The King Is Chosen by the People

This was an unforeseen turn of events—one that no one but the long-prepared Rovi could have anticipated.

Though the temple had also fallen into silence because of this sudden incident, anyone could sense it...

The King's fury was brewing.

This was inevitable.

After Gilgamesh became King—no, more accurately, ever since he was born—no one had ever dared to rebuke or insult him to his face like this.

Not even his parents, the former King of Uruk and the All-knowing Goddess, had ever treated him this way.

"Your Majesty, this is an accident..."

The old priest stepped forward, his body trembling.

Though his mind had gone blank in an instant and he could not understand why the seemingly respectful Rovi had done such a thing, the old man was still the High Priest. He felt that he had a duty to quell the King's anger.

Or perhaps... Rovi really had misread the clay tablet.

Even now, he was still defending Rovi in his heart.

But Gilgamesh merely glanced at him. Those scarlet, serpentine eyes were as cold as ice buried deep beneath the underworld, and the chill they projected instantly robbed the old man of his voice.

"Did this King permit you to speak, mong—"

It was a word he used constantly, yet when he thought of the words on the clay tablet in his hand, Gilgamesh found himself unable to say it.

His expression darkened further.

But the intimidation was unmistakable.

Under those crimson eyes, no one dared speak again. Almost instantly, every priest, servant, and guard fell to their knees.

Gilgamesh was a demigod King, and his anger naturally carried an immense pressure,

Making everyone tremble involuntarily.

Everyone except Rovi—after all, he had emerged from the Root. Though that power was now sealed within the Throne of Heroes, he had at least wielded it once. Gilgamesh's little threat did not concern him in the slightest.

Rovi was delighted.

The angrier Gilgamesh became, the happier he was.

Thus, what he showed was a mocking, sardonic smile.

Gilgamesh's gaze grew colder.

"You lowly mongrel... Have you considered the consequences of provoking this great and radiant King? You wretched creature, as low as a maggot!" he said icily, while his subjects lay prostrate all around him.

The Crimson Circuit engraved upon his body emerged, shining brilliantly.

It was a sign that divine power was being invoked.

Compared to mortals,

It was immense and incomparable might—the power of divine bloodlines manifested from nature itself.

"Who is not lowly?"

Rovi responded. Faced with Gilgamesh's ever-growing rage, he was not alarmed but delighted. "Greatness is relative, while insignificance is eternal. Perhaps I am weak compared to you, but compared to the gods, and the gods compared to the universe, who can remain powerful forever?"

"But at least I understand that, while you do not—"

"O Great King." Rovi's smile became even brighter and more dazzling, yet to Gilgamesh, it was unbearably glaring.

"Do you only dare point your weapons at your own subjects? Do you only dare use your so-called royal authority and power to oppress the officials who respectfully obey you?"

Rovi had prepared his words long ago. Of course he would not be rendered speechless at such a critical moment.

He spoke with righteous conviction:

"Do you know what a King is?"

"A King should be one who protects his people. A King should be one who shelters the land under his rule.

But what have you done?

You call yourself King, yet you only know how to bully your subordinates and oppress unarmed civilians. Cruel, tyrannical, measuring everything in the world by your own standards, heedless of whether your subjects are rich or poor, wantonly trampling upon the dignity of the people under your rule."

"You treat the nation as your private property, to be manipulated at will. You treat the people as toys, to be dealt with according to your whims."

"Are you worthy of being King?"

"Gilgamesh... you are nothing but trash!"

His words were full of fervor and emotion.

Rovi's handsome face seemed slightly flushed with agitation.

Gilgamesh's expression went from cold to calm.

To speak the King's name directly in Uruk was the height of treason.

Yet Gilgamesh did not curse him or fly into a rage. It was as though he had suddenly calmed down, but almost everyone knew... this Gilgamesh was the true precursor to fury.

He had always been the one to call others trash.

Yet today, the tables had been turned.

And yet, for some reason, Rovi's words resonated deeply with the prostrate subjects around them.

The unrestrained Gilgamesh truly was as Rovi described him.

A cruel, tyrannical, temperamental ruler, he disdained those above him and oppressed those below him, making the people of Uruk suffer beyond endurance.

Everyone in Uruk knew this.

It was simply that no one had ever dared raise it in Gilgamesh's presence, much less use it to condemn him.

No one but Rovi.

Rovi, here and now!

He was pleading for the people of Uruk with his life. He was using his life to point out the King's errors—

The crowd suddenly understood.

At the same time, the old priest burst into tears.

He had not misjudged him!

Compared to himself, who only wished to preserve Uruk for as long as possible, Rovi's approach was more direct and more intense.

He loved this nation more than the old priest, more than anyone else.

"Are you finished?"

His voice was cold and hard. The King who ruled Uruk appeared indifferent, and amid the echoing sound, only the Crimson Circuit upon him—the power that represented the gods—shone even more brilliantly.

Having committed the grave crime of angering the King, this treasonous man would now receive severe punishment!

An ordinary person might have been afraid, but Rovi could not have wished for more.

He even feared that the punishment would be too light and fail to kill him.

So he continued to add fuel to the fire.

"Finished? Of course I'm not finished!"

"Gilgamesh, do you think that because you are a King chosen by heaven, you can act without restraint? Do you think you can use the strength of a demigod to oppress the weak?"

"No, you cannot."

"No one can!"

"Uruk is a city-state built by humans. It is the homeland we built from nothing, packing earth, mud, and stone together with our own hands."

"This is our homeland, our nation."

"Our King should be decided by all the people."

"You—"

"Are unworthy!"

Crack, crack, crack... The clay tablet still clenched in Gilgamesh's hand finally swelled and shattered after more and larger cracks appeared across it, becoming countless jagged fragments that fell onto the floor of the temple.

Rovi felt a little regretful that he had failed to preserve physical proof of his performance.

But it was enough.

As Human History's first remonstrance unto death, Rovi believed that he would surely be recorded in the annals.

And next...

"Though I stand alone, you may kill me if you wish. But I believe that after my death, the people will not stand still."

"In the future, there will surely be those who rise up against your brutality."

Rovi would leave behind these words as his final, decisive statement, to be sung of by future generations.

He would earn himself a magnificent death!