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Battle for Babylonia: Continuation (258)
🕑 Added 2025-04-14 18:56:41 +0000 UTCThe monstrous form of Tiamat paused for a moment after the blow struck her. And for the first time during the entire battle, something that in a human mind might be called a ‘thought’ flickered behind her empty and lost gaze. However, this thought contained neither reflection nor emotion, it wasn't ‘understanding’ or a ‘conclusion’, but rather an idle ‘thought’ that flashes through a person's mind completely randomly when they glance at some random detail in their surroundings.
Something so trivial that it couldn't even be called a ‘thought’ as such.
Just as a person might involuntarily notice that a wall is gray, or that the day is already ending as they saw a sunset. It was more of a ‘feeling’ rather than a ‘thought’, certainly nothing that needs to be spoken out loud.
Tiamat similarly looked at the Servants standing against her in that way, as if just noticing their existence as such for the first time. Unlike many others, however, there was nothing to be proud about in making Tiamat have this realization.
Compared to Tiamat, the Servants before her truly ‘did not exist’.
But Tiamat did pause for a moment — and this alone was more than enough to indicate that the previous attacks had not been useless.
"Mother of Monsters, is it?" Angrboda's voice was in some ways respectful of Tiamat's title, but at the same time her tone indicated that she was slightly irritated that someone dared to use the title that she considered rightfully hers. "Well then, let's test how deserved your claim is."
A moment later, a figure flashed before Tiamat's face, so small and so fast that Tiamat herself didn't even have time to focus her gaze on it. Before the blow had arrived and made her head sway to the side.
Relative to Tiamat herself, it couldn't even be called a proper slap, her head merely swayed to the side, as it might have been moved by an unexpected but not too strong gust of wind. But this was already more than all the previous Noble Phantasms taken all together against her had achieved.
An unfamiliar, strange feeling touched Tiamat — an unusual sensation that was incompatible with her nature at some fundamental level.
Angrboda landed next to Tiamat, relatively speaking, of course, the distance between Tiamat’s feet made the concept of being ‘next’ to her somewhat hard to understand. Still, Angrboda had landed ‘near’ to Tiamat, after which she quickly pushed off from the ground hard enough that it broke the ground, and the stone underneath it from the strain.
Within one blink of the eye and the next, Angrboda crashed into Tiamat's stomach, causing the large Beast to reflexively look down, slightly tensing her abdomen from Angrboda’s impact. Landing on Tiamat’s knee, Angrboda avoided Tiamat's black slime, rising up Tiamat’s legs on top of her Black ‘dress’, before darting to the side, raising her hand for the next strike.
Angrboda wasn't using her Noble Phantasm at the moment, but her raw physical strength went beyond not just what could be calculated, but beyond what could be imagined. Still, Tiamat represented the embodiment of all life on earth, the primordial goddess of everything—fighting her was fighting everything that had ever been alive in this world, past, present, and future, the source that created all living things in the world.
Therefore, Angrboda's punches, which elicited such small reactions from Tiamat, meant that Angrboda possessed physical strength sufficient to cause a reaction from all living things that ever existed and will exist in history with each of her full-strength blows. In other words, each of Angrboda's strikes was a force that, by itself, could leave a mark in the genetic memory of Humanity.
One blow from Angrboda could split the lithospheric plate and cause magma to erupt to the earth's surface. One blow could forever erase words like ‘Japanese archipelago’ or ‘British Isles’ from memory. One blow could turn the Amazon rainforest into a dried-out wasteland, full of century-old trees that are shattered into sand-like splinters.
But against Tiamat, such strikes achieved much more – they forced her to divert her attention to Angrboda. And to nothing and no one else as Tiamat raised one of her titanic arms.
The raised arm was not meant for an attack, but rather an attempt to swat an irritant – catastrophically fast despite the large size, Tiamat’s opened hand collided with Angrboda a moment later.
A catastrophic crack both through the air as a gale like force was created through Tiamat’s action, and a crevice spread across the ground. Flesh collided with flesh, and the world around Tiamat and Angrboda gave way first.
The air pressure was so dense, as if the very air itself had been compressed into solid matter. The ground beneath the feet of the two colliding progenitors of monsters didn't crumble, but was simply displaced by a solid stream of air, as if one substance had replaced another.
