Chapter 011: Casually Killing the Chief God?
Brünhilde felt a chill. Could she really select this king? He was unbelievably terrifying—so much so that she was on the verge of wetting herself. This was humanity's first ever slayer of a chief god, and his name was—Gilgamesh!
Chapter 012: One-Time Noble Phantasms, Progress Reaches 99.9%
Gilgamesh's red gaze narrowed as he watched Anu's motionless form. The crimson spear protruded from the god's chest, blood staining the stone slab. A being called "god" had actually been killed?
To be honest, when he threw the Chains of Heaven, Gilgamesh himself doubted whether they could bind a true deity. Yet the result spoke for itself.
He looked at the fetters that had held Anu so tightly—now slackened, as though the chain itself had unwound. The once-ominous Spear of Piercing Death, dyed red with divine blood, now felt like an ordinary metal spear painted vermilion. Both relics had lost their magic.
They were one-shot Noble Phantasms: the disposable Chains of Heaven and the single-use Spear of Piercing Death.
At 50% progress the system had chimed:
"Progress reached 50%—reward granted: one-time Noble Phantasm, Chains of Heaven."
A one-time use? Then at 90%:
"Progress reached 90%—reward granted: one random Noble Phantasm from the King's Treasures: Spear of Piercing Death."
A glimmer of hope—only to find it was the demon-slaying lance wielded by Szhakhka, not Gungnir. Why that spear, and not Odin's own? Even Gilgamesh didn't know.
Now that Anu lay dead, what did his progress read?
"Current Progress: 99.9%."
A maddening stall, frozen so close to 100%. Killing a god had been surprisingly simple—Anu had underestimated him and let the chains bind him.
But another visitor approached. Had the sky god arrived with backup? If only Gilgamesh had faced Anu and his pantheon together, he might have used the spear's full power—instead of just pinning one body.
Moments later, other Babylonian deities appeared in the heavens.
"Silence!" At first, these lesser gods had hovered back in fear of Anu's wrath. Now, drawn nearer by the eerie calm, they witnessed a sight that stole their breath: Anu, once resplendent with divine might, lay slain upon a mortal altar. Chained, felled, and impaled like a lamb led to slaughter. A human had slain a god?
Impossible. No mundane weapon could smite a chief deity—let alone extinguish its soul. Perhaps Anu had fallen ill, and Gilgamesh had simply stumbled upon luck? But Anu was their supreme lord—dead by a mortal's hand? Unthinkable.
Their eyes drifted to the great cauldron beside the altar, still simmering.
"That's the Bull of Heaven?"
Indeed, Gugalanna had been cooked. Gilgamesh was truly mad—and Anu's fury was fully explained.
"King of Uruk—what have you done?" cried Ishtar, her voice quavering with terror and rage.
Gilgamesh smiled, dark and pleasant. "What have I done? I merely killed one of your vermin. Why make such a fuss?"
His flippant tone and casual dismissal left the gods trembling with outrage. They yearned to tear this arrogant mortal apart—but none dared strike first. Perhaps some hidden aid had empowered Gilgamesh. Those fetters and that lance were no mere human craft.
Scanning the battlefield revealed no trickery. Gilgamesh had simply seated himself upon the high throne of the broken altar—so high they should have looked down at him; instead, his indomitable presence made them feel they stood beneath him.
A mere human—yet they all sensed their world turned upside down. Shock, shame, and anger coiled in their chests.
Then a new terror descended: the storm god Marduk himself appeared. Towering beside Anu's corpse, he reached for the blood-stained spear.
"What—?" Marduk gasped, staring in disbelief. The lance was nothing more than an ordinary human-forged weapon. How could it have slain Anu, and chains bound his power? Godhood itself had been undone, his soul sundered beyond any revival.
"Tell me, King of Uruk—who assisted you?" Marduk demanded.
Gilgamesh laughed. "Do I need help? I required no one's aid."
His unshakable pride convinced Marduk that no secret god's hand had intervened. This mortal alone had dared to slay a chief deity.
Marduk's face hardened. A bolt of divine retribution gathered above—a judgment spear of crackling black lightning.
Chapter 013: The End of Divine Punishment—Who's Next?
Without the lightning's glow, the world lay in inky darkness. Leaden clouds churned overhead, poised to crush the earth. Thunder roared so loud it made the ground tremble.
Countless jagged streaks of lightning coalesced above the King of Uruk, forging a spear of judgment. Its hue deepened from white to cobalt to obsidian—the color of death.
Even through the time-slip viewing, Grea trembled. Had she been in that time stream, she'd surely collapse in fear. But now she watched on a flat screen in the Akashic Records, safe from detection.
Brünhilde clenched her fists. This divine punishment would not only annihilate Gilgamesh's body—they intended to erase his soul, as they had Anu's. If that happened, she'd lose her champion for Ragnarok.
The black spear fell. Gilgamesh did not flinch. Had the storm god's assault been absorbed by some hidden defense? Did he still hold another trick?
The spear struck. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen—and Brünhilde dared hope.
Then Gilgamesh's flesh began to vanish like dry ice sublimating, leaving only bone. Crackling fractures raced across the skeleton, which shattered into ebony dust.
But the final humiliation followed: a translucent humanoid flame emerged—his soul aflame like wick and oil. Under the agony of true annihilation, any mortal would scream—but this spirit sat unmoving, upright as ever.
"Others must atone," the flame intoned.
"Yes," agreed other gods. "Mortals who dared gaze upon us must suffer, too."
At their command, that silent soul-flame lifted its gaze—and murderously glared back. Its aura was so cold and lethal that several minor gods, unprepared for such killing intent, fell from the air. One could only laugh at their shameful fall.
"Cursed Gilgamesh!" hissed Ishtar, trembling as she plotted to punish his people next.