Ea vs Shamash
As the battle of the four Masters intensified on one side, the fight belonging to the Servants surged to another peak on the main battlefield.
After defeating Cu Chulainn, Arkhan was preparing to finish him off decisively when suddenly several finely forged swords attacked, forcing him to retreat.
Glancing at the divine weapons stuck into the ground, Arkhan raised an eyebrow and turned to Gilgamesh, who stood atop a distant building.
"I didn't expect you to intervene and save him."
"Don't jest with me. I am only here to personally punish that treacherous rebel." Gilgamesh sneered, his crimson vertical pupils revealing a chilling serpent-like coldness. "Once I'm done with you, I'll ensure he faces the consequences."
"Sorry to burst your bubble."
Arkhan stomped his foot, unleashing an explosion of EX Mana. The land within a meter radius immediately shattered and cracked, the powerful reactionary force propelling his body to seemingly teleport in front of Gilgamesh, his black spear dripping with a strong power of death.
"Your ambitions are no longer possible."
Seeing this, Gilgamesh's pupils abruptly shrank. At the critical moment, an incredibly ornate pure white sword emerged from the golden ripples behind him, forming a barrier to shield him.
*Peng—!!!*
Like the shattering of glass, despite being the 'Ultimate Unbroken Hallow', Durandal, which grants its wielder divine protection, could only withstand Arkhan's merciless blows for a moment before disintegrating into countless shards.
However, for Gilgamesh, this slight buffering time was more than enough. He reached into the Gate of Babylon, retrieving Vajra, with thunderous magical energy swirling around it, emanating extraordinary power.
"Though I disdain remembering the names of treasures in my vault, a few things stand out and leave an impression."
Gilgamesh grinned wickedly, loudly proclaiming the true name of his Noble Phantasm.
"Vajra!"
Vajra, the iconic weapon of Indra, the god symbolizing 'God of Lightning' in ancient Indian mythology, crafted by the divine artisan Tvastar from the bones of the sage Dadhichi, capable of destroying even the fearsome dragon Vritra, which many cities were helpless against.
*BOOM!* *BOOM!* *BOOM!* *BOOM!*
Golden thunders surged wildly, their violent power unleashed, transforming the space within a radius of ten meters into an ocean of thunder. The divine power manifested itself vividly at this moment as if the heavens were unleashing their wrath.
Relentless divine thunder relentlessly bombarded Arkhan.
Despite the empowerment from the Black Dragon Body, he couldn't withstand the natural authority. In an instant, he was battered, blood flowing, body charred, and a hint of roasted meat scent lingered in the air.
However, a powerful surge of vitality suddenly emanated from him, swiftly healing all wounds. The charred skin fell away, leaving behind smooth flesh without a trace of scars, even more refined than before.
"Your vitality is quite tenacious..." Gilgamesh's expression darkened slightly. "Then, how about this?"
He waved his hand, and a pitch-black demonic sword shot out from the Gate of Babylon. The terrifying curse condensed into a visible black haze, swirling around the sword. Ghostly, mournful howls echoed as if the entire world dimmed at this moment.
Dainsleif, the legendary sword said to 'take a life once drawn, never returning to its sheath until such is accomplished', had a curse so potent that it brought about the terrifying power of destruction. Anyone who wielded it would be tainted by the curse and inevitably face death.
Watching the approaching demonic sword, Arkhan's black vertical pupils remained calm, like a serene lake without a ripple. He calmly extended his palm and captured the sword with his bare hand, which sent shivers down anyone's spine.
The power of the curse instantly erupted.
The black haze surrounding the sword madly rushed towards Arkhan, smelling like a rabid hound closing in on rotten flesh. Yet, at that moment, black flames ignited on his body, completely incinerating the haze, as if it never existed.
'What?!'
Gilgamesh's eyes couldn't help but reveal a trace of astonishment. Even as a demigod, he dared not touch the curse of Dainsleif. What method did this man use to expel it?
"Just relying on such a little toy won't pose a threat to me. Show me your real trump card, Gilgamesh."
Arkhan casually tossed aside the now dull and cursed sword. His black dragon eyes coldly stared at Gilgamesh.
"Otherwise, you won't get another chance."
Hearing that, Gilgamesh's face instantly turned ugly, and the burning fury in his crimson vertical pupils surged.
"Since you seek death, I shall grant it!"
The Gate of Babylon swung open once again.
A peculiar, golden handle materialized, and Gilgamesh reached out his hand, grasping it. A dense network of magic circuits, like twisted branches, spread and converged. When all settled, Gilgamesh held in his hand a uniquely shaped yet immensely powerful divine sword.
It sliced through nothingness, shaping the sky, piercing the heavens, and returning to the void—a symbol of the power of creation and destruction. Only the King of Uruk, Gilgamesh, could wield it. This was the sword named after the great god of Mesopotamian mythology, the Sword of Rupture—Ea!
Feeling the might of this Divine Construct, not inferior to Excalibur, Arkhan's eyes betrayed a hint of solemnity.
"I must admit, Lancer, you are indeed a formidable opponent. The second one to make this king feel so challenged!" Gilgamesh, with serpent-like crimson eyes, squinted slightly. "In respect for you, I shall grant you the grandest of deaths."
He pointed Ea at Arkhan and, in a deep voice, declared.
"Judgment is upon you."
"Behold the crushing might of my Sword of Rupture."
"Behold—Enuma Elish!"
*BOOOM—!!!*
A terrifying surge of crimson magical energy erupted like a raging tidal wave. The shockwaves from the magical storm distorted space irregularly, the earth cracked inch by inch, and all living things vanished. In the face of this absolute power, even gods had only one path—destruction.
Arkhan took a deep breath, and the black spear in his hand transformed instantly into a burning greatsword. The immense magical energy generated by his black dragon heart continuously infused it, making the greatsword shine brighter as if a sun hid within.
He swung the greatsword forcefully forward, his resounding voice echoing through the heavens and earth.
"Shamash, unleashed!"
"Might of An-Utu!"
An endless surge of scorching flames erupted, akin to a burning cloud, rising with a heat rivaling the sun itself. It seemed as though it aimed to engulf the entire world, instantly colliding with the approaching storm of magical energy.
The clash was like a meeting of unstoppable forces, a collision of heat and power that held the promise of reshaping the very fabric of reality.
Time seemed to freeze at that moment, and then—
*BOOOOOOM—!!!*