Battle for Babylonia: And another continuation (261)

The astronomical phenomenon created by Ishtar broke through Ozymandias' mighty barrier, like how a tsunami might sweep away a sandcastle. It paid no attention to how skilled the boy at creating the sand sculpture was, or with what care he had fortified one sand tower after another in the path of the approaching waves.

It swept through it all just the same.

If Ishtar's unleashed full might had collided with the real Earth, not inside an imagined reality, not inside Ozymandias' manifested Noble Phantasm, but with the planet that people were accustomed to calling Earth; it would have cracked like the shell of a long-overripe nut. There would have been no ‘shifting of lithospheric plate movements’ or ‘catastrophic volcanic eruptions triggered by tectonic events’. Something much simpler would have happened – there would have been no Earth at all. 

It would have simply fallen apart as easily as a shortbread cookie crumbles in a child's hands. The mountains, the oceans, each and all monuments created by Human hands, all would have crumbled like nothing more than grains of sands, lost in the void of space.

However, the world recreated by Ozymandias absorbed the full force of Ishtar's strike, then dissipated it a moment later, its remnant crumbling into small parts and fragments lost in the air, melting into nothing.

Despite all of Ishtar's power, the trap of Ozymandias' Noble Phantasm lay in the fact that it was separated from the ‘real’ world. Therefore, the might of Ishtar's own Noble Phantasm simply could not overflow like excess water from a glass, since the ‘glass’ has no opening. Yes, the glass would break from the excess pressure, but then, that would be it, as Ozymandias could simply create another ‘glass’. Though, Ozymandias’ ‘glass’ was made of much sterner materials.

However, despite this power, Ozymandias' palace itself did not cease to exist.

Ishtar's might, might have erased the magical seals, the noble monuments, even the skillful frescoes, exposing the metal hidden beneath the stone, but Hittite steel that took upon itself the planetary might of Ishtar's Noble Phantasm, stood strong.

The silvery steel, usually polished, had turned black – in many places it had even looked melted and warped, in some, it was torn apart or turned into nothing…

However, it had fulfilled its main function with aplomb, it had protected the Servants from the might of Ishtar's Noble Phantasm, if only for once. As, even as strong as Ozymandias’ palace was, it was unlikely that even such protections could survive a second collision with Ishtar's full power.

But where Ozymandias protected the Servants with his Palace, Tiamat had taken the full blow, head on.

Tiamat’s monstrous form, towering above mountains and pressing into the earth deeper than any canyon with her steps, shuddered, before letting out a howl.

Now that Ozymandias' world no longer capable of dampening the meaning of her cry and was not capable of dispersing the inexpressible spirit embedded in the Primordial Mother's wordless song; anyone who heard Tiamat's drawn-out wail could have perceived the emotion she had put into her words… It would have been a catastrophe.

However, such a thing did not happen, because this time, Tiamat's howl had no meaning.

Tiamat's spreading cry expressed nothing within itself – except for pain.

The air itself began to disintegrate into nothing from the force of Tiamat's howl, the earth trembled from the pain, and Tiamat's figure, the great monster, could finally be seen.

A huge wound ran from her shoulder to her chest, splitting apart both scales, muscles, and inhuman bones through the black blood. They all were visible to the observer who saw Tiamat's first wound.

Not what ‘could be called a wound’ and not ‘proof of the possibility of wounding Tiamat’, no, this was Tiamat's first full-fledged wound, tearing her body apart. It could be seen that even Tiamat was not invulnerable to astronomical phenomena.

The wound on Tiamat's body was not too grotesque by Servant standards, relative to the efforts applied, in fact, it was simply laughable. However, if an ordinary Servant were to suffer such a wound, it would have been a mortal wound. Death would have been very much a possibility. 

Perhaps if it were a Servant possessing Battle Continuation, or some outstanding warrior with legends of their Endurance, perhaps a Berserker, then such a wound would not have been considered fatal at all. But for practically any other Servant, this bifurcating wound was, if not fatal, then it definitely meant their defeat. It would be impossible for them to continue battling, it is an injury that would force the opponent to immediately retreat.

But Tiamat was not ‘just’ a Servant; Tiamat was Tiamat.

