“Si-il Gúr (Stormy wind cut)!” Ishtar shouted as a whirlwind burst forth from the motion of her curved blade. The attack struck Ana head-on, forcing her back as several cuts opened across her body.

  Ana had already defeated several malakim that Ishtar had sent against her, but upon realizing they could not win, the goddess of Uruk decided to intervene herself.

  “Ninshubur, you have not trained these men properly! Look how quickly they fall!” Ishtar said in frustration to the goddess standing beside her, who looked very much like her personal secretary.

  “I believe, Lady Ishtar, that a goddess capable of defeating Mahrem without difficulty would have no trouble dealing with a group of malakim, no matter their training,” Ninshubur replied.

  “Could you defeat her?” the beautiful Sumerian goddess asked.

  “No, my lady. I could not,” her secretary answered.

  Ana had fallen to the ground, and the few remaining malakim began to attack her, but the goddess surged her divine energy and sent them flying.

  “Malakim, leave that goddess alone. I have realized you are no match for her, and I do not wish to lose more personnel needlessly,” Ishtar shouted at the angels as they struggled back to their feet.

  “I don’t have time for this,” Ana said as she rose again, lifting her sword Dyrnwyn with both hands.

  Ishtar leapt down from the ruined temple where she had been standing, landing on the same ground as Ana.

  “Very well. If you wish to end this quickly, then you will have to defeat me first,” the Mesopotamian goddess replied.

  “You are Keres number six, aren’t you? Number seven was no match for me,” Ana said with a smile as she prepared to attack.

  But Ishtar vanished from her sight. Thanks to Ana’s sharp reflexes, she narrowly avoided the lightning-fast strike of the Queen of Uruk—though Ishtar still managed to cut her left arm.

  “Do not mistake me, Morrigan. Between Mahrem and myself, there is an abyss of difference,” Ishtar said, now standing behind Ana with her sword drawn.

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  I could barely see her movements… and I can feel it—she’s using a sacred element on her weapon, Ana thought as her arm healed.

  Ninshubur and the malakim, who had returned to the ruins from which they had appeared, watched the battle and shouted joyfully, cheering Ishtar on.

  “Lady Ishtar, you are magnificent!” Ninshubur exclaimed, completely thrilled.

  Ana turned toward Ishtar and raised her sword.

  “Fine. Now it’s my turn,” she said, launching herself forward to strike, but Ishtar blocked the attack with her curved blade.

  The clash of their weapons caused a tremor and a shockwave that toppled several buildings. Ana and Ishtar exchanged blows repeatedly as they soared through the area, which now looked like an erupting volcano due to the immense power Tania continued to release.

  The two goddesses separated, each landing atop nearby buildings. The Irish goddess looked desperate, knowing that Tania was trapped in a nightmare and suffering—while time itself accelerated.

  In her desperation, Ana failed to think clearly and chose to unleash her strongest technique.

  “Claimhte Fomoire (Fomorian Swords)!” Ana shouted as demonic Fomorians emerged behind her, as though a gateway to the abyss had opened. They raised their horrifying weapons. Ana pointed at Ishtar, and the creatures fired energy from their arms, racing toward the Mesopotamian goddess.

  But Ishtar spun her sickle like a spear, deflecting every attack. Then she shouted:

  “Sagh-gaz Galla aka (Demon-slayer)!”

  A massive wave of white energy erupted from Ishtar’s blade and surged toward Ana and her demonic allies, striking them head-on. The Fomorians vanished along with their dark dimension.

  “Are you truly using demons against me? Me? The goddess who conquered the underworlds and slaughtered hundreds of demons who dared try to steal my Mes?” Ishtar asked, laughing.

  Ninshubur and the malakim, who had drawn closer to watch, shouted excitedly as Ishtar recounted her triumphs.

  “I would like to add that some of the demons Lady Ishtar mentioned were also defeated by me,” her secretary said smugly, seeking admiration—but the malakim ignored her, their attention fixed solely on the glorious Ishtar.

  Ninshubur fell silent, embarrassed at having spoken to no one.

  Ana painfully forced herself back to her feet, her expression filled with anguish.

  “No… this is a nightmare. That was my strongest technique,” she thought in despair.

  “Si-il Gúr!” Ishtar shouted again. A violent gust burst from her curved blade and slammed into Ana once more, tearing apart the building she stood upon. The goddess was hurled to the ground, near where the massive sphinx had once stood.

  At that moment, a woman’s voice echoed from afar.

  “Have you still not killed that so-called Morrigan, Ishtar?”

  Ishtar turned and shouted, “Stay out of matters that do not concern you, Sekhmet!”

  “They concern me, because I am growing impatient,” the female voice replied.

  Then the owner of that voice appeared atop another of the few remaining buildings. She was dark-skinned and dressed like an Egyptian princess in a crimson dress—its color reminding Ana of blood.

  Yet the most terrifying thing about her was her mask.

  It was the mask of a lioness—green, with a demonic gaze, thirsty for violence. Ana could swear that blood dripped from its fangs and claws.

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