Chapter 779: The Final Battle of the Age of Gods Begins
Every living being in the land of Mesopotamia could look up and see the towering pillar of fire that blotted out the sky.
It was the final echo of the Sun Goddess.
When Anna awoke amidst violent tremors, she found herself once again cradled in Sakatsuki's arms. Even the fluttering black robes could not obscure the fiery mushroom cloud expanding behind them—so vivid, so intense, that it inevitably reminded her of someone's radiant smile.
"Where's Quetzalcoatl?"
"She sacrificed herself." Sakatsuki's voice was muffled against his chest. "After breaking through the Bounded Field, she exhausted everything to wound Tiamat, buying us a moment to breathe."
"I see…" Anna's expression visibly dimmed. She curled up slightly, instinctively pressing closer to the young man, as if seeking warmth.
Truthfully, there wasn't much sorrow. Anna knew death was not the end—heroes recorded in the Throne of Heroes would return as long as the conditions were met.
It was just a faint sense of loneliness.
Recalling the former Three Goddess Alliance, though they had all despised one another, mocking each other's way of life in their hearts, there was no denying one fact: they were the last three goddesses remaining in this Singularity.
They were kin.
But now, Gorgon had willingly embraced death, leaving behind only a half-formed version of herself. The goddess Ereshkigal still seemed to watch over the underworld, yet her heart was no longer with the alliance. And the mightiest of them all, the Sun Goddess Quetzalcoatl, had fallen first…
"Look on the bright side. Even though Quetzalcoatl is gone, we still shattered Mother's Bounded Field, didn't we?"
Sakatsuki's voice was as lighthearted as ever, even though he knew better than anyone that breaking Tiamat's Bounded Field didn't mean relief—it only escalated the already desperate war. Without the Bounded Field's restraint, the Sea of Chaos would spread, engulfing all of Mesopotamia!
It was merely waking a slumbering dragon—what was there for mere ants to celebrate?
The dragon's unconscious breath might have destroyed ant colonies while it slept, but now that it was awake, a single careless step could obliterate their entire civilization.
"Better than being boiled alive like frogs. While the sacrifices aren't yet unbearable, while everyone still has the courage and will to fight—we still have a chance to win."
Sakatsuki soared into the sky with Anna in his arms. He clenched his fist and punched forward, the gale-force winds scattering the lingering flames in the clouds, revealing an unobstructed view ahead.
"Look." He pointed imperiously at the beast below. "This is the final gift that goddess left us."
Anna followed his gaze—and her pupils shrank in shock.
A scorched wound!
A mark left by the touch of the blazing sun!
Tiamat, in her ancient draconic form, roared in agony. One of her two towering horns had been shattered, the outermost scales melted away under the Noble Phantasm's assault, dissolving into eerie liquid. Blood evaporated before it could even seep out, leaving behind vast, grotesque scars.
Tiamat's massive draconic form trembled within the black mud, splashing great waves of the viscous liquid as she attempted to envelop her wound. Yet with a flash of firelight, even the primordial mud was scorched away, its dignity refusing to allow any impurity to touch it. Tiamat writhed in agony, thrashing violently. When she raised her body, a cold glint illuminated Anna's pupils, allowing her to glimpse something hidden beneath Tiamat's form.
"Sak—Sakatsuki!"
"Ah, I see it too." A brief look of astonishment flashed across Sakatsuki's face before he composed himself. After a moment of deep thought, he nodded as if realizing something, then decisively turned and fled with Anna in his arms.
"As long as the scar remains, Tiamat won't have the capacity to mass-produce Lahmu. That's one of the few pieces of good news we have," Sakatsuki said, as if explaining to Anna or perhaps just thinking aloud. "As for those things restraining Tiamat... Well, in any case, our reconnaissance mission ends here. Let's return to assess the damage to Uruk and report everything we've seen to the King."
Pausing briefly, the young man suddenly revealed an expectant smile. "Next comes the truly heated tug-of-war."
———
Upon returning to Uruk, the horde of Lahmu, unable to breach the defenses after prolonged assaults, abruptly retreated in disarray. As Sakatsuki and Anna entered the palace, a messenger missing an arm was just reporting to Gilgamesh on his throne about the emergence of the black mud tide.
"The black mud has swallowed Girsu and Umma! It's now flowing toward Uruk like a raging black flame! Uruk's current walls won't hold against it!"
"Estimated time until it reaches Uruk—"
"Enough!" A golden gauntlet-clad hand rose, cutting off the messenger. Gilgamesh stood, his voice steady yet impassioned:
"Raise anchor!"
"—OOHH!!!"
After a brief moment of stunned silence, the soldiers erupted into deafening cheers. This phrase held meaning only they truly understood—a word forged through their own sweat and toil, hammered into existence with nails and countless hours of labor.
A feat even heroes couldn't achieve!
And now, Uruk's King voiced their declaration:
"Unleash the Teeth of Nabû-šuma-ukîn!"
The tolling of bells resounded across the plains as razor-sharp structures erupted from the ground like fangs, interlocking in pairs with thunderous crashes. When the distant black tide made contact—it recoiled as if repelled by some colossal beast!
Though fragments broke away, dissolving into the mud, there was no denying it—the lethal black tide had been checked!
"Good. We've finally reached this point." Gilgamesh gazed toward the smoke-rising frontline, advancing step by step. "For half a year, this king has endured humiliation."
Too much effort. Too much sacrifice.
Ever since his Clairvoyance revealed future destruction, he'd struggled relentlessly—chasing desperately, grasping at straws—all to seize that fleeting dawn before annihilation.
Without hesitation, he transformed himself into a magi (Caster), sustaining the vast city with divine blood irrigated by his own life force. He even endured the reluctance in his heart to open his treasured Gate of Babylon, and descended into the underworld three times in a frenzy of labor—all for this moment, so that he would not stand alone upon the desolate ruins!
And now, at last, he could proudly raise his head and declare: he had done it!
"Primordial Mother, Tiamat, the Womb of All Beasts! What follows is a mythic battle even this king cannot foresee!"
Beneath the final rays of the setting sun, Gilgamesh spread his arms wide. "Will you devour this world, or will humanity prove itself worthy of carving out its own future? The time has come for an answer."
The King's proclamation echoed sharply through the palace halls.
"Come! Let us wage the final battle of the Age of Gods!!!"