Fate: I Just Want to Die and Sit on the Throne of Heroes-Chapter 61: The White Season, Tiamat Arrives

Chapter 61: The White Season, Tiamat Arrives
Rowe was still working.
Even as his body weakened, the clay tablets leaving his courtyard each day continued to reshape Uruk.
With the system he had designed steadily taking root, his personal workload finally began to lessen. More people were being drawn into the circle of decision making. More talent was being uncovered and properly placed.
Slow, but relentless, change spread through the land.
Under Rowe’s direct push, Uruk tilted away from a primitive city state and toward a vast, layered bureaucracy.
For Rowe, that was something he could quietly feel proud of.
It was more satisfying than any city building game he had played in his previous life.
Of course, while the work grew lighter, his exhaustion grew heavier. His body weakened in a way that no one could ignore. Most days he simply lay in the courtyard, wrapped in quilts, basking in the sun like an old man.
No one else managed to live like an eighty year old at twenty.
From time to time, Gilgamesh would come by. The King of Uruk was no longer as crushed by affairs of state as before, though he still had much to handle. He would arrive with insults on his lips, only to end up verbally beaten until his expression went an interesting shade of green.
Sometimes Ishtar Rin would drop in, loud and unreasonable as ever, only to be wordlessly chased off by Enkidu’s quiet pressure. She never learned.
Most of the time, Enkidu simply held him, her body shielding him from the cold.
The nation grew more prosperous, more grand and flourishing, and people praised ever more fervently the one who had brought down wisdom from the heavens.
The sage’s body grew weaker.
He was sleepy every day.
Countless times he walked back and forth on the road to the Underworld.
He hovered on the boundary between life and death.
“Ereshkigal, I am back again.”
Rowe opened his eyes to the familiar scene of the Netherworld and the figure within it, greeting her as if returning home.
“Honestly… are you actually treating this place as your house?” Ereshkigal pulled him up, but the happiness on her face, framed by her golden hair, could not be hidden.
“Is that not good?” Rowe took the hand she offered and let her help him stand.
“What is good about it… I even gave you the blessing of immortality.” The Goddess of the Underworld sighed.
Her tone complained, but the joy in her eyes betrayed her.
“Cough, cough…”
Rowe covered his mouth as a quiet cough shook his shoulders.
The curse was continuing to seep into his soul.
So it could reach even here, into the Underworld.
That realization made him a little happy.
“Are you really all right?” Ereshkigal’s crimson eyes trembled with worry.
“Of course.” Rowe answered casually. “Do not worry. I will not die.”
“In any case, you are here, are you not?”
“Who… who cares about you,” Ereshkigal turned her head away, cheeks faintly red.
You do not care, yet your hand has not let go.
Rowe glanced at the slender hand gripping his. The goddess’s palm was still soft and delicate.
She might speak harshly, but Ereshkigal was very worried.
After a moment’s thought, she made up her mind.
“Here. Take this. Do not misunderstand. You are, after all, a follower of this goddess. This is only the goddess’s pity. Yes, pity. Do not think too much about it.”
Ereshkigal shrugged off the crimson outer robe she was wearing and thrust it at him.
In an instant, the Goddess of the Underworld stood before him without her mantle. Pale shoulders were revealed beneath the lamplight of the Netherworld, a slender neck flowing downward. The slight lift of her chest drew a graceful curve beneath the thin fabric. Her waist was extremely slender, and below that, the line of her hips arched sharply, leading into long, ivory pale legs.
Her very presence was like a cool night wind. That, mixed with her shyness now, made her almost painfully beautiful.
Rowe froze on the spot.
The goddess’s blush deepened.
In the cold Netherworld, the faint lights of wandering spirits flickered around them.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Facing each other, it felt as if they could hear the other’s heartbeat in the silence.
Ereshkigal swallowed without thinking.
Her moist lips appeared even more enticing.
He would not seriously…
“Rowe.”