Instantly, the split flesh rose upward and rushed toward each other, closing the wound, stopping the bleeding. Muscle fibers would start to reconnect with its torn pair, and the wound started to close. 

Sure, Tiamat would not remain unwounded after such an attack, but if she could heal the damage inflicted on her in a matter of minutes, did such an attack have any meaning at all?

"Gugalanna!" Ishtar's voice, having used her strongest attack, was weak, but her action certainly is not. Spending the last dregs of her power, even a part of her life and a part of her Divinity, she forcefully activated her second Noble Phantasm. It was an act of desperation, more of a gamble than anything, she would be more likely to die rather than successfully activating her second Noble Phantasm.

But her luck held, and a moment later the Bull of Heaven was summoned. 

Towering above the mountain peaks, the Bull of Heaven, Gugalanna, was a messenger of the heavens and all the gods of Sumer. A great creation made from pure divine might and authority of all gods, it was woven together from all sources of power, crammed into a single figure from the pure idea of ‘magic’ and ‘mystery’. It was not so much a living being, rather the material representation of the concept of ‘divine beast’.

Yes, Tiamat towers over it still, but that speaks more of Tiamat’s size than Gugalanna’s.

Long ago, when Enkidu had rejected his mission to fight Gilgamesh and had turned against the gods, the gods had sent its perfect monster, Gugalanna, down into the world to bring to submission its two rebellious pawns. The two links in a chain, one from the world of humans, the second from the divine world, which were meant to forever recreate the connection between the two, were to be punished.

In other words, the gods were more than confident that Gugalanna's power would be enough to destroy both Gilgamesh and Enkidu. A feat that is worthy of boasts to say the least.

In the end, the gods’ punishment would be belayed, Gilgamesh would live. Not that they had made an error in their calculations, and the two had managed to prevail against the Bull of Heaven. No, Gugalanna, the beast of all beasts, is stronger than the two greatest heroes in terms of pure capability and destructive potential. 

They simply could not imagine that their supposed emotionless puppet, Enkidu, would find within himself the desire to sacrifice himself for a human and for humanity, all in order to destroy the beast.

Even then, Enkidu had not won by pure force, or by a trial of combat, no, using their own self as a chain, Enkidu had managed to ‘unravel’ the mystery that encapsulated Gugalanna. It was a sacrilegious act, turning the Divine, the ‘Divine Beast’ into the mundane, and thus the gods severed Enkidu’s life. It was a total and complete act of destruction; something which no treasure in Gilgamesh’s infinite treasury could reverse. Not even if Gilgamesh would do the impossible and bow his head to the Goddess of the Underworld could he find his soul in Kur.

For this act, the gods had created an eternal and irreconcilable enmity with Gilgamesh. And thus the gods planted in the invincible king the seed of doubt and fear that was as strong as the king himself was fearless.

Gugalanna, the Bull of Heaven, became the cause of the birth of Gilgamesh's fear of his own mortality.

The monstrous creation, that seemed to prop up the heavens with its horns, turned its gaze to Tiamat.

Naturally, if the titanic monster existed in ‘reality’, the earth beneath its hooves would have broken, and just the simple act of raising its head would have sent winds strong enough to tear down mountains. A monstrous creation like Gugalanna could exist exclusively in the world of gods, in a world where magic and mystery ruled supreme, where humanity could only endlessly strive to obtain a heavenly might beyond their reach. 

Gugalanna could exist only in such a world, for in ‘rational’ reality his very presence was toxic, just as ‘modernity’ and ‘Humanity’ were toxic to the bull. Like two irreconcilable particles of matter and antimatter, only capable of mutual self-destruction.

However, Tiamat, having regained her true form, is beyond the idea of mere ‘objective reality’. The concepts of ‘physical laws’ and ‘immutable truths’ crumble under an unimaginable weight of the primordial mother's divine might. It was something that a beast like Gugalanna could feel more keenly than anyone else.

Raising its high horns and bellowing in an intimidation attempt, the heavenly bull charged forward at Tiamat's, whereas the Goddess froze in indecision. Lacking any combat experience against something like the Bull, she froze in contemplation, trying to determine the best action to take.

Should she respond to Gugalanna’s roar, should she instead focus on restoring her body, or should she move aside, to dodge the charging bull? It took a long moment for her to decide. 

