The Wind of the Underworld Howled Past

At the deepest level of the profound, dark Underworld, there was nothing but cold rock.

Faint blue ghostfire glimmered against itself.

It was the last trace of warmth left behind by the souls of the dead, and the only light in the Underworld.

Amid the clustered flames, within a desolate temple built from piled rubble, Ereshkigal, Goddess of the Underworld, raised her head from the Divine Seat. A hint of surprise appeared on her delicate face beneath her flowing golden hair.

She... could not believe it.

She had heard that voice clearly, both its source and its words.

She had heard someone in the mortal world say... that he admired her?

Moreover, that voice and that presence were exceptionally familiar to the goddess who wandered the silent Underworld.

"Was that you... the one who let me see the light of day once more?"

The goddess understood. She slowly closed her eyes.

So you... admired me?

The word "admiration" was both familiar and unfamiliar to Ereshkigal.

It was only natural for gods to be admired, for admiration was also a kind of faith. Gods were admired for their radiance, and through admiration, became the faith in people's hearts.

But that applied to ordinary gods.

As the Goddess of the Underworld, Ereshkigal was unwelcome among the gods. In the mortal world, she was feared as the embodiment of death.

She had never possessed faith, much less admiration.

And yet, someone had said that he admired her.

And it was the very person who, after countless years, had allowed her to see the light of the mortal world.

Who was he?

Had he torn open the gap between the Underworld and the mortal world... for her sake?

She wanted to know who he was.

She wanted to see his face, to see what he looked like.

She wanted... to go to the mortal world.

A freezing wind suddenly echoed through the cold land.

The goddess's shadow remained upon the throne.

But her soul seemed to have already gone far away.

Toward the mortal world—

"You..." After a long silence, Ishtar's voice rang out once more in a deep alley within Uruk Royal City. "Are you telling the truth?"

Time flowed on. The last rays of the setting sun had long vanished beyond the horizon, and vast night shrouded the sky as starlight shone like countless brilliant fireflies.

A streak of moonlight silently slipped through the gap between the houses and fell upon Rovi.

He looked at Ishtar, whose expression was complicated, startled, and angry, then curled his lips into a smile. "Do I have any reason to lie to you?"

"Don't underestimate me, Goddess—even if nothing else, I was once a Temple Priest of Uruk!"

Yes, Ishtar at this moment still did not know that Rovi had challenged the gods who sought to interfere with his fate and arrange his future. To the Venus Goddess, Rovi was not someone profoundly disrespectful toward all gods, but a priest who had become a temple attendant at a young age.

He would not lie about something like this.

So—

If she wanted to attack, then she should hurry up and do it!

To him, a mortal who did not care about her in the slightest, had even insulted her, yet admired her sister...

Taking advantage of that information gap, Rovi spread his hands, looking entirely at her mercy.

Yet what greeted him was merely Ishtar's soft sigh. Her earlier shock and fury seemed like nothing more than an illusion.

Rovi froze.

Had he failed after all?

He was not surprised.

He had known it already. Ishtar, influenced by Rin Tohsaka, would not want to kill him over something like this.

In Rovi's estimation,

after he said those words, she would either become enraged or... sigh with emotion.

"She has already heard you," Ishtar said inexplicably.

The night was cool as water, the moonlight like frost.

As the goddess's words fell, Rovi kept his eyes open, yet the figure in his sight suddenly twisted.

It was as though two shadows had appeared in the same place, similar yet different.

"She heard what you said. In her heart, she longs to see you." Ishtar's voice drifted on the wind. "But she is very afraid."

The goddess's crimson eyes were filled with conflicted emotions.

Ishtar had always pitied her sister, who remained in the deepest part of the Underworld forever, as though imprisoned.

But as the daughter of the heavens and mistress of the sky, just as the Underworld Goddess could not leave the Underworld, Ishtar would never set foot in it either.

For beyond pity, she also feared Ereshkigal somewhat.

Yet this was the first time someone had told her that he admired her sister, the symbol of death.

Something even she herself had never done.

Yet he had said it aloud.

Firmly and without hesitation, he had declared it openly.

It was precisely under those inexplicable emotions that Ishtar restored the shared connection she had always possessed with Ereshkigal, one that had been severed for countless years for various reasons.

She knew Ereshkigal had heard Rovi's words.

Ereshkigal's heart had also been stirred.

She wanted to come and see Rovi.

Thus, Ishtar accepted a portion of Ereshkigal's consciousness, just as Ishtar herself had descended through possession.

It caused their shadows to overlap upon her body.

Now—

"She has come, but she does not dare meet you."

Ishtar murmured softly, repeating herself.

"She only wants to look at you."

"To look at you, the only person in the mortal world who admires her."

"And then leave."

The overlapping shadow gradually gathered upon Ishtar's body.

Rovi saw a goddess extremely similar to Ishtar. She was hazy and indistinct, yet he could still make out her flowing golden hair and crimson eyes identical to Ishtar's.

Ereshkigal.

Or rather, she should be called the Goddess of the Underworld.

Ereshkigal.

Like Ishtar, she too had descended into this body through possession.

But she had not fully revealed herself.

Just as Ishtar had said, she had only come for a glance—to see the appearance of her first and only admirer.

She was also afraid that if Rovi truly came into contact with her, he would reveal fear.

That the admiration would vanish completely.

She really was...

The sort of personality he did not know how to describe.

The complete opposite extreme of Ishtar.

Yet at that very moment, the wind swirling through the air abruptly became frigid. Darkness descended like a curtain, concealing the mistress of the Underworld behind it and turning her into a hazy shadow.

The descent of the Underworld Goddess naturally brought with it the wind of the deep realm, a symbol of death.

It cut off the path and blocked any step Rovi might take forward.

It was a wall the living could scarcely touch.

—However.

The Underworld Goddess appearing directly had not exceeded Rovi's expectations. To him, it was actually just right.

Though death, which represented the end, was an extremely terrifying thing—whether to humans, objects, or even gods.

Rovi was different.

He was desperately yearning for death!

How could he possibly let this opportunity go?

She had already come. How could he let her run away?

Rovi stepped forward and reached out to touch the wind from the Underworld.

His heart was filled with excitement.

Today could be said to be the moment since he had transmigrated... when he was closest to death.