The collision of two Absolute Forces froze in a moment of brief equilibrium – but the resolution of the confrontation did not come. For, behind Tiamat appeared Arthur, who had taken advantage of the moment of distraction between the two Mothers of Monsters.
But then, what could Arthur accomplish?
In her arsenal, there existed an unbelievable amount of five Noble Phantasms.
Excalibur – The Sword That Expels All Evil.
Camelot – Humanity's Last Stronghold.
Knights of the Round Table – The Twelve Greatest.
Holy Grail – The Only Sacred Relic of a Sinful World.
And last but by far definitely not the least;
Avalon – A Knight Always Fulfills Their Duty.
Possessing these five Noble Phantasms, Arthur not only surpassed any Servant – she transcended the very concept of a Servant as one who was summoned to fulfill a mission or battle. Instead, She became a monolith that defined its own nature and the conditions of its existence. Even Ainz could not so easily defeat her if she were to use her entire arsenal – he would need to use his own Noble Phantasms and fight at full strength to subdue Arthur.
The greatest miracle that humanity had produced in all of Yggdrasil. The undisputed strongest Paladin.
However, the truth was that there were two Arthurs. In countless timelines, there were many stories, but Arthur existed in only two possible variations.
The one in which the Supreme Beings, the Players – had helped save her Camelot, in which Arthur was the greatest Paladin and Chief guardian of Humanity, possessing her full power. A timeline in which she ruled legions of Knights and towered over humanity like a beacon, her light revealing any threat to Humanity and dealing with it without any mercy.
The one in which Camelot did not fall under the blow of her treacherous son.
And then there’s the other Arthur, the Arthur who had lost in her final battle. The one who was killed by her own son on the steps of her throne room. The one who could not bear the weight of being Humanity's champion and fell, never to rise again.
The Arthur created and then summoned by Ainz Ooal Gown.
Therefore, Arthur did not lie when she spoke of possessing five Noble Phantasms – she should have.
It's just that the Arthur she spoke of was not herself.
And so, after a moment, the blade flashed in Arthur's hands, but it was not the name of the Strongest Holy Sword that was called, nor the Holiest of Relics, or the Greatest Knights of the Land. No, it would be the symbol of ultimate betrayal.
"Ruined Camelot – The Knight's Last Stand."
All the pain and suffering, betrayal and obsessive desire to win in one single final battle, even when the war was already lost, all to deliver a single strike to her enemy. The despair that brings one to reject all paladin oaths and, for the sake of one battle, betray all the years of hard work.
Her reputation, life, mission, and reason, all for a singular reason, to accomplish a single desire at all costs, disregarding her nature – to drag her enemy down with her.
The once-gleaming blade of Arthur’s dimmed, as if its light had been sacrificed for Arthur's single strike.
Arthur's final battle at the cost of her life.
Arthur's mind was clouded fully, and any thoughts, any covenants, everything else ceased to exist. It was all shrouded in a blood-colored haze as her blade struck the bone armor covering Tiamat's shoulder.
Then it went through, breaking past the bone, and downward still, cutting through her flesh.
Tiamat's black, tar-like blood gushed outward along with the realization in Tiamat's mind about what incomparable feeling, contrary to her nature, she had been experiencing all this time.
For the first time since the creation of the world, Tiamat felt pain.
***
Ainz moved through the territory of Tiamat's mind with the desperate agility of a wild beast let off its leash, snarling with all possible spells that existed in his arsenal. Yet his mind was not subject to panic or desperation, only clear observation of Tiamat herself.
One spell after another crashed into Tiamat's mind, forcing her to respond swiftly.
Her sharp movements contradicted any logic, and if not for his ability of flight and teleportation, Ainz would have long been caught under her blow. Testing the strength of an opponent capable of withstanding a dozen seventh-eighth rank spells without even showing a reaction was something Ainz didn't want to do at all.
And yet, here he is.
"Expected and yet unexpected." Ainz remarked to himself as he moved sideways again, and then upward, avoiding the rising wave of black slime that tried to drag him down, before having to juke sideways. As if he had kept flying in the same direction for a moment more, he would have found himself the unfortunate victim of Tiamat’s punch, who was reading his evasion strategies quite well.
"This is the first opponent since meeting Solomon whom I cannot simply defeat with a couple of spells… How interesting."