Slowly, in comparison to her size, Tiamat's flesh continued to regenerate, her body was so unimaginably huge, and Ishtar's attack had delivered a blow that even for Tiamat, concentrating on her recovery, it would require some time to heal.

Therefore, Tiamat, for the first time in the battle, dodged an attack, rather than relying on her might, she chose caution instead. It was a lesson bitterly learned, but it is also a source of hope for the Servants. 

To see an invincible opponent retreating rather than facing an attack, wouldn't such a sight make their enemy gain confidence in their own strength?

The huge horn passed by Tiamat’s sides, seemingly by millimeters, though it was merely an optical illusion created by the incredible size of the two monsters, surely there were dozens of meters between one figure and another. But it was not a matter of interest to any observer, the attack had missed, and the bad news didn’t end there. 

Everyone could only watch as Tiamat raised her hand and plunged it deep into the flesh of the bull charging at her, which bellowed in pain but did not retreat. Instead, the Bull of Heaven tried its best to move its neck, to move its horn and gore the Mother of all Monsters on its horn. The two struggled immensely against each other, and here too something strange happened.

Tiamat’s Black Sea was still, unlike all others, Tiamat seemed reluctant to consume the Bull of Heaven.

Her black slime did not spread across the creature's flesh, it seemed that Tiamat rejected such an idea entirely, instead preferring to try to rip the Bull limb from limb, for the destruction of the enemy before her. Her children had finally become her ‘enemy’, and Tiamat had started to desire to destroy the enemy before her. She would no longer welcome them into her ‘embrace’.

The flesh within Tiamat, her muscles and organs beyond human classification, supported by primordial magic rather than laws of physical reality, shifted, visibly changing Tiamat's figure. As the primordial mother, she possessed the ability to change any vessel of life before her eyes, including her own. 

In front of everyone’s eyes, a flesh tendril struck sideways from Tiamat’s body.

The bellowing bull, roared in pain, before striking the earth with its hoof, then jerked to the side, sacrificing its own flesh that was torn by the claws still embedded in it, striving with all its might to reach its target. It was targeting not only the flesh, but Tiamat's core itself, the concentration of her life, mind, and power.

If Tiamat was the Mother of All Living Things and every form of life was created by her, then the natural question arose about what Tiamat was before she created the first living form on Earth. What was Tiamat’s ‘true’ form?

The answer to that question was that she was nothing more than a concentration of Mana and Life.

Tiamat's core, the infinite source of magic in her body, was Tiamat's main strength and also her main weakness. Without it, her body would be simply a mountain of flesh with no rational direction. Should anything damage her core, then Tiamat would suffer critical damage.

After all, what would happen if the primordial ‘thermonuclear reactor’ suddenly discovered a ‘leak’ within itself?

And Gugalanna’s horn was most definitely capable of piercing through all the layers of Tiamat’s flesh. Therefore, sensing the danger, Tiamat moved aside again, retracting her clawed hand from the advancing beast, then with a sharp movement threw herself backward. Each movement generated seismic waves that would surely have caused dozens of tsunamis, earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions if the world still obeyed physical constants rather than the changeable nature of ‘mystery’.

The Bull of Heaven however was relentless, no matter how far Tiamat would retreat, Gugalanna charged forward again. Even with his divine blood continuing to flow down the heavenly bull's body from its wounds, the fire in his eyes was unquenchable, as it charged time and time again, with Tiamat dodging each time.

Until, for a single pass, something changed; rather than leaping away like a matador, Tiamat planted her feet down, and then lowered her head. Not in a gesture of capitulation, as made obvious by the crown of monstrous horns starting to grow at incredible rates on top of her head. 

Tiamat was going to directly challenge the Bull head on, something that the Bull welcomed in open hands, charging ahead again.

It was a clash between titans, the moment the clash happened, the noise was like a mountain crumbling down, the force from the sound alone was alike to a nuclear explosion. Then the shockwave came, if there were any mountains in the Space of Ozymandias’ Reality Marble, they would have collapsed, entire continents would be split and destroyed. 

It was an event that merits the label of ‘catastrophe’; but the clash itself was no contest.

