Fate: I Just Want to Die and Sit on the Throne of Heroes-Chapter 62: The Song from Imaginary Number Space

Chapter 62: The Song from Imaginary Number Space
The gods led by Shamash in Imaginary Number Space had already done everything they could to stop Tiamat’s advance.
Even so, after a full month of resistance, the primordial Mother of the Chaotic Sea still broke through their defenses, tore open the world, and stepped through.
The difference in power was simply too great.
To be honest, Rowe was already surprised they had managed to delay her that long.
“Enkidu, let's go.”
In the cold Underworld, eerie blue flames flickered and reflected off the stone. Even here, the ground trembled faintly from the sudden, terrifying presence approaching the surface.
Rowe coughed lightly and glanced at Enkidu.
“We cannot let Gilgamesh face her alone.”
There was nothing more to think about.
He was going to die sooner or later. He had already given up on fearing death. What was left to hesitate over?
“But your body…” Enkidu’s brows knit in quiet worry.
“It is fine. I will not die anyway.” Rowe replied casually. “You will protect me, will you not?”
“Mm.” Enkidu nodded, no longer hesitating. “In that case, you must hold on tightly like this.”
She took his hand, her delicate face completely serious.
Rowe did not refuse.
“I, I will help as well.” Ereshkigal spoke up quickly. “If the chance comes, I will act through the Underworld.”
The Goddess of the Underworld’s body trembled slightly. It was the instinctive fear a god felt for the one who had created her. Even so, for Rowe’s sake, she forced that fear down.
“Then let us move.” Rowe nodded. “Ereshkigal, send me back to the living world first. My body…”
“After that, we will go and intercept Tiamat.”
…
“Aaaaaa.”
The sound that bled out from the depths of Imaginary Number Space became clearer and closer with each passing moment.
Most people could not see the truth of it. At most, they could only look toward the distant sea and see the sky burning a deeper and deeper red, like a spreading fire, its core turning into a profound darkness.
But in Rowe’s eyes, now that he had returned to the surface, beneath that crimson sky and in the void over the restless sea, a colossal figure was slowly approaching.
She was larger than the Bull of Heaven. Heavier than Humbaba. More sacred than the gods, yet more terrifying than death without a goddess to receive you.
Tiamat.
The Creator God of Mesopotamia.
In the earliest age, when God Ea, as the embodiment of planetary rotation, split the chaotic atmosphere and stabilized the world, there came afterward the birth of Tiamat, the Sea of Chaos.
She was the primordial ocean that nurtured all things, the common mother of every god. Rock, flame, forest, thunder, storm, all things and all phenomena had once been shaped from her authority.
And in the end, the gods betrayed her.
In that primal, untamed world, they ambushed the primordial Mother for the sake of their own ambitions.
They split her body, the Sea of Chaos, in two, and from that wound heaven and earth were created.
Yet as a primordial god, Tiamat’s soul was immortal. The gods could not kill her. Their only option was to cast her into the endless Imaginary Number Space and try to bury her there forever.
It was around that time that the gods received a revelation from the world itself.
Tiamat would one day return.
That was the fear that had gnawed at them for countless ages.
And now the prophecy had finally come due.
Only the ones who stood waiting were not gods, but humans who had personally driven the gods from the sky.
The Starry Ark flashed overhead in a streak.
At the boundary where the folded blue sea met the sand, chaotic undercurrents had already begun to churn.
Gilgamesh, at the front as always, stepped down from the Ark.
The King of Uruk had been seated in his palace, consulting with his officials, when he felt the anomaly. He had immediately ordered the gates sealed, then rushed here.
Rowe had already warned him in advance that Tiamat was coming.
So everyone had been prepared, both in body and in mind.
Not to join the battle.
This was not a fight for the common people.
It belonged to Gilgamesh, to Rowe, to Enkidu, and even to Ishtar and Ereshkigal.
The sea wind roared, carrying that clear, terrible cry closer. Gilgamesh, descending from the Starry Ark, wore an unusually solemn expression.
“Tiamat, hm…”
He narrowed his eyes toward the horizon. Then, as if he had sensed something else, he suddenly snorted.
“So the dying stray dog still has enough strength to bark?”
From the trees behind him, a familiar, dry voice answered.
“Cough, cough. Insulting you is still no problem.”
Sunlight slanted through the branches, breaking into dappled fragments on the sand. Enkidu walked out of the forest, bare feet sinking into the soft shore, white robe fluttering as she approached.
She said nothing at first, only stepped closer and carefully set Rowe down from her arms.
