Miracle Summoner

"Let me go!"

Within the Divine Tower of Uruk, Ishtar's furious voice echoed loudly.

At this very moment, Ishtar remained seated on the ground, struggling furiously. Her lovely face was flushed red with a mix of shame and rage.

However, under the restraint of a mana-sealing barrier and magecraft from the Age of Gods, even a goddess couldn't break free from the rope-like flashes of light binding her. That only made Ishtar more enraged.

And the more agitated Ishtar became, the more delighted Gilgamesh appeared.

"What a rare spectacle. The most pampered diva in all of history—spoiled by the Father of the Gods and countless deities alike—reduced to a prisoner within the very city she once protected. I imagine the taste of this humiliation must be rather... rich?"

Gilgamesh mocked her deliberately, stoking her fury to even greater heights.

"Who are you calling the most pampered diva in history, you pompous king of arrogance?!"

Ishtar snapped back through gritted teeth.

But Gilgamesh was unbothered.

"Indeed, I am the greatest in all history. That's a fact, not something you need to reiterate. Both humans and gods are well aware."

He said it like it was the most natural truth in the world.

"I was calling you pompous, not praising you, idiot!"

Ishtar glared.

"I know perfectly well you'd never praise me. Even if the sky fell and the earth cracked, the only person you'd praise is yourself, you pompous goddess."

Gilgamesh didn't appear annoyed at all—on the contrary, he seemed to enjoy provoking her.

"Grrrrrr...!"

Ishtar realized that no matter what she said, it wouldn't change the reality: she had become his prisoner. So long as that was true, all her angry shouting would only sound like the barking of a defeated dog. Her delicate features twisted in frustration.

But to Gilgamesh, her reaction was... surprising.

"How strange. Given how spoiled you are, I thought by now you'd be threatening me by invoking your divine father's name, or proclaiming you'd raze all of Uruk if I didn't release you immediately. And yet, you're oddly calm. It seems this manifestation of yours has corrected some of your more twisted tendencies, hasn't it, Ishtar?"

He gave her an appraising look, as if genuinely impressed.

Unfortunately, all it did was deepen Ishtar's humiliation.

"You dare imprison me like this? That's something not even the collapse of heaven and earth can justify! Do you really think this is enough to subdue me?"

She spoke as if forcing herself to swallow her fury.

It was clear—she wasn't going to let this go easily.

And rightly so.

As the most privileged goddess in Mesopotamian myth, Ishtar had never suffered such treatment.

In all of mythology, she'd only ever been made a prisoner and mocked like this once. That time was worse than this—but it had been under special circumstances, and while it left her resentful, it hadn't left her feeling humiliated.

But this time was different.

From her perspective, since she had manifested in this world, she had been tolerant toward Uruk's actions.

Even after Gilgamesh had taken control of the city, she never seriously tried to reclaim it—she treated it as something already lost, occasionally dropping by as if for a stroll.

Sure, she would always end up causing a ruckus, but the fact that she hadn't flattened the place with her Authority was already the greatest act of mercy from a benevolent goddess.

And yet, despite her mercy, they repaid her with this? Of course she was furious!

What's more, Ishtar had already been in a bad mood today.

She had been unable to find something important she'd lost, so she'd come to Uruk to blow off some steam. Then, she'd been ambushed, caught off guard, knocked out, and captured.

How could her mood not sour?

Of course, that alone wouldn't have pushed her into such a tantrum.

Though Gilgamesh was mocking her, Ishtar's temperament had mellowed significantly since she manifested this time. Even angry, she wasn't about to completely lose control.

But what she couldn't tolerate... was being humiliated in front of Gilgamesh.

And who was Gilgamesh?

The very man who had scorned her proposal, humiliating her like no other.

It was to get revenge on him that Ishtar had unleashed the Bull of Heaven, Gugalanna, upon the mortal world—and then cried to her father, resulting in Enkidu's death, a wound that left Gilgamesh filled with regret.

And now, to end up like this in front of that same man?

How could she possibly not lose composure?

Even if her current self couldn't understand why she ever fell for this arrogant ancient king of mankind and nouveau riche blowhard, the grudge between them had long since been cemented.

So being shamed like this before him—Ishtar simply couldn't endure it.

Meanwhile, Gilgamesh, because of that past resentment, found immense satisfaction in watching this proud goddess fall so far.

"I am fully aware that this level of restraint will only hold you temporarily. But that's enough."

He looked down on her from above, voice cold and mocking.

"You're a captured trophy of war now. That's a truth you can't deny. And for the goddess of war and Venus, to be unable to admit even that much—that would be the real disgrace!"

At these words, Ishtar was left speechless.

Because Gilgamesh was right.

She had become a captive—a war trophy. There was no disputing that.

Even if it was a reality that should never have come to pass, it had come to pass.

And as the goddess of war, she could not deny it.

Otherwise, how could she call herself such a goddess?

If she had lost, then she had to pay the price.

That was the iron law of war.

Realizing this, Ishtar gradually calmed herself down.

Then, she turned her gaze toward Rozen, who was standing nearby, protected by Mash.

She stared hard at him, eyes filled with simmering resentment.

Because she hadn't forgotten—the one responsible for her current state... was him.

"Who are you?" Ishtar demanded. "I've never seen your face. And you seem… different. You're not from Uruk, are you?"

Rozen, who had been silently observing her all this time, narrowed his eyes slightly as her attention finally turned toward him.

Many questions surfaced in his mind at her reaction.

But he didn't voice them.

"I'm not from Uruk," he said with a sudden smile. "In fact, I'm not even from this world."

"I am Rorelei Arneet," he introduced himself plainly. "From the future."

"Pleased to meet you, goddess of Venus."