The heavenly bull's body shuddered, its flesh trembling plaintively before the noise of the crunching of bones and twang of muscle fibers being crushed resounded, thick divine ichor began to pour like rain from Gugalanna’s flesh.

Gugalanna withstood the blow, so great was his might, and Tiamat's strike was stopped, however it was no relief. A moment later, the hundreds of horns of Tiamat’s that had pierced the Bull’s flesh began curving, each striving to pierce and rip further into the Bull. As if the horns were pliable flesh, it bends and stretches forward, making its way through flesh and blood, piercing the heavenly bull with a hundred bone spikes, trapping the Bull like an iron maiden.

Still, Gugalanna, ignoring its wounds, jerked its head, managing to score Tiamat's body with its horn. All at once, a dozen bone spikes of her crown broke at once and Tiamat's flesh parted from the Bull’s horn. It was a small victory, a mere glancing wound on Tiamat.

And for that, Tiamat’s anger was palpable; all at once, the bone spikes redoubled their digging into Gugalanna’s flesh. 

Gugalanna let out a blood-curdling scream, its pain palpable, the drawn-out howl of a dying beast. It was a long-drawn-out moment, one that would break the heart of animal lovers, incapable of seeing an animal in pain. Even the vitality of the Bull of Heaven was not infinite, and so after bellowing its death cry, the Bull fell to the ground, lifeless, its flesh a pockmark of wounds and holes.

Disappearing into motes of mana, should its death had happened in the ‘real’ world, the site would have become a great magical monument, jealously guarded by dozens of generations of outstanding masters of the mystic arts.

However, looking at such a grisly scene, Ozymandias only smirked, "To fall for the same trick twice? What luck that the Primordial Mother truly has no experience in battles."

Quetzalcoatl, Ushiwakamaru, and Jaguar together had managed to hold Tiamat in one place for the several seconds Ishtar needed to prepare her Noble Phantasm; Gugalanna had accomplished a similar feat.

Ozymandias' great palace, Ramesseum Tentyris, had not survived Ishtar's strike at its full power unscathed, but likewise it had not been completely destroyed. The skillful frescoes and ornate monoliths were destroyed by Ishtar's strike, while the Mirror of the Soul itself, Ozymandias' imaginary world, had not collapsed from the strain, releasing Tiamat back to the real world. 

However, the palace complex itself, Ozymandias himself, was still alive. And his Noble Phantasm had not yet exhausted all its might.

A moment later, the remains of Ozymandias' incredible palace flowed like molten wax, changing its form, before gathering into a figure that was so familiar to Ozymandias himself; a huge pyramid, ready to bring down its megalithic weight on the mother of all living things.

Under any other circumstances, if Ozymandias' Ramesseum Tentyris still possessed its full power, Ozymandias would have preferred to strike from two sides simultaneously. The sharpest edges from above and below should have simply divided the target into two parts and ground it, like between two millstones.

However, half of this combat power had already been destroyed by the defense against the might of Ishtar’s Noble Phantasm, while Tiamat herself stood too firmly and too high for the ‘weight of human ambitions’ to crush her completely.

But even so, the huge megalith, appearing above a Tiamat that was too busy savoring her first victory, slammed down with the weight of a mountain, briefly pinning her to the ground. The restraint wouldn’t last long, a few moments at best, but it was enough.

"Kur Kigal Irkalla!" The scream, carried by the wind, did not come from the Servants' mouths, nor from the heavens indicating a divine intervention, nor did it come from anywhere visible at all, instead the voice that sounded so similar to Ishtar’s, had come from under her feet. 

The earth cracked, then opened like a jaw beneath Tiamat's feet, and, pressed by the weight of Ramesseum Tentyris, Tiamat could not move when a hundred spears pierced from underground, impaling her body on sharp bronze spikes. Then the earth beneath and around Tiamat opened further, swallowing her whole.

Unlike Ishtar's all-crushing might, embodied in her Noble Phantasm, Ereshkigal possessed a much lesser ability to inflict direct damage. Of course, she was not defenseless, but where Ishtar embodied ‘the unstoppable wrath of the heavens’, Ereshkigal was the goddess of the underworld, whose mercy and wrath people saw much less frequently and much less clearly than Ishtar's ever mercurial moods.