His body was useless; his power was not. Even so, his frail frame made it impossible for him to move quickly on his own. For long distance sprints, he had no choice but to depend on Enkidu.
“A sick dog should stay in its kennel. Crawling around outside so pathetically will only make people laugh.”
“That is enough.” Rowe rolled his eyes. “Keep it up and I will hit you again.”
Gilgamesh’s expression jerked.
It was like telling the Jade Emperor in a certain tale that he had been beaten by a monkey.
“Besides, do you think everyone is born able to fly?” Rowe added, completely serious.
Gilgamesh’s scarlet gaze dropped to their hands, still clasped together after Enkidu set him down. The corner of his mouth curled into an odd smile.
“AHAHAHAHA. Are you envious? If you beg this King, this King may consider allowing you to share this King’s mount.”
“No need,” Rowe refused immediately. “If I ride that thing, someone might mistake me for Gilgamesh and beat me to death instead.”
He paused.
Now that he thought about it calmly, would it not have been simpler to rob the Starry Ark earlier?
He fell into brief, serious reflection.
At the same time, a bright voice drifted down from overhead.
“Ah, ah, I finally caught up with you.”
“You did not even wait for this goddess.”
Ishtar descended from the sky, crimson jacket billowing as the tips of her toes touched the sand. She flicked her long black hair back with a flourish.
As a goddess, she had been resting in her temple. The moment she heard that voice from the sea, she could not sit still.
“This King thought you, the goddess who fears death, had already run away,” Gilgamesh said coldly.
“How could that be? This goddess still has an account to settle with this man.” Ishtar did not bother to look at him. Her gaze fell on Rowe, lingered for a few beats, then slipped away as if nothing had happened.
“This goddess is only here for the treasures he promised me. Do not misunderstand. It is not because I am worried about his safety.”
She was as proud as ever.
Rowe’s attention, however, shifted to her feet.
Moo.
With a trembling low cry, a tiny white elephant shrank back behind Ishtar, shivering all over.
Though its appearance was completely different from before, Rowe knew this little creature very well. It was the Bull of Heaven that Ishtar had tamed earlier.
It had belonged to the goddess Ishtar.
Now that Ishtar was gone, it was only natural that Ishtar Rin had taken it under her control.
Rowe had seen it several times these past days and had the vague feeling that the little thing was growing more and more afraid of him.
While they traded words, the sea itself stirred again.
Out on the horizon, where the crimson light had gathered, there came a series of clear tones. The distant, ethereal calls suddenly grew much louder.
She was here.
Everyone present understood what that meant.
Tiamat had arrived.
In the Imaginary Number Space behind that dark rift, in the vast sea stained red, a titanic shape stirred.
“Is that the primordial Mother Goddess Tiamat?” Gilgamesh’s eyes widened slightly.
Even so, he could not see clearly.
Even with his highest grade Clairvoyance, the figure moving within the void remained indistinct.
It was like the first time he had tried to search for Rowe at a distance and found even his vision refused to focus on the man.
The young Gilgamesh was dazzling in power, but compared to his later self, his spirit and insight were still incomplete.
And Clairvoyance was nothing but the visible form of that inner eye. On the path of observation and wisdom, the Gilgamesh of this era was still a few steps behind the King he would become.
Enkidu and Ishtar, lacking Clairvoyance altogether, could only see a vast, blurred shadow.
Rowe, alone, saw every detail.
Perhaps it was because he had already revealed the true form of the Key of Heaven.
As the embodiment of Ea’s world making power, the force he held was, in its nature, no less than that of the primordial Tiamat.
So he became the only one who could meet the Mother Goddess’s gaze directly.
Rowe’s sight slid upward, over the long, crossed legs wrapped in deep blue dragon scales.
Tiamat’s appearance was neither monstrous nor solemn.
Her hair was like water, a great cascade flowing down her back like a waterfall. Massive dragon horns spiraled from either side of her head, framing her delicate face like a crown forged from the sea.
Scale plated shoulders, the gentle swell of a mother’s chest, a flat, taut abdomen traced with patterns of the primordial ocean. Her crossed legs curved into a smooth, rounded line, and from that line a long, slender dragon tail, also covered in dark blue scales, extended and swayed lazily behind her.
The goddess floated above the sea, pink eyes open and filled with something that looked like starlight.
The rhythm of the waves did not stop.
Her clear voice mingled with the surf, soft and lilting like a song.
Rowe saw her fully.
He watched her sing in the sea.
And he watched her, at the same time, turn her gaze directly to him.
In those eyes, some unfamiliar emotion flickered.
As if to say:
Finally, I have found you.
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