After devastating the agriculture, the Bull of Heaven finally charged toward the city.
It was indeed troubleso—even his full-powered punch, strong enough to breach city walls, only managed to hurt it.
Using weapons didn't help much either. At best, they could barely scratch its thick hide before it healed instantly.
And the weapons of this era were of such poor quality that they shattered after a single use under his strength.
But since he could already inflict this much damage on the Bull of Heaven, his preparations must be sufficient to kill this drought-bringing beast.
As for his earlier claim about being able to punch through thick walls?
That would require firepower equivalent to a modern tank's cannon. Could a human really achieve that?
Under normal circumstances, it was impossible.
But this was another benefit granted by his role-playing system—the higher his completion rate, the more his physical abilities were enhanced.
"Enhancent" might not even be the right word. It was more like unlocking deeper levels of his body's latent potential.
"Co on, you dumb ox!"
Now seated on the throne inside the temple tower, he taunted the enraged Bull of Heaven as it chased after him.
"Rooooar—!"
Its nostrils flared with hot breath, its bull-like forelegs scraping against the floor—clearly gathering montum for a charge.
The next second, accompanied by the heavy, dull sound of shattering stone, the Bull of Heaven charged toward him with a force that seed capable of shaking mountains.
Every stomp sent radial cracks spiderwebbing across the stone floor.
In the blink of an eye, the distance between them halved.
At that very mont, the corner of his lips curled up as he pressed down on an armrest of the throne like a hidden chanism.
Instantly, the floor beneath the Bull of Heaven's hooves collapsed, sending the beast plumting into the depths of the pyramid-like temple.
Amidst the furious roars of the falling beast, a terrifying energy rapidly swelled within the temple.
A closer look into the collapsed pit would reveal a violent surge of light and flas erupting from below, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
"BOOM—!"
A deafening blast, louder than thunder, reverberated across all of Uruk.
Countless people staggered as if struck by a club, their heads ringing before they gaped in shock at the massive temple—the king's palace—now engulfed in a cataclysmic explosion.
A towering pillar of flas rose, dyeing the entire city red.
Debris rained down in all directions, but thanks to the king's earlier strange orders, the surrounding area had been evacuated, resulting in almost no casualties.
So… what was that?
The bewildered citizens of Uruk, mistaking it for divine retribution, montarily panicked.
"S-Sister B-Brunhilde! Wh-what just happened?!"
Göll, her soul nearly fleeing her body from the shock, barely managed to steady herself before blurting out in alarm.
She was no longer inside the temple but had been moved to the city walls, staring dumbfounded at the explosion.
"A dust explosion. Seems you didn't study well."
"Dust explosion?"
The term sounded vaguely familiar, but Göll had never bothered to learn the specifics.
"To think he actually used it…"
Brunhilde couldn't help but voice her admiration.
The open door at the very bottom had actually been for ventilation, ensuring airflow inside.
And it wasn't the only one—there were multiple other vents, allowing sufficient air circulation in what was otherwise a sealed space.
Then, finely ground wheat flour was scattered throughout the interior. Finally, when the Bull of Heaven was lured in, the vents were systematically closed.
As the beast fell, its imnse body heat ignited the airborne dust.
The rapid combustion caused a sudden spike in temperature and pressure—resulting in this earth-shattering explosion.
As the echoes of the blast faded, a figure gradually erged from the billowing smoke—King Gilgash, visibly wounded by the devastation.
He must have prepared for the impact; otherwise, even he would have been obliterated.
Suddenly, sothing shifted in the rubble behind him.
With a heave of shattered stone, a grotesquely mangled monster erged, its body riddled with tal shards.
It glared at King Gilgash with crimson eyes, then charged toward him unnaturally, intending to pierce his body with its remaining unbroken horn.
Faced with this situation, King Gilgash didn't even glance back, nor did he seem inclined to dodge.
Was he too severely injured to move?
Not at all—it was because he could hear from the Bull of Heaven's footsteps that it was in its death throes.
The closer it got to him, the slower its speed beca, its wide-open eyes gradually closing.
When it reached a ter behind him, it collapsed completely.
At this mont, the people of Uruk, who had been worried for him, froze briefly before erupting into thunderous cheers.
This was the power of their king!
"Prepare a great cauldron for ," the king declared, and the crowd roared in response.
Thus, the Bull of Heaven was cooked for ten days and ten nights.
On this day, a god who sensed sothing amiss descended.
The starry night sky transford into a starless void.
Dark clouds rolled in, tornadoes touched down upon the earth, and thunder roared as if heralding the apocalypse.
"Anu—the Sky God of the Babylonian pantheon!" Valkyrie Brunhilde murmured, gazing at the raging heavens.
"Lord Anu, the Sky God... That's a chief deity! Should we hide?" Göll shrank nervously behind her sister. Ordinary gods might not notice them, but a chief deity was another matter.
"No need!"
Her gaze shifted to the figure seated upon the throne, who showed not a trace of fear.
He smirked—a smile that sent a chill down Brunhilde's spine.
His ruby-like eyes, glowing like a baleful star illuminating the night, opened wide, their gaze carrying a palpable, weighty killing intent.
He intended to slay a god!!!
At this mont, Brunhilde felt both exhilaration and tension.
She would witness a human killing a chief deity with her own eyes!
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