Ophis climbed slowly toward the summit, cradling a faintly glowing golden sphere in her hands.
"You came?"
With the same gentle smile as always, Enkidu's sacred figure appeared before her.
Ophis tilted her head, eyeing the bloodied hole where Enkidu's heart should have been. Then she hooked a small smile herself—and tossed the golden sphere toward Enkidu.
"You look awful."
"Can't be helped. The previous holder wasn't exactly cautious or careful," Enkidu said with a shrug, catching the sphere.
"Still, I'm lucky. My essence is that of a Servant, so as long as you provide magical energy, I can function even without my core… although it hurts like hell."
As she spoke, Enkidu stepped forward and flicked Ophis's forehead with a gentle chop.
"Mm?"
"I'm talking about you," Enkidu said, exasperated. "You've been pushing yourself far too hard. And what was that earlier? Same body, different operator—just blow it to bits. Why hold back? To me, you're countless times more important than that troublesome impostor, you know?"
"Mmph…"
Ophis puffed her cheeks.
It was true. The first time she fought Kingu, she'd hesitated—uncertain whether she could truly strike Kingu down. And that hesitation had made her doubt further: should she resist fate and fight this "Enkidu" in front of her?
That hesitation nearly flipped the board entirely. She'd almost been killed by Kingu's all-out Noble Phantasm.
It was then that she received Enkidu's message from within Kingu's body:
Follow your heart. Do it without holding back.
So Ophis chose to resist fate with everything she had, confronting the Mother Goddess head-on.
"Pff… mm."
Enkidu poked her cheek, deflating it. Ophis tried to bite the finger—but Enkidu casually drew back, dodging easily. Ophis clicked her tongue, sulking.
Only in front of Enkidu did she ever act her age.
For the record: a dragon's first hundred years were infancy. Ophis, barely over a hundred, could at best be considered early childhood.
Seeing a flash of pain cross Enkidu's face from that movement, Ophis sighed and stopped trying to retaliate.
"If Enkidu had obediently answered a direct summon instead of hiding inside that impostor's body, I wouldn't have made that mistake… But since Enkidu insists, from now on you'll assist me in achieving my goal. No objections, right?"
Enkidu answered with the same gentle smile as always. She pressed the golden sphere into the hollow in her chest, and with a burst of golden light, her body became whole and unblemished again.
"That was force majeure. The world wouldn't allow two identical existences in the same spacetime. If our timelines had differed, perhaps… but we're both 'Enkidu at full strength before death.' The fact I wasn't directly assimilated is already something to be grateful for." Enkidu's gaze softened. "Probably because the other operator's personality differed too greatly from mine."
Then she sank to one knee with solemn gravity.
"As for assisting you… that is only natural, Master. Your seventh Servant—Lancer, Enkidu—answers your summons. My only Master, the one I acknowledge across past, present, and future… please, command me freely, fully, without hesitation."
...
"My King, please."
Beside Ophis, Siduri respectfully offered tea.
Her King had been sitting here for nearly two days.
In the past, two days—or even two months—meant nothing to Ophis. But through their shared blood, Siduri couldn't shake the sense that this time, Ophis wasn't refusing to move—
She couldn't move.
Not knowing the truth, Siduri could only serve her King even more diligently.
Ophis nodded and accepted the drink.
By her reckoning, it was nearly time for Tiamat to break the seal.
Two days ago, Ophis had forcibly used the Ouroboros's unparalleled spatial power to seal Tiamat between spacetime's cracks. The essence of that technique was dragging the enemy out of this world together with herself. At the moment of activation, she and the target had to occupy the same spacetime "tier"—which forced Ophis to endure Tiamat's strike head-on, leaving her current injuries.
Ultimately, it was because the technique had only just been completed—half a year of work, tailored specifically against Tiamat—and Ophis still hadn't mastered it.
The seal was dangerously incomplete. To suppress her Infinity before it spiraled out of control, Ophis had no choice but to roughly cast Tiamat out, then immediately return to her spacetime and retract her damaged Infinity.
Afterward, severely injured, Ophis couldn't sustain the unfinished seal. She was left with only one final plan...
Using the Underworld to push Tiamat back.
Whether due to being an Evil of Humanity, a creator deity, or both, Tiamat seemed to possess an attribute: as long as humanity lived, she could not die. Therefore, only the Underworld—a realm devoid of living humans—could restrain her…
Naturally, "outside the world" worked too, but Ophis no longer had strength to spare.
[I can suppress your injuries, but doing so will leave me no room to shield you from the mastermind's gaze. Stay alert.]
Ophis nodded, then turned to Siduri.
"The survivor count?"
Siduri trembled and lowered her head.
"Of the forces under your command… from the original cavalry of two hundred, fifty-three remain. By your orders, they guard the Northern Wall. They wanted to return and die alongside Uruk, but were forcibly restrained."
"The first unit that returned to defend the city has seventy-nine left, plus the two hundred and two who arrived later, totaling two hundred eighty-one. These elites await orders in Uruk."
"The City Guard numbered five hundred. One hundred and six remain, stationed at the Northern Wall."
"Regular troops were nearly wiped out in the final battle against the Demonic Beasts. Two hundred seventy-two remain, also positioned at the Northern Wall."
"Lastly… the eight temple guards. That is the status of all military forces."
"And the civilians?"
"…Those monsters you named 'Lahmu' seemed to specifically target human life. They bypassed Uruk, deliberately attacking evacuating civilians, causing severe casualties."
"So, how many remain?"
Ophis pinched the bridge of her nose.
"In total… six hundred ninety-three…"
"That's no longer enough to sustain a civilization," Ophis said.
Siduri bowed even lower.
"Are you grieving, Siduri?"
"My King…"
"This is not something worth mourning."
BOOOOM!!!
Ophis sipped her tea, about to continue—when a violent tremor shook the ground.
"My King—Tiamat—Tiamat has appeared!"
Ophis spat the tea out in a spray.