"We've begun losing contact with the southern outposts."
"Based on the final intel from each outpost, it seems they were attacked by unknown lifeforms."
"Their strength?"
"Unclear, but their numbers are massive."
"Hmph, could they possibly outnumber the demonic beasts?"
"Each report was brief and fragmentary, but piecing them all together, we're certain these enemies pose no less a threat than the beasts. Considering they appeared from the south…"
"…Then what do we do? The King never built a southern wall!"
"It's worse. The only troops left in the city are basic guardsmen—barely enough to withstand even a single wave of beasts."
"What about the King's personal forces?"
"It seems the King anticipated this situation and recalled one squad before she left…"
"Can't we deploy them?"
"You think we can order around those people? Even if we could, what use would a mere hundred soldiers be?"
"But the south is vital for logistics—if it falls…"
"Rather than worrying about the south, think about how to protect Uruk itself! Judging by the sequence of outpost losses, the enemy's marching straight towards us!"
"At such a crucial time, why would the King…"
Inside Uruk's pyramid temple, several priests nervously discussed their predicament.
Though they spoke calmly and rationally—no shouting or slamming tables—their anxiety was clear from their tense expressions.
Uruk's defenses were always concentrated in the north, so a sudden, unknown enemy army appearing from the south had instantly plunged them into crisis.
These priests usually lacked presence, but as Uruk's ruling class, their sense of responsibility was high. Yet responsibility didn't equal competence. Under Uruk's centralized authority, these men typically only discussed "how" to carry out orders—not "what" those orders should be. Asking them to come up with a plan from scratch was like requesting a miracle.
Especially since they held almost no useful cards.
"Please calm yourselves. This is unexpected, but it's not completely outside the King's control."
Sitting among the priests, Siduri spoke softly, furrowing her brow.
"Lady Siduri?"
The priests looked at Siduri in confusion.
In their usual meetings, they debated heatedly while Siduri rarely spoke, at most conveying Ophis's rare intentions—though such intentions seldom existed.
Yet now, the High Priestess, who usually did the most work yet spoke the least, had spoken up.
"King Ophis anticipated something like this. She gave me clear instructions: if an uncontrollable anomaly arose from the south, we must first gather the civilians under the guards' protection and evacuate them to the northern wall. According to King Ophis, trouble in the south would mean the north was already secure."
Siduri offered a bitter smile.
"But clearly, that's not feasible at the moment."
The priests fell into a thoughtful silence.
King Ophis had predicted disaster—but evidently hadn't foreseen its exact nature or speed.
Given the rate at which contact with outposts was lost, the enemy would reach Uruk within the hour. Siduri had already gathered Uruk's citizens in preparation, but it was obviously too late to evacuate now.
However, Ophis had foreseen this possibility too.
"So, following the King's orders, we'll suspend the first step. I'll proceed immediately to the second stage of her plan. As for yourselves, King Ophis commanded you to accompany the people and temporarily manage them."
...
After the meeting dispersed, Siduri gave a soft sigh.
She hadn't told them explicitly, but she knew: the disaster unfolding was the "beginning of the end" that Ophis had warned about half a year ago.
Yet, even now, the King had not simply waited for doom.
Instead, Ophis had reversed the roles of the northern wall and Uruk itself, turning the city into the new southern defensive line.
Siduri understood clearly this arrangement wasn't sustainable. The northern wall lacked sufficient logistical support, and the forces defending this new frontline were far too thin…
Aside from the city guards protecting civilians, only Ophis's elite hundred warriors remained.
Of course, Ophis had never expected those hundred alone could withstand the coming calamity.
Everything now rested on Siduri herself.
In the great hall where Ophis usually idled away her time, a staff empowered by Uruk's Holy Grail floated silently upright at the room's center.
Walking quietly to the staff, Siduri's expression wavered slightly.
Ophis hadn't hidden anything from her; Siduri clearly understood the burden she would soon bear.
For most people, perhaps, this might seem like the highest possible reward. Yet Siduri's wisdom and position left no room for such naive optimism.
Still…
Drawing a deep breath, Siduri grasped the staff's handle firmly.
For Uruk, for her people, and especially for the King who had silently fought for them all this time—she had no other choice.
A violet pillar of light burst forth.
The beam ignored all barriers of the temple, causing no destruction as it pierced straight into the heavens.
From within the pillar, a tiny yet incredibly pure strand of mana separated itself, dancing gracefully like a small serpent before sinking into Siduri's body.
"Hah…"
As the energy entered, Siduri felt it penetrate directly into her heart. In the next instant, her nerves and blood vessels felt as if they were boiling, the excruciating pain drawing a suppressed groan from her lips.
Her heart felt as though engulfed in flames—indeed, it truly was being burned away.
Aggressively invasive mana gathered there, completely incinerating Siduri's heart before reforming itself into the shape of an Ouroboros.
Simultaneously, mysterious runes surfaced throughout Uruk, spreading rapidly outward from the temple's center. A massive magical formation, centered upon the Ouroboros, unfurled itself across the skies above the city.
Then…
"Hnnnn—"
Without warning, the violet pillar vanished. In its place, as though it had always existed there, a creature composed entirely of violet mana—half dragon, half serpent—emerged high above Uruk.
The dragon-serpent gracefully circled above the city, releasing a low, melodic hum, seemingly joyful at finally being set free.
Then, sensing something, it paused slightly, slowly shifting its gaze southward.
"Hnnn—!"
The hum rose again, but this time filled with fury, like an enraged sovereign witnessing the defilement of its territory by filthy invaders!
---
T/N: woah...