Play the Villain - Chapter 138: Veteran Workaholic Big Sis

Divine Tower, Royal Palace.

As the parchment made its rounds, Samael explained the strategy and intent behind his plan. While most were struck by how it flipped the board—turning a passive defense into an active counter—Merlin was the first to sober up, a troubled crease forming between his brows.

“It’s a good idea... but it won’t be that easy, will it?”

“That’s Apsu we’re talking about. You think he’ll let us slip away so easily?”

Samael gave a resigned nod, quietly turning the chess piece in his hand.

“Before Gugalanna, the Bull of Heaven, and Huwawa, the Cedar Beast, showed up, I had a seventy percent chance...”

“Now? Barely thirty.”

Ishtar’s pupils narrowed, her expression darkening.

“You mean... Father God...”

“He’ll chase us down. Even if we reach the Persian Gulf, he won’t stop until we’re dead.”

“Gugalanna, Huwawa—they’ll probably be deployed to intercept Noah’s Ark too.”

With a sigh, Samael tossed the silver piece aside and dusted his hands, finally voicing the grim thought he’d been holding back.

“Under divine mandate, they won’t tolerate variables beyond their control.”

From the shadows, Ana’s voice rang out cool and clear, her gaze tinged with understanding.

Merlin slumped over the sand table, half-heartedly flicking the chess pieces around with a weak grunt.

“Yeah... they handed Apsu the Bull of Heaven without a second thought. That tells you all you need to know about their standards.”

“Upending the table... probably not just our specialty.”

Samael looked up, cutting off their defeatist murmurs with a steady tone.

“Destiny and divine will—those are problems for later.”

“Right now, the priority is figuring out how to survive until day eight, after Apsu bursts from the earth.”

He turned his gaze to the Great Sage, who’d burned bright a moment ago but was now dozing off lazily against a pillar.

“Merlin, can your illusion magic weave him a cradle? Get him to sleep a few days longer?”

“A few days? You’re overestimating me, Shepherd Priest.”

Merlin chuckled dryly, waving his hands in protest.

“One day! Just confuse him for one day!”

Samael wouldn’t let up, dropping the bar as low as possible. He’d laid all his cards on the table—Merlin had to give something.

“If you want me to hypnotize him with illusions, I wouldn’t last half a day.”

“One face-off, and I’m done for.”

Merlin threw up his hands, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Didn’t you fool Ti—Ere before?”

“That’s different, friend. A fake is still a fake. Illusions can only reflect what the heart desires.”

“But if I’m up against a creature driven purely by destruction, with zero mercy? Even if you sacrifice me on an altar, I still wouldn’t be able to lull him to sleep.”

Hearing that faintly bitter response, Samael rubbed his temples in silence. His last sliver of hope—already down from thirty percent—had nearly vanished.

Merlin could be slippery, but he wouldn’t lie about something like this.

And history backed it. The Goddess Tiamat never sought to exterminate humanity—that’s why she allowed herself to fall into a dream. The same went for Ereshkigal. Her attacks had been deflected into dream flowers only because of the gentleness in her heart.

But Apsu was nothing like them. He was a god of freshwater and fury—one that would slaughter without hesitation.

Counting on Merlin, a half-blood Incubus, to deceive an Origin-level deity’s senses was a fool’s hope.

All that was left... was to fight like hell until the preparations were finished.

Samael let out a long, heavy sigh. His face was bleak.

He already knew—this battle would cost many lives.

Since half a year ago, dozens of city-states in Mesopotamia—each once home to tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands—had collapsed.

Now, with the exception of Uruk, nearly every city had fallen. The land lay in ruins.

The Sumerians, who had thrived for thousands of years, had dwindled to just twenty or thirty thousand—barely enough to keep the Two Rivers civilization alive.

In the end, even Samael, who still clung to hope, had no choice but to lower his expectations and prepare for the worst.

...

At dawn, the Shepherd Priest, who had meditated through the night, opened his eyes wearily.

After many days, he had finally reestablished resonance with the Mother Goddess, Tiamat.

But the result was deeply disappointing.

As a being cast out, Tiamat still remained rejected by the world. If she tried to force her way back through the dimensional barrier, it could easily backfire—her weakened consciousness unable to suppress her beastly instincts. She would follow the law of return, dismantling and reconstructing the world from scratch.

With Apsu dominating the land and Tiamat rising from the sea, humanity would have no escape.

Unless... he could find a way to bring the Mother Goddess safely back to the Mesopotamian world and awaken her instinct to protect mankind.

But despite all his deliberation, the Shepherd Priest sitting alone in the royal court found no solution. He could only shelve the thought for now.

...

That morning, warm sunlight—long absent—spilled from the Solar Calendar Stone and bathed Uruk.

Compared to the outer lands drenched in storms, swallowed by raging torrents, this place was a true sanctuary.

Samael glanced up at the Solar Calendar Stone atop the Astrology Tower, a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

...

Two hours later, in the topmost room of the Astrology Tower, where dense incantations covered the walls—

A golden-haired woman lay resting on the bed, lifting a slice of mango from a fruit platter and placing it in her mouth. Sweetness bloomed across her tongue.

As she chewed, Kukulkan propped her chin up with long, slender fingers, smiling toward the head of the bed.

“What brings you two here?”

Mouth stuffed with fruit, Ana gestured awkwardly, looking adorably clumsy.

“What, we can’t drop by just because we’re busy?”

Samael sat nearby, holding a bowl of date porridge. He gently blew on the spoon until it cooled, then brought it to the Mayan goddess’s lips.

The porridge was thick with the scent of medicinal herbs.

“Was it that loose-tongued Tezcatlipoca again?”

“One of these days I’ll twist her head off and mount it as a landmark!”

Kukulkan frowned and let out a cold snort, her lips curling into a fearsome grin. The temperature in the room dropped sharply.

“Oh, come on. It’s just you and your sister here—without someone to bicker with, wouldn’t it be even lonelier?”

“Besides, she’s worried about you.”

Samael fed her the porridge as he tried to ease the tension.

She’d broken the Three Goddess Alliance, losing a huge portion of her divinity. Then came the Black Tide and the Noble Phantasm's True Name activation—wounding her further.

And still, she’d rushed to Eridu, dismantled her second Noble Phantasm, and fought the legendary Abgallu to the death.

After that, she’d held back a mountain flood and kept the Solar Calendar Stone operational. She was now utterly exhausted, unable even to leave the Astrology Tower.

A veteran warrior—overworked and pushed to her absolute limit.

...

“Feeling bad for your big sis?”

“A little...”

“So this is a sympathy visit?”

“I guess...”

“Aw, you’re so sweet and adorable. You’re hitting all my soft spots. How about...”

“Hmm?”

“You marry me?”

“Cough—!”

“No? Then this big sister will marry you!”

“...”

Kukulkan blinked, an amused smile playing at her lips.