Tiamat, judging by her sloppy punches, was clearly completely unaccustomed to battles – instead she was learning how to fight during the fight, inventing one technique after another. For example, flying up to Ainz, she had raised her Black Sea behind her, catching her airborne figure and, like a hand, had swung her, launching her at Ainz.
However, even with all her rapidly growing skills and tactical mind, her inexperience hampered her greatly. She could be as fast, as durable, as powerful as she wants, it wouldn’t be helping her when Ainz could read her intention like an open book. So, Ainz teleported not toward Tiamat, not where her Black Sea was already rising to trap him, but backward, slightly out of reach of her hands, after which he retaliated with a new spell in his large arsenal.
A huge acid cloud bloomed around him covering a large area, immediately inundating the Black Sea that was trying to capture him. Immediately, the sound of flesh being cooked, sounding as if the Black Sea was squealing in pain resounded, the living Black Sea scurrying away from the source of pain. Tiamat, however, caught in the epicenter, being so close to Ainz, merely jumped back, leaving the spell's area of effect with her incredible speed.
Affirming another of Ainz’s conjectures.
Despite the fact that his spells seemingly had no effect on Tiamat, her appearance remaining unchanged, it didn’t mean that the damage was zero. After all, otherwise, she would have not dodged and instead pushed on the attack, as even Ainz ‘defenseless’ figure was not enough to bait Tiamat into wading deeper into the acid cloud.
This meant that using normal spells, Ainz could try to defeat Tiamat, and that his usual tactic, of turning battles into a battle of attrition while trying to find the silver bullet to end a battle in one shot, could work… But here, Ainz unexpectedly hit a snag.
Ainz's usual tactics, when fighting opponents comparable to his level or higher, usually included a two or even three stage plan.
First, was the preparatory combat reconnaissance, a way to determine just how powerful and dangerous the enemy he’s facing is. Second, was when he would start planning, testing the enemy’s defenses and blunting their strengths, though of course, this stage was preferably already done in advance with scouting. But, of course, no plan survives the enemy, and scouting the enemy with a battle is the most surefire way of finding the path to victory.
It is at this stage, if Ainz found that he couldn’t defeat the enemy with his current loadout that he would retreat, then prepare for the next fight. The battlefield would be chosen, his loadout would be specialized, and just what support, usually his summons, that he would need to clinch the perfect victory.
Finally, the last stage — a resounding victory over an opponent who had no chance to defend against his tactics.
It didn't matter how long Ainz retreated in preparatory battles, as long as he won in the end.
However, in the current circumstances, Ainz had nowhere to retreat. According to the information he received before he plunged into Tiamat’s mind, Tiamat had already begun her advance on the real world. If he withdrew now, she would simply turn her full power against the Servants fighting her in reality.
Moreover, if he dragged out the battle with her, using the most advantageous tactics, gradually finding solutions to her defenses and examining her every possible movement to find openings, he might simply not be able to stop her before all his Servants are dead. Or, even if Ainz trusted the Servants, both his and not, to handle Tiamat, which, while is a very long shot, is certainly possible — taking his sweet time here, would only mean that Tiamat would be causing irreparable damage to the real world.
Therefore, Ainz, with immense pain and sorrow in his heart, would have to do what he so disliked – to start laying his cards on the table before his opponent and simply fight not with intellect and tactics, but with raw power.
At least, Ainz could comfort himself with a thought; that for once, he could begin fighting at his full strength and flex his muscles a little. Having to worry all the time about how his strongest arsenal could do more damage than it would help have been a constant annoyance.
But here? In the middle of a mindscape, he couldn’t do any damage to the real world now, can he?
And so, he could let loose.
And this, in some sense, was also a small victory for Ainz.
And so, teleporting again, Ainz appeared behind Tiamat, then raised his hand, "Deicide EX."
A moment later, as if an invisible wave passed through Tiamat's body, Ainz’s skill painfully started tearing away Tiamat’s divine authority and essence along with her skin. Her body shuddered, as it was suddenly stripped of any protection between her and the cruel, cold world around her. Her bone and the flesh beneath cracked, bursting with streams of black oily blood, so similar to the Black Sea that had engulfed the entire world. The black ichor dripped unceasingly down to the Black Sea, mixing with it, as it began bubbling joyfully, as if it had just received a delectable delicacy.