Therefore, although her ‘punishment from the goddess of the underworld to the world on Earth’, while impressive in its own way, was quite insignificant compared to Ishtar's might, still capable of breaking the Earth with careless use.

However, where the ‘wrath of the heavens’ while terrifying was passing, the punishment of the ‘underworld’ was much more dangerous because it had no habit of ever ending. It was not for nothing that the underworld was the final refuge of all souls.

Therefore, Ereshkigal's Noble Phantasm, laughable compared to Tiamat's power, did not pursue the desire to destroy her enemy with one blow, because this was not the main danger of Ereshkigal's Noble Phantasm.

Instead, her Noble Phantasm destroyed the earth, or, to be more precise, the ‘boundary’ that separates the underworld from the world above ground.

Tiamat fell down countless fathoms a moment later, as the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead was so surprisingly thin in the times of the Age of Gods. And with Tiamat causing a regression that had returned the world around her not just to the Age of Gods - but to the primordial times, an Age before all the Gods, Mystery was at its maximum.

And at that time, the division between the world of humans and the world of the dead did not exist at all.

Ainz's ‘Deicide’ had deprived Tiamat of her divine essence, so, for the dead that is the antithesis to life, with Tiamat being the primordial life, the ‘source of all life’. That is why, a moment later, Tiamat found herself embraced by the world of the dead, a place where she is the juiciest of prey....

For nothing living existed in the world of the dead.

Furthermore, being her place of power, Ereshkigal was stronger than Ishtar.

The realization that she had fallen into a trap made Tiamat snap her head upwards, destroying the Ramesseum Tentyris trying to pin her in place with the gesture. After which she instantly focused her full strength to heal her body, to expel the veil of mortality so unnatural to her being, inflicted on her by the world of the dead. All she had to do was to heal her flesh, her shell, and her ‘vulnerability’ would be gone.

But, of course, Ereshkigal was prepared for such a thing.

"Nammu Abzu Gugalanna!" Ereshkigal's second Noble Phantasm, her spear, instantly formed in the goddess’ hands. A weapon so similar to her twin sister’s, now, once again, aimed at Tiamat.

According to many legends, the Sun, after moving across the sky every day from sunrise to its sunset, then would descend into the abyss and the underworld every night, making its way through it before returning to the upper world with the dawn. Thus, for every night it was Ereshkigal, the goddess of the underworld, who remained the one who kept the Sun in her hands.

Her spear was exactly this, a fragment of the Sun in Ereshkigal's hands, which remains with her every night. Compared to the might and destructiveness of Ishtar's, the Mistress of Heaven, Noble Phantasm, its destructive potential was not so great.

But, it was still more than enough to make Tiamat forget about her attempt to repel the world of the dead, trying to bind her nature, and force her to be distracted. She still remembered the wound that the all-burning light of the Sun had given her.

Thus, rather than further trying to heal herself, Tiamat instead moved her whole body to dodge.

The white-hot fire passed near Tiamat by, missing her, and instead instantly scorching the World of the Dead. But, the eternally dead desert could not become more dead or more desolate, no matter how much Ereshkigal used her powers. And therefore, in this world, Ereshkigal had no need to restrain herself at all or had to resort to Ozymandias' Noble Phantasm to prevent her from destroying the Earth with her power.

The Human World, or what remains of it at least, is under no threat at all. And if there was no need to restrain oneself lest they destroy the world, it meant that the limitations of the Counter Force did not act against those who use their powers against Humanity.

Not that the other Mother of Monsters cared for such a thing, but it was the thoughts that counted.

"Ragnarok ~ The Endless Twilight of the Gods." Angrboda's voice reached Tiamat, forcing her to find her rival for the title of ‘mother of monsters’ with her gaze, even as she was under the assault of Ereshkigal.

Angrboda's Noble Phantasm was not limited at all, not even by the Counter Force; if the primordial force tried, the two would be forced into an eternal tug of war. Not that the Counter Force would try, as doing might be taken as provocation by Angrboda and thus resulting in the apocalypse of the divine as well as of Humanity.

A new Beast might be formed from such an ordeal, not something that the Counter Force would want in any form whatsoever. 