A clear voice rang out, splitting the Netherworld’s quiet.
“Is she… the Goddess of the Underworld you mentioned before?”
Ereshkigal went stiff.
Rowe turned toward the speaker.
A plain white robe, bare feet on the cold stone, long emerald hair flowing. The girl walked slowly through the Underworld, her pretty face, under the shifting ghost light, carrying a meaning that was difficult to read.
Enkidu had arrived.
Rowe had never hidden from her that he met Ereshkigal whenever he slept. He simply had not expected Enkidu to actually come here.
“The Divine Construct … wait, how did you enter the Underworld?” Ereshkigal reacted at once. Of course she recognized Enkidu.
“I am a broken divine weapon, a Weapon made by the Gods. I do not possess life in the pure sense.” Enkidu glanced at her and smiled. “Once I reach the extreme of metamorphosis, even the states of life and death can be interchanged.”
Was that ability really meant to be used like this?
Rowe opened his mouth, intending to say something.
Enkidu took a quiet step forward instead and gently tugged on his sleeve.
“It is time to go back, Rowe.”
The strength behind that gentle pull made it impossible to break free.
Rowe fell silent.
“Go back? Wait a moment.” Ereshkigal cried out. “This is my territory. I am the Goddess of the Underworld…”
“Gods? It feels like we have already killed quite a few, have we not?” Enkidu’s tone remained soft.
Ereshkigal fell silent.
It was the same feeling Ishtar had once tasted.
Her body shivered.
A little frightening. No, she was a goddess. She was not afraid.
“No. No one can leave the Netherworld without this goddess’s consent,” Ereshkigal insisted.
“Then we will not leave.”
Enkidu calmly released Rowe’s sleeve and looked at Ereshkigal with a serene smile.
“We will stay here forever.”
“Thank you, Goddess of the Underworld, for your warm hospitality.”
“?”
No one asked you to stay.
“You two may do as you like. Please continue.”
Enkidu folded her legs and knelt gracefully to the side, as if taking a seat in the front row.
This person’s presence is too strong.
Ereshkigal retreated a few steps, making small, bewildered sounds.
Enkidu merely brushed her long green hair back over her shoulder.
To say that she was extremely angry would not be accurate.
The Divine Construct loved Rowe.
But the role she had chosen for herself was very clear.
She was his weapon. The one who watched over him, the one who protected him. Who Rowe was with had nothing to do with her.
As long as she could stay by his side, that was enough.
Very simple. Very pure.
Unfortunately, simple and pure could still cut to the bone.
“It is all right. I am serious,” Enkidu said earnestly. “If you want to do anything, I will not disturb you.”
Who would believe that.
Who would dare to believe that.
“Please, go on.”
Why did it suddenly feel like she had been forced into the role of spectator?
Ereshkigal wanted to cry.
Enkidu’s lips curled in a small smile.
At that moment, Rowe suddenly raised his head, as if sensing something far away. His expression hardened.
Enkidu did the same.
“What is this…?” Ereshkigal whispered.
Even in the Underworld, they could see the change in the surface world.
In the distance, above the sea, a vast void was slowly opening.
In Uruk, countless people also looked up at the same time.
Yes. At that moment, not just Rowe. Almost everyone could see it and feel it.
At the edge of the Mesopotamian plain, the inland sea that would one day be called the Persian Gulf began to convulse. The sea wind roared more violently than usual. Great masses of seawater were dragged into the sky and then hurled toward the shore.
The violent tremors shook the sand on the ground until it danced. The falling seawater turned to rain and scattered across the beach.
Crimson seeped into the horizon where sea and sky met. Like glass shattering, patches of darkness spread and bloomed.
The end of the land was the sea.
The end of the sea was a fractured void.
At the far end of that void, a clear cry echoed.
Aaaaaa.
“So you finally arrived before I died.”
“Tiamat.”
Rowe drew in a slow breath and let it out again, his gaze turning grave.
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