Volunteering

On this soil, Gilgamesh was the undisputed tyrant.

He held no reverence for the gods, and had the power of life and death over his subjects. Seated upon his throne, he arbitrarily judged the fates of the people, casually stripping ministers of their property and lives.

But when it came down to it, Gilgamesh was merely a tyrant, not a foolish one.

He was even less of a mediocre king.

As the ruler of this kingdom, he had never abandoned governance. It was simply that, due to his extreme self-centeredness and willfulness, he often made decisions that seemed utterly absurd to ordinary people, and the methods he used to govern the country were cruel and domineering.

Yet precisely because he was such an egotistical king, Gilgamesh placed even greater importance on the safety of the nation.

The nation belonged to the king.

He could dispose of it as he pleased, but he would never allow outsiders to interfere, nor permit external forces to invade or harm it!

"How dare they trespass on My king's territory? I will make those vermin who dwell in the gutters understand that what the king possesses must never be trampled upon!"

Gilgamesh rose, and under Siduri's gaze, made his decision with great decisiveness.

He would personally go to the western border to resolve the issue there.

But what they failed to notice was that Rovi, who had been sitting carelessly on the steps nearby, had already begun to stir with his own thoughts.

At that same moment, Rovi stood up.

"Wait!" As he rose, he looked toward Gilgamesh and Siduri before the throne, and patted the dust and grime from his linen robe.

"I'll go!" Rovi said. "You are the king. The king must not act lightly."

His reasoning was simple.

Since his plan to make Gilgamesh and the gods kill him had failed, he might as well settle for the next best thing.

He would leave Uruk Royal City.

Head to the dangerous lands on the border.

He knew of the western Monster Forest. It was a place perpetually infested with a vast number of magical beasts—dangerous, terrifying, a major threat to Uruk.

Though heavily guarded to keep ordinary people away, outbreaks of violence there were frequent.

But if Rovi volunteered and carried Gilgamesh's commission, the Uruk soldiers guarding the area would have no way to stop him from approaching.

And then—

He would craft a tragic end for himself. Whether by accident or by being surrounded, it would be enough to be recorded in history and become a legend.

But Siduri naturally couldn't agree. "Priest Rovi, I'm afraid you..."

She wanted to say that Rovi didn't have the strength for it, but her words cut off halfway.

Because around Rovi, several golden ripples suddenly appeared, blades and weapons emerging from them, trailing shimmering light through the air.

The right to use the Treasury of Babylon, granted by Gilgamesh.

Siduri was astonished.

Gilgamesh, on the other hand, burst into laughter again.

"Hmph, hahaha! A mere yapping mongrel, able to wield My treasures so quickly—truly, you've surprised Me a little."

After a moment, he added, "Excellent! Since that's the case, take My treasures and go show those fools the glorious radiance of My greatness!"

"Speak like a normal person!" Rovi rolled his eyes, showing no courtesy.

"I am the one and only king of heaven and earth. My words are naturally the words of a king. How could the petty speech of mortals constrain Me?" Gilgamesh sneered. "As for your disgusting, filth-like yapping—know when to stop!"

Here we go again... Seeing the two bickering like children, Siduri let out a silent sigh.

She suddenly felt that she might have to learn to adapt to this kind of environment in the future.

But seeing how skillfully Rovi wielded the Treasury of Babylon, this young adjutant knew that with the treasures in the treasury alone, he had more than enough qualification to go to war in the king's stead and suppress the beast rebellion.

"I'm not wasting words with you." Rovi glanced outside the palace. The blue sky was nearing dusk, and the setting sun cast its glow over the city, like a reflection of crimson maple leaves covering the mountains.

He shook his head, didn't bother to say goodbye, and stepped down from the stairs, heading out of the palace.

"Hmph!" Gilgamesh let out a disdainful laugh, his vermilion eyes reflecting the tall, resolute figure draped in the linen robe.

"Since you're going to war in place of My great self, even a filthy mongrel should shine with glory—those beasts in the west have been gnawing in the gutters for years. I don't want to see My envoy covered in mud."

"That would hardly do My image any good!"

"Worry about yourself first—you can't even speak properly." Rovi paused in his steps, glanced at him, shook his head, and strode forward without looking back.

He could tell that Gilgamesh was showing concern for him.

Even though he didn't understand why the king would treat him this way, Rovi knew that Gilgamesh had genuinely accepted him.

Though he sought death with all his heart, Rovi was still an ordinary person at his core.

Naturally, he couldn't help but be moved.

Then again—

"A grown man speaking so coyly—how disgusting."

"..."

Siduri listened to the words drifting in from beyond the door and wisely chose to keep her eyes on her nose and her nose on her heart.

"Hahahaha, likewise, likewise!" Gilgamesh laughed unrestrainedly. "Likewise, likewise!"

Never in his life had anyone dared to offend him so brazenly and yet failed to stir genuine anger in his heart.

"One who shares this king's irreverence toward the gods—let this king see whether you possess the right to stand beside this king and become this king's friend!"

The king's voice rumbled low through the Royal Palace Hall. Upon the lofty throne atop the high steps, the radiant, golden-glowing king waved a hand.

Rovi, having stepped outside, paused in his stride. Before his eyes lay the streets of Uruk, growing quiet as dusk settled in. A tree swayed by a doorway; an old yellow dog leaned drowsily against the gate; a traveler returning from afar made his way home; a strong young man conscripted for corvée labor bid his parents farewell.

This dense cluster of earthen and stone buildings, this orderly and well-planned city, this super-large human settlement housing hundreds of thousands—only in a world where gods existed, in this prehistoric human civilization, could such a thing be realized.

Yet this scale was already the limit.

Because the gods did not allow humanity to unify—that would hasten the erosion of the tangible traces of the gods' existence.

In the early days, the gods' presence was, Without a doubt, a help to humanity.

But now, it had gradually become a constraint.

That, however, had nothing to do with him.

At least for now, he had no intention of meddling in such matters. He only wanted to let himself die.

Rovi lifted his gaze and immediately spotted a single bright star falling from the sky.

A meteor... not bad.

He thought to himself.

He hoped his own life could be like that meteor—carve its name into the human order, then vanish in an instant...

Wait.

"If I remember correctly, in the Mythic Age, a meteor signified something descending from the heavens to the mortal world, right?"

"Aside from Ishtar in her Possession State—"

"What else is coming this time?"

Rovi keenly caught the crux of the matter.