"Altera?"
The girl in pure white had quietly ascended the wall without anyone noticing.
"Are you sure?"
Altera gave a slight, indifferent nod.
"Mm. Then it's up to you."
Ophis nodded in return. The question had been only a final check of Altera's resolve.
Arjuna's long-range power made him the safer choice against Girtablilu, whose own attacks reached vast distances. Altera, by contrast, would have to close in before striking—a far riskier task.
Yet her strength was undeniable, even surpassing Arjuna's in certain respects. There should be no issue.
Besides, Arjuna was better suited to guarding the walls, his precision ideal for interception. Altera's presence on the battlefield would leave fewer blind spots around her immediate range.
This arrangement—Arjuna on defense, Altera on the hunt—was more fitting than the earlier plan.
"Don't go too deep," Ophis cautioned after a moment's thought.
No matter how strong Altera was, an endless swarm could still wear her down.
Then Ophis remembered something.
"Merlin, you can see the Scorpion Man, can't you?"
At her question, Merlin smiled, eyes gleaming faintly.
"Oh? You just realized that? Of course I can see him. Though he'll probably notice my gaze the moment I use it."
Girtablilu was no mere beast. As one of Tiamat's Eleven Children—the progenitors of all monsters—his existence bordered on divine. If the gods themselves could sense Merlin's Clairvoyance, then so too could one of them.
"We have only one chance," Ophis said firmly.
Once Girtablilu realized he was being watched, he'd vanish again, cloaking himself beyond detection. They had to strike the instant he was found.
"Merlin, Heracles, Altera—you can sense where my Noble Phantasm struck before, right? Head there and activate Clairvoyance immediately."
Her tone carried a quiet weight. This time, she wouldn't allow even a small oversight.
"Altera will initiate the assault. Merlin, use illusions to cover the battle and prevent any misfires. Heracles, you'll move under Merlin's command—assist Altera, guard Merlin, or stop any beasts that break through. Use your judgment."
"Yes, yes, yes. King Ophis, you sound just like an overprotective mother. Don't worry—leave everything to me."
Ophis's foot connected sharply with Merlin's back, sending him tumbling off the wall. She exhaled faintly, then looked to Altera.
"I'll leave this to you."
Altera nodded once and leapt down after Merlin. Ophis gave Heracles's elbow a light pat, and the giant followed without hesitation.
"Inform Jeanne of the earlier attack and have her strengthen the wall's defense. Then summon Medea from the Priestess Court."
After dispatching the last messenger, Ophis stood alone atop the wall, releasing a quiet sigh.
Medea could both heal and assist the troops—and, most importantly, if the trio failed to locate or kill Girtablilu, Medea's Noble Phantasm would be their only reliable method of continually restoring the wall.
…In fact, with her around, perhaps the wall wasn't as fragile as it seemed.
Ophis almost smiled at the thought. Medea was so unassuming that Ophis often forgot her entirely, even though the girl's contribution—despite her modest combat power—was indispensable.
If not for the new "Magical Girl" event—no, the new damage to the wall—Ophis might've overlooked her completely.
Still…
Her eyes narrowed as she looked north, toward the faint silhouettes of Merlin and the others fading into the distance.
Something within her was restless.
After a brief hesitation, her form dissolved into soft violet light—and vanished.
...
Far north of Uruk's walls, deep in the forest, a wide clearing opened—unnaturally circular, several hundred meters across. At its center yawned a crater, scorched and immense, as if something had detonated there.
That explosion had been Ophis's doing. Since the Gate of Babylon's projectiles couldn't strike precisely at that range, she'd detonated the shot on impact. Yet even that hadn't been enough to capture the target.
Altera landed soundlessly in the crater's center, scanning her surroundings before kneeling to pick up a fragment of hardened shell.
She crushed it between her fingers. The shard disintegrated into dust.
"Fragile…"
"I wouldn't say that," Merlin's voice came lightly from behind her. "Judging from the composition, it's built to reinforce itself when infused with certain energies."
He strolled into the clearing as if on a leisurely walk, Heracles's heavy steps following close behind.
"Where's the enemy?" Altera asked.
"Well… while it's fair to assume Girtablilu's nearby, checking too deeply right now would alert him to our presence," Merlin replied.
"Then find him before he runs—and destroy him."
Altera's gaze flicked toward him, cold and unwavering.
"Ah, of course… I'd say 'let me handle it,' but—hmm. It appears that won't be necessary."
A deep, rasping voice echoed from every direction at once.
"Foolish, obsolete humans. You've walked straight into my grasp."
"Oh, now that's a classic villain line," Merlin commented, tone bright. "Tell me, is that echo magic or some special monster trick? Also, does it have symbolic meaning or are you just doing it for the drama?"
"…"
The voice fell silent for a moment, as though genuinely thrown off by his barrage. Then it spoke again, low and contemptuous.
"The one you serve fears you will die here. I, however, see only mortals with inflated pride and borrowed power. You've come of your own will—into a trap carefully prepared for you. Die here, swallowed by an endless tide of demonic beasts."
The air trembled. Crimson lights flared one by one across the forest, and the ground quivered with the low growl of countless creatures.
Altera's eyes narrowed. Beasts—hundreds, maybe thousands. But their master's location remained hidden.
Very well.
If she couldn't find him—she would simply annihilate everything else.
With a flick of her wrist, a rainbow-hued, tri-colored sword appeared in her grasp—its shape deceptively simple, its radiance dazzling. She raised it smoothly to strike.
But Merlin stepped forward, his grin sharp as a blade.
"'Scorpion Man' Girtablilu, was it? I hear you bear the title of Sage. Tell me, O wise one—at what point did you start believing the illusion that it was your army surrounding us… and not ours surrounding you?"
The moment his voice fell, the forest erupted—an uproar of snarls and panic, as chaos tore through the ranks of the unseen horde.
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