The crimson light of the Underworld blazed as usual as squads of Garuda Spirits patrolled the different areas divided by the Seven Gates.
"Whoosh!"
As they passed through a secluded valley, an inexplicable breeze stirred. A faint, smoky trace rippled through the air and brushed past one squad of Garuda Spirits.
At the rear of the formation, three undead soldiers carrying sword and shield, spear, and bow slightly slowed their steps and looked toward the dense Death Qi.
Their jaws parted slightly, red light flickering in the sockets of their skulls as their left hands instinctively reached for the neck vertebrae that had only recently grown back.
Something seemed to have passed by just now?
Yet even when they tried to think back, their hollow skulls could not piece together the slightest impression.
Still, a shuddering revulsion born of instinct arose within them.
It was as if some presence had awakened their instinctive fear.
"Roar!"
Just as the three distracted Garuda Spirits were about to fall behind in their confusion, an Underworld Guard at the front—twice their size and clad in bone-like armor—turned its head.
Its upper and lower jaws scraped together, its soul fire leaping violently as it let out a shrill, sinister tremor.
The three new recruits who had stopped in place hurriedly came to their senses and rushed after it, their two leg bones each marked with obvious bite and fracture scars.
Whatever that earlier illusion had been, it could wait.
If they kept spacing out, their leader might tear them apart, absorb their soul fire, and use it to fill the ever-present hunger of the Garuda Spirits.
Of course, to them, the most delicious food was undoubtedly the scent of exceptionally vibrant living beings.
To think I'd run into familiar faces I'd beaten senseless before. What a coincidence.
Deep within the secluded valley, the human figure who had activated Beast's Authority to blend his aura with the surrounding environment merged into the death mist and looked back.
A moment later, the man calmed himself, cut off that trace of nostalgia, decisively turned around, and continued whipping up a breeze as he sped between the rocky cliffs.
Several hundred breaths later, the man broke through the gray fog barrier at the mouth of the valley and nimbly leaped into a hidden realm he knew well.
Sitting alone atop a green stone and attending to her usual grooming, Saint Shamhat turned at the sound and teasingly examined the human who had barged into Enkidu's grave.
"You're here? Faster than I expected..."
The only one capable of withstanding the erosion of the death mist, evading the Garuda Spirits' senses, and reaching this place, no matter how his appearance changed, could only be that little thing.
Well, perhaps he could no longer be called little.
Saint Shamhat curled a finger beneath her radiant chin, her strange gaze lingering for a long while on an indescribable part between the man's legs.
That inexplicable, scorching gaze seemed capable of easily piercing through the man's thin cloth and seeing certain indescribable things.
I heard snakes have two of those things. I wonder...
"Smack!"
Amid a crisp sound, one of the pale claws of the saintly ghost was casually slapped away by the dark-faced man.
"Teacher!"
The man's lips twitched as he squeezed out a dry warning through clenched teeth, his gaze filled with intense vigilance toward the woman.
Tsk, how boring...
The mature seductress, having failed to get her way, withdrew her hand with little interest and stepped forward at her student's glance.
The man then raised a birdcage-like metal weave and shook it before him.
A clear chiming sound arose from nowhere and spread outward. The Cuneiform Runes engraved upon it sent out golden-blue ripples, drawing Shamhat's soul-form into it.
The Soul Cage was a special vessel once used by Ereshkigal, Goddess of the Underworld, to preserve spirits.
It could shield its contents from the Garuda Spirits' senses, preventing them from going berserk after catching the scent of a living soul.
At the same time, it ensured that the souls placed within it would remain unharmed in most situations and environments.
That was precisely why the ancient serpent dared to drag soul-form Shamhat aboard this pirate ship and prepare for a grand escape from the Underworld together.
Wrapped in dense gray Death Qi, the ancient serpent darted swiftly onward. His movements were so violent that before long, the cage carried a complaint from Teacher Shamhat.
"Hey! Little Samael, stop shaking it around! I'm getting dizzy..."
"Bear with it. There isn't much time. I have to rush out of the Underworld before the afterglow of the temple fades."
"Otherwise, once Ereshkigal returns, we're finished!"
The ancient serpent snorted softly, his brow tightly furrowed. Not only did he fail to slow down, he instead began an utterly frantic long-distance sprint.
The jagged black rocks on both sides, the ghostly blue flames drifting across the wilderness, and the Garuda Spirits flashing past him all sped backward.
Still, to ease Shamhat's supposed dizziness, the man separated off a portion of his Aether Factor to wrap around the Soul Cage and casually brought up a topic.
"Teacher, how much do you know about things like the Fate Tablet?"
During his final conversation with his master last night, this Underworld Goddess had been unusually evasive about that object.
"Oh? The Fate Tablet? Hehe, which one do you mean?"
Within the cage, Shamhat idly wound a lock of green hair around her right index finger, her tone carrying an inscrutable teasing note.
"Which one? There are many Fate Tablets?"
The serpent-like vertical pupils in the man's eyes contracted slightly, and his expression grew solemn.
"Of course!"
"In Mesopotamia, humans were tools and livestock meant to serve the gods, though the two were kept apart."
"Their exchanges usually began with the gods delivering revelations. Then priests and priestesses interpreted divine intent and inscribed the proclamations upon clay tablets for public display."
"Such tablets that heard the voice of heaven and conveyed divine intent could be called Fate Tablets."
When it came to her field of expertise, Shamhat continued twirling her hair and spoke at length.
Divine will was destiny?
The man frowned slightly. He had gained a new understanding of that oppressive relationship between gods and humans, but this was not what he wanted to know.
"And?"
"Oh, there is a second kind. Records left on clay tablets by those with the ability to foresee the future, after they inadvertently glimpsed what was to come or received inspiration from the world."
Shamhat paused, then continued explaining to her student.
This was undoubtedly like the Fate Tablet King Gilgamesh had left behind when he passed through Kusa.
Yet the man was not satisfied. His gaze burned as his voice gradually lowered.
"Teacher, you know that isn't what I'm asking about..."
"What exactly is the most important Fate Tablet?"
"If you are still hiding something from me at this point, then I'll have to reconsider our cooperation."
The faint smile on Shamhat's face vanished at once. Her eyes flickered as she looked up at the black vault of the Underworld, her expression complicated and wary.
"The Divine Authority Seal, the Destiny of All Things!"
"Legend says that it records the beginning and end of everything in the Mesopotamian world. After creation, no power could surpass it!"
Suddenly, the man recalled Ereshkigal's lesson, and a thunderclap exploded in his mind.
"The Fate Tablet in King of Kings Marduk's possession, the one recording humanity's Four Ages!"
"Shut up!"
In an instant, Shamhat's face turned deathly pale. She cried out sharply, terror and despair surging in her eyes. The ancient serpent's murmured answer seemed like a death warrant placed before her.