Tiamat's head froze, trembling slightly, as her eyes opened in fear and pain, a feeling so unusual to the origin of all life on this earth.
However, when she turned to Ainz, she saw only his bony hand extended forward and heard his voice. "Reality Slash."
Space seemed to come apart at the seams where Tiamat's horn touched her head, and in one half of the frozen frame was Tiamat herself, and in the second, the sign of her inhuman nature.
After a moment, the film, torn into two parts, continued to separate, not recognizing the moment when the whole world was divided into two halves, frozen, each in its own reality. And so Tiamat’s horn fell by itself, as if it was never connected at all in the first place with her head, although the world itself witnessed that this was not so.
Tiamat's horn was not cut off – it simply never existed in that space.
Originally, the world itself was different, Tiamat never had a left horn in the first place, she could not have according to all the divine blueprints – and, of course, she would never have in the future.
It was an impossibility.
The world itself was not arranged in such a way that this was possible – the sky would sooner be green, walking on the ceiling would sooner become the norm, the entire universe would sooner collapse into nothing, than the very idea that a horn was once located on the left side of Tiamat's head would become normal.
But Tiamat's memory spoke of something else, spoke of the fact that she was such, that it was a wound. That her horn was cut off, and that the world itself took Ainz's side in this to convince Tiamat herself that she was insane.
And beyond the pain, the strangest and most unnatural emotion invaded Tiamat's mind, the most repugnant to her nature.
Fear.
And after fear came wrath.
***
Fear was an emotion whose origin lay in death. Any creature that tried to avoid death was, in its essence, subject to fear — because fear was an instinct embedded far deeper than any other emotion.
Every living being avoided conditions unsuitable for its existence, even singular-celled bacteria and protozoa, creatures devoid of any hint of possible thought even at the most basic levels, were not devoid of fear. By avoiding conditions that provoked their demise, they demonstrated that fear was something more than a mere emotion. Even things that could not experience joy or anger, fear was ever present, as fear was an untouchable biological function of an organism, ensuring its survival.
So it is that the reason that all things could live in the world could be reduced to fear — since fear was the reason for the continuation of life.
Tiamat was the source of all living things, an indestructible being from which everything came from. She is the immutable truth of this world, as unchangeable as the laws of physics or the understanding of what was ‘up’ and ‘down’.
But Tiamat was alive.
And therefore, fear never left her completely.
The defensive reactions of an organism in relation to fear were as variable as the possible structure of the organism itself. Shock, escape, even to blank itself from all stimuli, the mind's attempt to overpower emotion, to request help, to plead for their continued existence… All in order to escape what they fear.
Tiamat chose anger.
A roar — for the first time in all existence itself, Tiamat cried out in anger. As Arthur's blade cut through her flesh, painting the surrounding ground with a crimson waterfall, anger sprouted forth from the farthest corner of Tiamat's mind, gaining control over more and more of her body and mind. Finally, it captured Tiamat herself completely.
"BACK!" Gilgamesh's voice was drowned in Tiamat's roar, but even if it hadn't — Arthur wouldn't have heard his words, as Arthur herself was drowned in anger. Tiamat's anger and Arthur's anger came from different natures and different sources, but it still ruled their minds and bodies in equal proportion.
For Arthur, there existed an opponent, not a command, a plan, or even a battle. Only the fight matters, only an enemy that needed to be destroyed by any means still existed in her eyes.
Tiamat's Black Sea, which had previously swayed like an evening dress at her feet, struck forth in all directions. It moved in erratic motions, like an animal striking back once it was hurt, countless tendrils, drops of the Black Sea, churned in unpredictable directions striking anyone near. Until finally, the countless tendrils merged, again and again, and then the howling chirping of hundreds and hundreds of new monsters rose through the air.
Even so, it was not the end, Tiamat was no longer rational, least of all placid like her previous self. She knows that she was weakened – but for the first time in all her existence, a purpose appeared in her mind. A singular desire.
The desire to fight for her life.
What all the ancient gods of Mesopotamia could not achieve with their betrayal manifested in Tiamat's mind when confronted with a handful of Servants — and one mad fool among the sleeping.
Tiamat's divinity slid off her as skin could be shed after a severe burn, exposing the charred flesh beneath her essence. And for the first time in all of Tiamat's existence, she was defenseless against the low impulses of human nature, she felt fear, emotions, and desires.
