BOOM────
The Priestess Court—once a sacred place where every stone, every flower, every blade of grass had been arranged with divine precision—was gone.
In its place lay only ruins.
"You even went out of your way not to hit the dead priestesses? I really don't get what the point of that is."
Ereshkigal rose from her half-crouched stance, brushing dust from her mantle, lips curling into a sharp, unamused smile.
"I'll cripple you—and make you return the souls you've taken."
Ophis stood atop the shattered roof, several violet magic circles spinning behind her, all locked on Ereshkigal's position.
"They're the ones who performed the dangerous ritual that summoned you, weren't they?"
"They broke the King's law. It is the King's duty to punish them. But they followed a god's command—and you, a god yourself, slaughtered them without reason."
Ophis's voice was calm, almost detached.
"Honestly. Even if that's true, attacking me without warning? How impatient."
"I find it more efficient."
Ophis's shadowed expression darkened further.
"Perhaps my borrowed love can't rival the conviction of the gods—but as long as I have enough power, that's all that matters."
Her gaze burned as she fixed it on Ereshkigal, voice low but steady with restrained fury.
"Only the victor earns the right to speak. So I won't let you deny Enkidu's 'love.'"
"Oh, how overbearing. Though I doubt that's your only reason."
Ereshkigal spoke lightly. A strange, curved blade appeared in her hand—she swung it once, cleaving through one of Ophis's magic blasts before leaping back, dodging the next five in a single motion.
"Even setting that aside…"
Ophis stepped down from the ruins. The violet circles dissolved behind her—replaced by dozens of golden ripples, each releasing cold, gleaming weapons one after another.
Every one of them bore divine-breaking properties, forged to harm gods directly.
"A Sumerian god who sides with Outer Gods, who turns her hand against her own kin; the city goddess of Kutha who slaughtered her own people—by royal authority, I pronounce judgment upon you."
"Yes. The weight of that sin is so great that even I, who bear it, cannot measure it."
Ereshkigal's tone startled Ophis. Her expression didn't shift, yet her voice carried an unexpected gravity.
"Even so—gathering all humans, all souls into my realm below, drawing them into the Underworld—that is my duty, my destiny. To fulfill it without hesitation, I feel neither regret nor guilt!"
Black mist, the breath of death itself, billowed from her form as she leveled her blade at Ophis.
"If you wish to stop me, then come! Destroy my strength, my divinity, my very existence! To defy the gods as evil, to deny the evil of gods—that has always been humanity's way to survive. It is the path they've walked for millennia—and I've accepted it, endured it, and called it good! That is the way of humankind!"
Just as Ereshkigal had said earlier:
Gods are unreasonable. Gods are merciless.
And because of that, in times of ignorance, mortals could heap every cruelty, every injustice, every incomprehensible fate onto the gods—and live with a clear conscience.
Pathetic, yes—but in its own way, also a kind of mercy.
"So that's what you think…"
Ophis murmured, shaking her head slightly.
"Perhaps that's a gentle way to see it. But it's far too arrogant."
At a flick of her wrist, dozens of weapons rained down on Ereshkigal in a storm of gold and light.
Ereshkigal didn't flinch. Her strange blade sang through the air, swatting aside those aimed at her directly while the rest detonated in wave after wave of massive explosions around her.
The weapons from Ophis's treasury didn't explode on impact—they detonated from the overwhelming surge of magic power stored within. The resulting shockwaves could obliterate cities, but against a god's divine resistance, they were little more than noise.
Ereshkigal endured the barrage with ease—until her eyes widened.
A massive golden spear floated beside Ophis.
Ancient runes glowed along its shaft, divine light rippling from it in quiet authority. Though not overwhelmingly vast in scale, its power felt absolute—irresistible.
Ereshkigal recognized it immediately. This was no ordinary weapon.
This was the power of destiny.
"To deny humanity's strength and growth in the name of compassion—to think you alone can bear their weakness, their sin, their ignorance… You gods are far too arrogant."
Ophis lifted the golden spear.
"Then, with this Grand Declaration, I'll pierce through you—and through your arrogance as well."
She realized she'd been talking quite a lot.
Was this some strange habit she'd picked up… or simply impulse, provoked by this particular foe?
It didn't matter.
The body before her wasn't even Ereshkigal's true form—but for her to appear here, even as an echo, was enough.
Ophis didn't need to know the goddess's real location. With this spear, she could strike her across the underworld itself, piercing through the river of fate.
She wouldn't kill her—but she could silence her for a while.
"Fire—"
"Then tell me, by your logic—who will bear it all?"
Ereshkigal's sudden roar broke her concentration.
At that exact instant, the barrier around Uruk trembled. Ophis—her focus divided—instinctively turned her awareness toward the city.
"Now!"
Ereshkigal didn't waste the opening. She lunged forward instantly.
"Tch…"
Ophis snapped back, ignoring the surge of hostile energy, and leapt backward. Chains shot from her golden ripples to intercept—but Ereshkigal was already upon her.
"No matter what, I'll drag you into the Underworld!"
Shhk!
"Uuhh!?"
In Ophis's wide eyes, Ereshkigal—apparently too desperate to care for dignity—drove her blade through Ophis's torso as she tackled her to the ground.
Then, lowering her head, she pressed her lips to Ophis's, sealing them in an abrupt, bewildering kiss—
While Ophis stared back at her, expression growing stranger by the second.