"Kingu?"
"You just said his na is Kingu? The legendary son of Tiamat?! The ancestor of mankind?!"
In the dim light of early morning, sowhere in the Reed Fields, a slightly dry patch of ground trembled as the ghost cage shook violently. Shamhat, the sacred prostitute, whispered in disbelief.
"Yes. More precisely, it's Enkidu's body serving as the vessel, with Kingu's soul in control."
Samael, seated alone atop the corpse of a Soul-Eater Beast, glanced at the wounds on his body slowly healing, then replied with a sigh.
Floating out of the ghost cage, Shamhat's face twisted with mockery and sorrow.
"Heh. Awakening the soul fragnts of humanity's first ancestor... stuffing that resentnt into Enkidu's body."
"The Chains of Heaven, which once brought peace and prosperity to Uruk, have beco demons slaughtering the Surian city-states."
"How ironic…"
The sacred prostitute who once guided Enkidu to awaken his humanity pressed her lips together tightly.
"Perhaps, as a god who was wronged and butchered, Kingu does have the right to seek revenge on this land."
"But he shouldn't be doing all this in that child's body!"
"Enkidu is the hero who saved Uruk. He shouldn't be burdened with such disgrace…"
Samael picked a reed leaf, wiped off the juice from the berries in his hand, and shook his head as he ate, a strange glint flashing in his eyes.
"That's not entirely accurate…"
"The real Kingu—the son of Tiamat—no longer exists. Even if you gathered fragnts of his soul, they wouldn't be enough to reconstruct a full consciousness."
"In other words, while he may be the one piloting the body, he's likely influenced by the remnants of Enkidu's mories, supplented by scattered soul shards…"
Shamhat's eyebrows shot up. She gave the ancient serpent beside her a sharp look.
"Don't insult him!"
"Enkidu was a good child. He'd never harm humans so easily!"
Samael sighed, rubbing his forehead with an exasperated look.
"Teacher, I've said it already—Kingu is the one in control."
"The soul fragnts of Enkidu lingering in that shell are likely little more than unconscious instincts. Even if he wanted to stop it, there's no real resistance left. He's not the one to bla."
"Of course, how the surviving Surians will react when he appears with that face... I wouldn't know."
"Also, I think you've missed the real point!"
The ancient serpent flicked the fruit pit into the reeds and narrowed his deep-set eyes.
"Souls, mories, emotions… even the gods struggle to grasp them."
"Take Ishtar's descent, for instance—seventy percent divinity, thirty percent humanity. The host's consciousness even altered Ereshkigal's originally gloomier nature."
"So yes, Kingu can currently control Enkidu. But in the future... who influences whom? Who can say?"
Could it be—?!
Shamhat's eyes lit up, staring intently at her prized student.
Samael leaned back and stretched, then turned with a faint, comforting smile, murmuring softly,
"Kingu's hatred was ant for the gods. He may not feel such deep malice toward humanity."
"Conquering cities and laying waste to civilizations... maybe it's just his way of reclaiming the divine essence once taken from his bloodline."
"A grudge not aid at its true target is ultimately too hollow. How could it compare to the unwavering belief in protecting humanity to the very end?"
"The more he experiences, the more harm he causes this land... the more likely it is to awaken the instinctive resistance buried in that body's lingering consciousness."
The ancient serpent raised his head to the red light breaking across the horizon, his vertical pupils gleaming with anticipation.
"One is the ancestor of mankind, filled with hatred. The other, a guardian hero born for humanity."
"Kingu's appearance... might just be an opportunity for Enkidu."
"Will Kingu be consud by his thirst for revenge and spiral into madness, or will Enkidu awaken his instincts and, with what little humanity and kindness remains, take back control of his body?"
"No one knows yet…"
According to the original history, Kingu was always affected by resurfacing mories in the midst of his slaughter. In the end, he fully awakened his humanity and stood in opposition to the goddess Tiamat.
This ti, let that kindness truly dissolve the hatred. Let it spare sopotamia from more regret and scars.
"It will work!"
"That child could defy the will of the gods—how could a re grudge taint such pure goodness?!"
Shamhat clasped her hands tightly to her chest, pacing as she murmured with excitent, her face glowing with a rare radiance.
"Teacher, I'm just saying it's a possibility. Don't get carried away."
"For now, Kingu is still our enemy. Any carelessness could be fatal!"
The ancient serpent couldn't help but douse her enthusiasm, feeling a pang of bitterness.
They were all students, but the difference in treatnt was ridiculous.
Hmm... Tiamom is still the best.
Grumbling inwardly, Samael sent a faint resonance through the ntal thread in his mind.
"Mother Goddess, he's just a tool being used. That hatred doesn't need to be taken out on innocent humans."
"Don't you also want to set him free from this suffering?"
Clang—
A faint, inaudible resonance traveled through the anchored line, spreading ripples across Samael's mindscape.
He nodded slightly, his gaze toward the red sun in the distance taking on a rare gravity.
Good.
Let be the one to end this grudge. Let destiny, which reigns over the world, cease to play only tragic songs.
He gently ran his hand over the clay tablet engraved with the Blood Temple's ssages, heart stirring.
One, a false Mother Goddess with a real god's son.
The other, the true Mother Goddess with a false son of god.
One, drowned in hatred, launches revenge against the world.
The other, true to his heart, is willing to give them both another chance.
Two pairs of mother and son—real and fake—drifting further apart on opposite paths.
Destiny, is it? Let try cheating it for once.
The ancient serpent raised his hand to the red sun, slowly clenched his fist, catching the light in his palm, and a mischievous smile curved his lips.
Soone's coming.
Shamhat sensed the approaching presence and quickly slipped back into the ghost cage, not forgetting to warn Samael.
He casually lowered his arm, waited a beat, then turned to the distance. Stretching a bit, he stood to greet the newcor.
Just then, Ana, the purple-haired girl carrying a bundle of dried reeds, suddenly felt her load lighten. Her vision cleared—and in front of her was the companion who'd unexpectedly joined them on the outskirts of Kutha, smiling faintly with kindness.
"Th-thank you…"
Though she always seed aloof on the surface, Ana was shy and gentle at heart.
"What are you saying? You saved twice. I still don't know how to repay you…"
Samael's slightly teasing tone eased the distance between them. He beckoned Ana over to sit and rest on the open ground, handing her so berries he'd foraged nearby to quench her thirst.
The sweet and tart flavor, along with the juicy burst, made Ana—at first hesitant—squint her eyes in delight after a few bites, instinctively speeding up as she chewed.
Hearing the crisp crunching, Samael smiled and passed the rest to her.
Among their group, no one knew the Surian era better than Shamhat, the sacred prostitute sealed in the ghost cage.
Identifying berries and telling poisonous from safe? Child's play for her.
"By the way, where's rlin?"
Seeing no sign of the great sage, Samael asked with so curiosity.
"He's fishing in the swamp. Said he wanted to reward us for last night's efforts and make sothing good using local ingredients…"
Ana replied casually while nibbling on her berries.
"Fishing in the swamp? With what rod?"
"He's using his staff. Fishing line, hook—those are nothing for soone good at crafting tools."
"Ugh… I don't even know what to say…"
Samael glanced toward the swaying reeds, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"That guy really is just slacking off! What kind of Magus slacks off this hard?"
"Achoo!"
At that mont, the great sage fishing by the swamp suddenly sneezed hard, nose tickling for no reason.
Weird. Could it be that a beautiful lady is thinking about ?
Ahh... being so popular is such a pain.
The Incubus rubbed his nose, then stroked his chin and muttered, slightly narcissistic.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / PinkSnake
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