Chapter 43: Beast! She's Still Just a Child!

"Good morning, Ana..."

The next morning, the ancient snake pushed open the door and window, greeting Ana, who was also stepping outside.

"Mm, good morning, Samael..."

After spending some time together, the purple-haired girl had relaxed a little, finally daring to meet her new companion's eyes and respond softly.

Then, as if remembering something, she fidgeted with her fingers and mumbled.

"Last night..."

"The corn cakes were delicious. Thanks..."

Samael smiled knowingly, reached out, and gently patted Ana's little head. As he leaned closer to her cheek, the corners of his mouth curled up.

"As thanks, I'll handle breakfast today. What do you want to eat?"

"Butter cake!"

Her eyes lit up as she looked up in surprise, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"The stove's not lit yet... might be a bit tricky."

"Is that... not okay?"

Samael rubbed his chin, his brows slightly furrowed. Ana's head drooped in disappointment.

"Well, I just meant I'll be too busy in the kitchen. If you want some, you'll have to come help out."

"Besides, Merlin's not getting any this time, so you can eat as much as you want—until you're full!"

The troubled look on Samael's face shifted into a teasing grin. He flicked her smooth forehead with a curled finger.

Ana winced, clutching her forehead and taking a step back.

Realizing he was joking and hearing his promise, Ana's eyes sparkled. She nodded hard and took the chance to drag Merlin's name through the mud.

"Mm!"

"No share for Merlin!"

...

An hour and a half later, the two of them arrived at the meeting spot in front of the royal palace's divine tower, right on time.

The white-haired Incubus, who had been waiting there for a while, watched from a distance as Samael and Ana waddled over, their bellies noticeably round. His expression turned strange as he dramatically rushed forward.

"Ana! What happened to you, Ana?! Who did this to you?!"

"It was Samael! The result of our hard work!"

Completely missing the trap in the Incubus's words, Ana proudly lifted her chin, her face still smudged with a bit of white cream.

"You beast! She's just a child! How could you do something like this?!"

The Great Sage clutched his chest in mock agony with one hand while pointing at Ana's round belly with the other, his face full of righteous fury.

Samael's face darkened, and his fingers twitched.

He'd learned something new today: this white-haired Incubus, who delighted in stirring trouble and watching people react, was really asking for a beating.

"If you say one more word, want me to explain exactly what you just implied?"

The ancient snake stepped forward, whispering darkly in Merlin's ear.

He didn't need to fight this immortal Incubus himself—he could just let Ana handle it!

And if needed, next time he'd slip some ale into the butter cake. Let the young goddess get in the mood and slice this bastard up!

Sensing an ominous chill crawl up his neck, Merlin let out a dry laugh and took a cautious step back. He had a healthy fear of the immortal-slaying weapon "Harpe" in Ana's hand.

Getting stabbed over a few offhand jokes would be a pretty pathetic way to die.

"Alright, time to get serious. We're heading to see King Gilgamesh now."

Rarely ever this composed, the Magus of Flowers immediately switched gears and took the lead.

Still clueless about the malicious intentions of the two adults, Ana dazedly followed after Samael.

As usual, Samael scanned the area, taking in the layout of the royal palace and divine tower. His mind wandered to Shamhat's lessons about Uruk.

In truth, the city-state's power structure was broadly divided into three parts: the royal palace and divine tower, the sacrificial grounds, and the shrine of the priestesses.

The royal palace symbolized the divine authority granted from above—it served as both the bedchamber and administrative hall of the Hero King, Gilgamesh. Most government decrees were issued from there.

Secondly, the shrine of the priestesses symbolized divine authority. Its members were responsible for interpreting divine will and conveying the decrees of the gods.

In some cities, the words of these priestesses and temple priests carried more weight than royal commands or laws. Backed by the name of the gods, they wielded immense power, which inevitably bred corruption and filth.

According to Shamhat's complaints, each temple controlled resources of astronomical scale. They were obscenely wealthy—yet still insatiable—and repeatedly attempted to use divine authority as a means to usurp royal power.

Most of these so-called "reverent" priestesses and priests were actually masters at exploiting the people.

Of course, under the rule of Gilgamesh—a king who tolerated no dissent—those who overstepped were quickly dealt with. His iron-fisted authority kept the ambitions of various city priesthoods buried in secret, never daring to challenge royal power openly.

Even so, when the great Three Storms swept across Mesopotamia, the hidden malice within these religious factions was indirectly exposed.

As the storm began to rise, the priestesses and temple priests abruptly lost divine protection. Their divine arts weakened dramatically.

Rumors spread in certain regions that Gilgamesh had offended the gods, inviting disaster upon the land.

Backed by the shrine of the priestesses, many northern city-states defected to the Three Goddesses Alliance, praying for forgiveness and condemning the "foolish tyrant."

Unfortunately for them, they ran straight into the most unreasonable of all—the Goddess of Demonic Beasts, Gorgon.

Livestock trying to reason with gods could only expect one outcome: early slaughter.

So, those collaborators in the northern cities who enthusiastically "welcomed the imperial army" were all thrown into the Blood Temple by Gorgon, becoming fodder for producing magical beasts.

It's said that when Gilgamesh heard the news, he couldn't stop laughing. He frequently brought up the incident just to rub salt into the wounds of those priestesses and priests.

Moreover, the King of Heroes used this as leverage to pressure temples and priesthoods across the land into making hefty donations—squeezing every coin from those vampiric hoards.

After all, where else would he have gotten the funds to construct the Absolute Demonic Front and the Babylonian Treasury?

But having lived as elites for so long, these priestesses and priests couldn't accept their fall from grace. They refused to adjust to their new reality.

And so, led by the Uruk shrine, a group of priests and priestesses secretly began conducting summoning rituals.

After multiple rounds of grueling sacrifice, only one goddess responded—drawn by the lure of gemstones.

That was Ishtar, the city goddess of Uruk and Mistress of the Heavens.

The shrine had intended to use a true god's descent to suppress the arrogance of the Hero King.

But luck wasn't on their side. During the ritual, the deity they summoned turned out to be two beings in one: the dual-faced Ishtar and Ereshkigal.

Weakened by repeated setbacks, the paltry offerings and manpower the shrine had scraped together were completely insufficient to sustain the descent of two main deities.

The High Priestess overseeing the ceremony was abruptly drained of life and died on the spot.

The remaining priestesses and priests collapsed into weakness and unconsciousness. Chaos erupted.

No one even had time to cast binding or suppression spells. The goddess, who had merged and descended on her own, simply refused to acknowledge the pact—and ran off.

This fiasco left the priesthood in utter ruin.

They had emptied their coffers to hire a bodyguard, only to lose control of her—and their leader's life in the process.

Naturally, this turned into yet another running joke for Gilgamesh, whose laughter over the affair reportedly made his abs ache.