But if she was not protected from those, then, the whole world around her was not protected from her true nature in return.
"Benkei Butsu!" Benkei's voice was drowned out by the rampaging Tiamat, but still the Noble Phantasm was called, one Benkei appeared next to them, then a second, third, fourth… Then finally, Seven Benkeis stood where previously there was only one.
A Noble Phantasm borne from the legend that one Benkei was equal to seven in a single battle, that his steps sounded like seven, that one swing of his blade could send seven to the afterlife.
It was a simple trick. Nothing more than the fact that one actor could experience multiple roles in a single performance, seven roles in a performance, was merely an expected fact. And the fact that the actor now looked like a wandering monk, and the stage of the play was the battlefield, did not change this fact.
Benkei's seven spears struck simultaneously at the monstrous armada that began to sprung out from under Tiamat's feet. Perhaps this would have been more than enough to deal with the waves of monsters that sprung forth ceaselessly. But this excluded Tiamat herself from the equation – Tiamat, who, for the first time in her existence, had acquired a desire, the desire to live.
And woe betide anyone that tried to stop her.
The palm that struck from above was not any Noble Phantasm, but it was no longer the errant swat to sweep away an annoying fly. From any other, it would have been a careless attack, an attack that opens one more to attack, but for Benkei, it was like the sky itself had fallen.
Benkei along with his copies, plus an uncountable number of monsters, were turned into a puddle of crushed flesh and spilled blood. Benkei's Noble Phantasm lasted half a second before being swept into nothingness – but Tiamat's monsters didn't last a thousandth of that. However, where being crushed had ended Benkei, the monsters found being reduced to paste, a more singular-celled organism, was no issue.
Instantly, they foamed and reformed over Tiamat's palm, absorbing the remains of Benkei’s crushed form. They were instantly absorbed, analyzed, and modified according to Tiamat's new purpose. To survive.
"So, even the copies aren't immune to absorption by Tiamat's power," Benkei's voice was much less deep and clear than he usually allowed himself to sound, as if for a moment the wise monk finally gave way to the tired old traveler who had taken on far more obligations than he could ever imagine.
"I suppose this should have been expected. Pilgrimage of Five Hundred Arhats!"
After another moment, a golden seal appeared behind Benkei's back, then another and another, until dozens and hundreds of seals covered his back, appearing like small bricks to create a golden wall behind him.
Five hundred Arhats – originally, Benkei was a monk, a Buddhist trying to attain Nirvana, before rejecting his asceticism and faithfully following his new master and friend – Ushiwakamaru, Minamoto-no-Yoshitsune. After his resolution, he became a warrior, an advisor, and many branded him a criminal. But the original sprout in his soul, the aspiration for the Buddhist truth, did not completely disappear from his mind.
Benkei did not attain Nirvana nor did he reach the Pure Lands, and neither did he become an Arhat, as he died fighting for what he believed in above all else. And in this, perhaps, he had found his own small Enlightenment.
It was this Enlightenment that Benkei could bestow upon the one who stood against him.
An attempt to give his opponent the opportunity to embark on the great journey themselves, emulating the Arhats to reach Nirvana by sailing across the great sea to Mount Potalaka. The opportunity to look at their entire life and understand whether they had achieved what they should have achieved in their life.
In the event that this happened exactly so, then the battle itself became meaningless, for one who has attained Nirvana has no concern for any battle.
Of course, the probability of such a thing happening was beyond negligible – one could not be forced into Enlightenment, and no Revelation could be granted by force. However, Benkei could forcibly send his target in search of this revelation – by removing their soul from their body, sending them for a moment to a place where there is no time, so that each of them could see each of their past lives. And if the entire examination of it led to nothing more than memories of actions committed, emotions experienced, and thoughts contemplated – they would return, to their new life, to a new rebirth.
The new rebirth, however, meant that their old life had come to an end in any case.
And so the not yet fully formed Black Sea, ones that were about to form into a caricature of Benkei himself, collapsed in lifeless splashes of instantly coagulated black mud. Tiamat's viscous blood continued to flow down in streams, mixing with it – but unable to bring back to life those who had already left it behind.