However, her Noble Phantasm still needs to be limited, as allowing her the free use of it was too dangerous and too unpredictable.

And thus, in a sense, an agreement has been made between Alaya and Angrboda; Angrboda promised not to use her Noble Phantasm if it would bring unmitigated damage to Humanity, while on their part, the Counter Force would not unduly restrict her usage of it. It was a paper thin agreement, after all, as a being that cares not one whit about Humanity, what would stop Angrboda using her Noble Phantasm willy-nilly, using the nebulous definition of what ‘unmitigated damage’ could be?

A weak agreement that was guaranteed solely, like many similar agreements, by Ainz's existence. 

The Counter Force at least saw in him the possibility of stopping Angrboda in case she violated such an agreement and became a danger to the entire world. Angrboda, on the other hand, would not wish to use such powers, fearing that their use would not be approved by Ainz himself.

However, at the current moment, being in the world of the dead, Angrboda did not need to worry about collateral damage, so the Counter Forces' side could be calm. And Ainz, in turn, was fighting Tiamat, which meant Angrboda possessed the right and blessing to use her full powers.

Therefore, a moment later, Angrboda's body, full of power, malice, and claws, began to distort, as if her skin could no longer contain her muscle, breaking itself and swelling like sea foam rising upward, like a growing cocoon of flesh.

After all, no one said that the ‘mother of monsters’ gave birth to the monsters the same way humans bore their own children.

Tiamat, however, was not going to wait for the activation of Angrboda's Noble Phantasm. Even deprived of her divine essence and limited in her abilities as the ‘source of all life’ in the world of the dead, Tiamat still remained herself. And therefore, having already fallen for her opponents' tricks twice, did not plan to give them a third chance.

Angrboda struck, a lump of flesh, like a huge bloody abscess struck forth, expanding rapidly as it went, growing until it became the size of Tiamat's claw, then a finger, and then a palm, and Angrboda clearly did not plan to stop there. Tiamat had to stop it before it reached the necessary size, Tiamat did not plan to give the enemy this time. 

Focusing on attacking now, Tiamat failed to dodge the spear of pure sunlight, its heat scouring her flesh, but it was a small cost in exchange for the chance to stop Angrboda. Whatever Angrboda's Noble Phantasm was, Tiamat would not allow a third such attack against herself.

She was about to interrupt Angrboda’s charge-up, before a golden chain wrapped around Tiamat's body.

The chain seemed to emerge from nowhere; when trying to trace the movement of the golden chain links, one's gaze would always inexorably slide past it. It was if the world itself was blurring one’s sight, to prevent anyone from seeing the source of the attack.

It was a familiar sight, a golden chain wrapping around Tiamat's body, stopping her movement for just a second; Enkidu. And yet, the chains that Enkidu had ‘gifted’ Gilgamesh were already destroyed, forever disappearing from Gilgamesh’s Treasury, a grave sacrifice that the King of Heroes had made. Furthermore, Tiamat has regained her true form, her regression to being the divine source of all life once again made Tiamat invulnerable to even the Heavenly Chains. Even if Ainz were to help, even with Tiamat is in the world of the dead, it would not help Gilgamesh's golden chain stop Tiamat now.

But Gilgamesh named his golden chain, Enkidu, after his dearest and only friend, the golden chain of heaven, Enkidu. And Enkidu's body had been absorbed by Tiamat long ago in their first clash, but not his mind.

And thus the sleeping Enkidu chose this moment to strike.

Hundreds of golden chains pierced Tiamat's body, each of them crumbling a moment later as even with the surprise attack Tiamat was still Tiamat, but, in place of each came ten more, trying to bind Tiamat into a single cocoon. Or rather, from the way it looked to outside observers, into a tree growing through Tiamat's flesh.

Enkidu, the golden chain of the Gods, did not desire Tiamat's victory. Kingu, Tiamat's loyal son, did not desire her death; but now, they were forced to act together.

"I am the chain that binds humans and gods, the spear that pierces this world." A voice, split into two but now merged together for one Noble Phantasm, made Gilgamesh smile for the first time in many years. Not the swaggering smile of the Tyrant, not even one of the Wise Sage’s, but the one that only one person in all his life had been allowed to see. 

"Enuma Elish."