Chapter 54: Damn It, Do Not Try to Take It From !
As the deity closest to the primordial among the living gods, Anu understood at a glance what the thing in Rowe’s hand truly was.
It was a relic from the very dawn of stellar formation, older than even the primordial gods. A deified embodint of the world creating authority of Ea, the planetary force that set the molten seas and gas swaddled surface of the primitive Earth into rotation, shattering chaos and stabilizing the world.
A genuine world splitting sword.
Anu’s expression changed violently.
Even if he knew the blade Rowe held could not draw out its full might, that it was impossible even with Gilgash, Enkidu, Ishtar Rin, Ereshkigal, and the countless people of the present world lending their strength.
Even one percent would be fatal.
Not rely because of raw output.
But because it was an Anti World Noble Phantasm. A power that destroyed planets, and more than that, an Anti World strike that tore at space itself.
A concept level counter, aid straight at natural gods.
In the end, the gods were only phenona born after the world had settled. They were tendrils of the planet.
If the roots were severed, how could the branches remain?
Had they still been enthroned in the high sky, they would not have feared this level of assault. But now they had descended into human form, stripped of the distance and superiority that once protected them.
It was a perfect, absolute special attack.
Yet no matter how their faces paled, the gods could not avoid what was coming.
The three cylindrical segnts of the Sword of Rupture were already spinning in opposite directions in Rowe’s grasp. A scarlet storm bled outward, swallowing heaven and earth like the surging magma of an infant world.
Rowe swung.
The blow struck the firmant.
It carved into the Heaven that had fallen into the present world.
It cut toward the gods themselves.
First the atmosphere trembled. Then the air turned into blades, roaring currents that shredded everything they touched. Where they passed, not only the sky but the space containing the sky was pulverized, split apart into deep and silent cracks.
A collapse without sound.
No earth shattering roar.
No world splitting boom.
The end of the gods was no different from the demonic beasts erased outside Uruk’s walls.
Countless streams of brilliance dyed the world in an instant, swirling like a newborn nebula.
They churned, then shattered.
Heaven broke completely beneath the Sword of Rupture.
The gods did not have ti to flee.
They did not even have ti to beg.
The storm surged through them, and in a blink they were gone.
When the crimson tide finally drew back, it left only a vast, shattered void hanging in the upper atmosphere, a wound in reality that would not close.
Heaven was no more.
The shadows of the gods had vanished without residue.
Silence swallowed the world.
No wind. No clouds. No voices.
Only the mory of that instant remained.
The sage wields a torrent that sweeps the world.
The gods perish in silence.
The great waters recede, the storm halts, civilization still stands.
The people pause as one.
Before the royal palace of Uruk, Rowe let his arm fall.
The Sword of Rupture, woven of crimson and gold, dissolved into drifting light and returned to him as naturally as breath. It had always been his own existence, after all.
Rowe exhaled, and his face was pale.
That single strike had drained every trace of Aether from his body. His strength was near empty.
He looked ahead.
Then down.
From the n and won and children packed into the city, to the soldiers on Uruk’s towering walls far away, every pair of eyes was fixed on him.
On the one who had gathered their will and unleashed the finishing blow.
Their gaze still burned with sparks that had not yet gone out.
At the sa ti, specks of light drifted down like falling snow, landing on soil, leaves, beasts, and people alike.
Firefly bright, scattered everywhere.
This was the Mystery of Heaven after the gods were expelled, clinging to the human world.
It no longer belonged to the divine.
It belonged to humans.
In the past, to wield Mystery, humans had to recite a god’s na and receive permission. Mages of the Age of Gods were ssengers first, practitioners second.
From now on, that chain was broken.
Of course, the change was not yet visible. Not in this mont.
But as ti moved on, soone would surely grasp this power.
The traits of humanity itself, like wisdom that had once been stolen by the gods, would bloom freely among the people.
This power belonged to them.
Rowe smiled.
The confrontation ended in humanity’s victory.
They had won.
Nearby, the Bull of Heaven lay collapsed beneath the fully opened Gate of Babylon. Its vast body had grown faint, its eyes hollow, as if all fury had been wrung dry from it.
The Underworld that had pinned it in place was gone, yet the beast could not rise.
On the Ark of Stars, Gilgash did not laugh.
He did not boast.
His expression was quiet, grave, as though a single night had forced him to grow into the shape of a king who had seen the end of gods.
“How beautiful…” Enkidu stood in a daze, replaying the scene, then smiled softly.
With a rush of air, the Chains of Heaven binding the Cedar Forest vanished.
“You are free, Humbaba,” Enkidu said.
She had Ishtar withdraw the Venus projection.
The cedar trees swayed, lush and green. From the deepest tangle, a figure erged, gave Enkidu one last long look, then dissolved into the forest’s breath and vanished.
Ishtar, floating overhead, was practically vibrating.
If the gods were truly shattered here, she would not only break free of her true body’s control and beco fully independent, she would also inherit the treasures of Heaven.
Yes, that second part was the most important.
“Rowe, that was amazing.” Deep in the Underworld, Ereshkigal relaxed her hands, her smile sincere and bright with relief.
Everyone was rejoicing.
The world ending disaster was gone. Uruk still stood. Humanity had crossed the abyss.
But for Rowe, what he truly wanted had only just arrived.
“What is that?” Enkidu’s senses caught it first. She snapped her head toward Uruk, then took off without hesitation, bare feet flashing as her white robe billowed.
“This King knew it. That fellow…” Gilgash drove the Ark of Stars forward in a streak of brilliance.
“Eh?” Ishtar froze, then shot after them with a sharp glare. “You better not forget what you promised . I did not co here for free!”
Ereshkigal, already withdrawn from the surface, did not yet understand what was happening.
Rowe did.
He remained where he stood and lifted his gaze.
In the void torn open overhead, sothing began to condense.
Pitch black. Bottomless.
It churned like tar, like primordial mud crawling out of a grave.
This was evil.
A curse ford from the resentnt of the gods at the mont their personalities died.
A last malice aid at Rowe.
Gods as planetary phenona did not die, but their selves did.
For them, that was death.
And death births hatred.
The curse pulsed with voices, layered and bitter.
“No… impossible. We are eternal gods…”
“Our rule cannot end here. Our long cherished wish…”
“Sage, Rowe…”
“We curse you!”
“We curse you to die an unnatural death. We curse your soul to carry our resentnt and be exiled beyond this world forever!”
Just like the death of Enkidu in the myth Rowe knew. A god’s curse for defying Heaven.
Only this ti, it was a billion tis heavier.
The accumulated hatred of an entire pantheon at the edge of annihilation.
If it touched him, there would be no gentle passage to the Underworld.
No clean return.
Rowe felt joy instead of fear.
He opened his arms.
This was his sin.
What he had done, he would bear.
Yes.
Then a voice exploded with laughter.
“AHAHAHAHA! Does that arrogant wild dog think he can shoulder this King’s world alone? Do not be ridiculous!”
“How dare you covet what belongs to this King?”
A dazzling streak tore past Rowe.
Gilgash, riding the Ark of Stars, arrived even faster than Enkidu.
He swept by, pivoted sharply in midair, and shot upward toward the curse, laughing like a blade in the wind.
Rowe blinked.
What?
Damn it, Gilgash.
That curse is mine, you greedy golden nace.
Co back.
Co back right now.
Give it back to !
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