Seeing her chance, Arthur rushed forward, unbothered by Benkei’s ‘enlightenment’ – no metaphysical tricks and wise lessons interested her at that moment, just as strategies and tactics were meaningless. Arthur's desire was the only one in her mind – to kill the enemy at any cost.
Arthur's blade seemed toy-like relative to Tiamat – but, toy or not, once it plunged into the flesh, it caused a stream of black blood to spew forth. Unceasing like a river, but for Tiamat, the wound seemed more like a drop that emerged after being pricked with a toothpick.
However, the small sting of pain, to which any human was accustomed to, was for Tiamat more an apocalyptic thing – it was a demonstration of her mortality, proof of her fear, the source of her anger.
Tiamat's spilled blood instantly distorted, the dark burgundy liquid turned into a viscous black slime, similar to that which flowed from Tiamat herself, but immeasurably more powerful. Tiamat's Black Sea was nothing more than her thought, the nature of her existence. Her blood on the other hand was Tiamat herself given form.
Tiamat's blood, crashing into Arthur, instantly burned through her armor, then dug into her skin, burning through her flesh, seeking to crawl into Arthur's veins and spread throughout her body like virulent poison. All in order to subjugate the source of pain to Tiamat, as a human wished to subjugate the source of their fear.
If Arthur had possessed her mind and had not given it up in exchange for her strength – the wounds would have only been an unpleasant burn that would not have lasted even a couple of seconds. If Arthur had used her paladin abilities, even Tiamat's blood would have recoiled from her, feeling pain to which it was so unaccustomed. If Arthur's blade had not lost its power, Tiamat's distorting influence would not even have been able to stop Arthur for a second.
If only.
But sadly, all that was left of Arthur could not think of such a thing.
Tiamat's blood made its way into Arthur's flesh, instantly entering into a deadly battle with Arthur’s own flesh – the mother of one world collided with the hero of another. Each tiniest particle of flesh fought with each drop of Tiamat's blood, a war stretched across a trillion soldiers throughout Arthur's body. And Arthur was losing, causing her body to suddenly freeze as it was being taken over by Tiamat.
"REMOVE HER BLOOD IMMEDIATELY!" Gilgamesh's voice was as regal as always, and only one observer out of all could notice that for a moment so short that one could not even speak of it as having happened, fear flashed through Gilgamesh's mind. Something which Tiamat shared with her children, as if unable to keep it with herself.
If Arthur, who lost her mind for the sake of her own power, falls under Tiamat's control and gains access to an infinite source of power and regeneration – then the entire battle is doomed. Any possibility of fighting against Tiamat would be lost.
"So, that's how it is," Benkei's voice was quiet, but it reached Gilgamesh even through the cacophony of pounding blood, "The Eighth Weapon!"
Benkei appeared beside the frozen Arthur, after which his hands touched Arthur's blade, what might have once been Excalibur.
Benkei's hands tightened on the blade and, a moment later, Benkei committed the greatest insult to any warrior on the battlefield.
He took the blade from Arthur's hands.
According to legend, Benkei was a master who carried seven weapons on his back, in each of which he was a master without equal. The legend said that by taking any blade from any hands, he could make it an extension of his arm, showing even its owner the true power of their own blade.
Unlike Lancelot, the object in his hands did not become a Noble Phantasm, rather, Benkei could take any opponent's Noble Phantasm for a moment, making it his own. A branch in his hands would still be a branch, and the legendary Excalibur would remain Excalibur. He didn't grant his weapons any new properties, he merely revealed those which they already possessed.
A moment later, Arthur's hand pierced Benkei’s chest as in Arthur's mind there were no thoughts about Excalibur having lost its powers, no longer being a holy sword in Benkei's hands, or about the plan, or about allies. Arthur simply fought with all her strength, and Benkei had just stolen her weapon.
Which meant that he is an enemy.
However, Benkei had achieved what he desired – for a moment, Arthur's contact with Tiamat was broken, as a wave of anger swept away Tiamat's attempt to infiltrate her mind.
Bursting into bloody giblets, what remains of Benkei’s heart leaked through the wound on his chest. It was a fatal wound, but Benkei fulfilled his duty.
And to die fulfilling one's duty, to die standing sword in hand…
Was that really the worst ending to Benkei’s legend?
Comments
Antonio Ranza
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Abaddon Lucifer
thx
Gazef Stronof
I really like this
