal, the curves of it holding a hard mechanical beauty. From his back, wings unfurled, built from dense frameworks of steel.
From human, he transformed into a machina god.
A form extremely similar to Cronus, yet undeniably different.
A new life form Rowe had gained after devouring Cronus.
The form of a wielder of authority.
Rowe, the machina god.
Roar!!!
The Titan Giants under his control threw back their heads and roared.
Behind him, the Goddess of War put her silver armor on again. She gripped spear and shield tightly and stood with solemn calm.
He said he would not die.
So she chose to believe him.
She would wait for his return.
"Come."
Rowe clenched his steel forged fist. The moment he closed his hand, the authority of Dominion manifested.
It fused with Poseidon's representation of the sea, and with the promise Poseidon had given him.
Vast power surged like an ocean.
It rose and fell in layers and engulfed Tartarus in an instant.
Boom, boom, boom.
Like war drums.
Like the beating of a heart.
The space woven by the flaming currents throughout Tartarus began to contract.
Rowe was completing the final step of devouring Tartarus.
He clenched his fists, then spread his arms, as if embracing a world.
The rotating force of the primal stars poured out from within his massive machina god body.
Waving.
Flowing.
Hades, Lord of the Underworld, suddenly turned his head.
Zeus, God of the Sky, cried out.
Poseidon, God of the Sea, smiled.
In Arcadia, Atalanta sat on a tree branch, swinging her legs and staring into the distance.
On the Argo, Heracles was clinking glasses with Jason, who had just returned, still frivolous, yet now carrying a heavy heroic aura. Heracles suddenly looked far away.
Chiron halted among the mountains.
Within the blooming "flower," Enkidu's eyelashes trembled slightly.
The contraction of Tartarus sparked a subconscious sensation in the minds of all living beings.
Crimson drowned awareness.
The chaos of the abyss covered everything the eye could hold.
Athena stood in Tartarus and watched the world contract.
She watched herself go from standing amid blazing currents to standing within a void.
It was not that she moved.
It was that the environment itself changed.
Brilliant divine light bloomed around her. The authorities of her subordinate gods gathered and circled her.
Athena, now bearing the specifications of a King of the Gods, fully integrated her powers. She wove divine glory into a crown and set it upon her head.
Then she opened a magnificent divine realm within the void.
She stepped forward slowly.
Ahead of her, Tartarus had vanished.
Rowe had vanished as well.
He had succeeded.
He devoured Tartarus completely and incorporated that abyssal world born in primordial times into his massive machina god body, using it as an endless energy source to drive the machina god.
Yet the aura of primordial chaos crushed him in the same instant.
He "died."
From the abyss he crossed into the Underworld and reached the boundary of death.
Athena bent down and picked up something from where he had stood.
A key.
Or rather, the shadow of the Key of Heaven.
"If he returns, it will be through this key."
Athena clasped it tightly, a gentle smile appearing on her beautiful face.
She pressed it to her chest, close to her skin.
The so called Key of Heaven had always been Rowe himself.
The future King of the Gods, Athena, gained enlightenment in the abyss.
She witnessed the complete demise of the Titan Giants.
She witnessed the final collapse of Tartarus, the primordial abyss.
She also witnessed the hero's step from human to god.
The sole ruler who dominates all phenomena, bearing wings far beyond steel.
From then on, he entered the Underworld.
His dependents also crossed the world's boundary and stepped into an unknown world.
"Establish a nation to guard its King."
Roar!
In the far North, where the roots of the World Tree reached, one of the three lowest worlds among the nine realms of Norse myth, the land of giants, Jotunheimr, the Titan Giants that Rowe had sent there roared.
Possessing the massive, sturdy bodies of Norse giants and the power of the Greek second generation gods, they charged the original giants of that realm.
They would establish a new giant nation here, one that would wait for the return of their King, their dominator.
And before that, they would search for the goddess they had glimpsed once.
Ereshkigal, the Mesopotamian Queen of the Underworld.
"Strange giants…"
At the top of the World Tree, a silver haired Valkyrie named Brynhildr lowered her gaze and tightened her grip on her spear.
…
Thump.
Rowe landed on both feet, already returned to human form.
He opened his eyes.
Darkness.
Depth.
No light, no shadow.
Only sprawling black stone, piled and stretched into the distance.
Beside him, a cliff dropped away into an abyss whose bottom could not be seen.
Cold currents swept through the air, carrying the stench of death.
There was no doubt.
This was the Underworld.
A place Rowe had traveled to countless times.
Now dead, Rowe would inevitably reach the boundary of death. According to his original plan, he would shed the last shell of his soul here. He would leave behind only a core of essential spirit, preserve every imprint, ascend to the Throne of Heroes, and reclaim all his power.
It was just…
Different regions belonged to different pantheons. Different gods governed different underworlds.
Their underworlds should differ accordingly.
So why did this place look exactly like the Underworld of Mesopotamia.
The scenery.
The atmosphere.
The taste of death in the air.
None of it was different.
And why did he hear such a familiar voice.
Rowe glanced sideways and looked into the depths.
"AHAHAHAH. This King thought some trespasser had stepped into my domain, brilliant as sun and moon. Instead it is you, wild dog, who ignores this King's decree and runs rampant everywhere!"
"To dare to shake the world the moment you return!"
A dazzling golden shadow appeared amid the laughter.
Those words.
That laugh.
Rowe could not possibly mistake it.
Gilgamesh.
How could he be here.
Was this not supposed to be the Greek Underworld.
Questions flooded Rowe's mind, yet his mouth moved first.
"Why is it you again, foul mouthed Gilgamesh."
He stared into the dark depths above.
"Hmph. I was about to ask you that."
The figure stepped forward.
Arms crossed.
Golden hair still brilliant.
Skin restored to its former cleanliness.
Tall.
Robust.
Golden shoulder armor and a battle skirt.
Crimson patterns etched across his exposed skin, striking even in this darkness.
The serpent like shadows in Gilgamesh's eyes widened.
"You used power I did not permit."
"You took on responsibilities that should have been mine."
"Then you left without permission."
"And now you trespass into my new courtyard without permission."
Gilgamesh spread his arms.
"Your sins are already numbered in the thousands. Even ten thousand deaths would not pay your punishment."
"Bullshit."
Rowe raised his hand and lifted his middle finger, as if it were habit carved into his bones.
"AHAHAHAH. Even cast out of the world, a wild dog still cannot stop barking."
Gilgamesh was not angry.
He looked, if anything, pleased.
Is this bastard a masochist. The more you curse him, the happier he looks.
Rowe could not help it.
He laughed too.
"Idiot," he said.
"Brain dead," Gilgamesh shot back.
Then he paused.
And his voice shifted, just for a moment, into something unguarded.
"Welcome back, my friend."
Surprise.
Doubt.
Then absolute certainty.
The former King of Uruk, now ruler of the Mesopotamian Underworld, had sensed Rowe's presence and immediately rushed to negotiate with Hades.
Now, finally, he confirmed it.
It was truly Rowe.
The method of confirmation was strange, but that hardly mattered.
No matter how many years had passed, Gilgamesh had waited.
And now the wait had been worth it.
My friend.
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