The King's Acknowledged Loyalty, The God's Approved Counsel

The final words fell, resounding with weight.

That was enough.

Rovi closed his eyes, ready to meet death, fully convinced he was doomed.

After all, such humiliation was unbearable for any king.

Let alone Gilgamesh.

But Gilgamesh stood frozen in place, his fury now mingled with a hint of contemplative thought.

Without a doubt, in that instant, he had indeed been plunged into extreme rage.

As a proud and arrogant king, this was the first time someone had pointed a finger at his nose and cursed him to his face—though such insults could never truly shake Gilgamesh's heart, they still brought him unparalleled shame.

Especially that word 'mongrel' used against himself.

Yet—

"A king should be chosen by the people."

That cry, shouted by Rovi in his 'indignation,' made Gilgamesh, who should have been consumed by fury, pause.

Gilgamesh loathed the gods.

He bore divine blood in his veins; he was the king of the human world chosen by the gods, the 'Wedge of Heaven' that gods and men believed maintained the bond between them.

In his earliest, youngest days, Gilgamesh might not have had a clear understanding of this.

But as he grew older, he naturally came to feel extreme disgust toward the gods who had always hoped to control him.

He refused to be bound, to be controlled.

He did not want his life to be a puppet's path laid out by others.

So he acted willfully, refusing to be the wise king the gods expected.

He became a tyrant.

All his actions, in the end, stemmed from his hatred of the gods.

Yet precisely because of this, he acknowledged Rovi's words.

He should be the king of the human world.

Chosen by the people.

Not a puppet selected by the gods!

This fellow...

Perhaps like himself, he loathed and scorned those lofty gods!

He was speaking to him from the perspective of a human.

The king looked at Rovi before him, eyes closed, awaiting death.

In the silent temple, everyone prostrated themselves, but with Gilgamesh's keen eyesight, how could he not see... that because of this young priest's words, some were already stirring.

The priests, especially the elder one—they all wanted to save Rovi, who had spoken those words.

Because of the resolute determination in those words to plead for the people.

That was what they wanted, but dared not express.

"Interesting..."

Gilgamesh laughed.

Rovi, who had been waiting for death with closed eyes, opened them in confusion, puzzled that the death he expected had not come for so long.

Then he met Gilgamesh's upturned lips and the serpent-like shadow reflected in those crimson eyes.

No longer cold, but carrying undisguised approval.

"Though your howling is as vexing and loathsome as a wild dog's bark in the countryside, as disgusting as a bug gnawing at the dirt—yet—"

"The loyalty you showed with the conviction to face death, this king has indeed felt."

The words were still harsh, but the recognition in them was undisguised.

The priests breathed a sigh of relief.

Only Rovi was completely bewildered, having no idea what was happening.

What happened?

Who am I?

Where is this?

Wait... aren't you supposed to kill me? As an extremely self-centered tyrant, facing a subject who has angered you, how can you be so calm!?

This doesn't fit your character—

But no matter how lost and confused Rovi was, no matter how much he screamed in his heart, it was all in vain.

"This king acknowledges your loyalty and forgives your offense against the great and noble king."

Gilgamesh waved a hand and turned away. "Go back and weep tears of gratitude, grateful for this king's magnanimity!"

"Today's matter ends here. This king is tired and shall return to rest first!"

Leaving behind these words, Gilgamesh strode toward the gate.

On an ordinary day, when the ritual had not yet concluded, such an action would have drawn a crowd of people to stop him—even his mother, high in the heavens, would have sent down an oracle through the priests.

But at this moment—it seemed that neither man nor god had yet recovered from the sudden turn of events.

So no one stopped Gilgamesh.

No need to recite those nauseating prayers, no need to wait around here half the day watching all his treasures be squandered by those bastards in the sky.

Thinking this way, Gilgamesh suddenly felt that Rovi had done quite well.

The anger from being cursed out moments ago had long since dissipated.

As a reward for helping this noble king—once he returned, he would have to properly reward that fellow.

Gilgamesh walked away in high spirits.

Leaving behind only Rovi, his face frozen in shock.

And many priests, breathing sighs of relief.

"Thank goodness... the king is still wise, knowing your intentions, Priest Rovi."

An elderly priest hobbled over, gathering around.

They bore no grudge whatsoever against Rovi for interrupting the ritual; instead, they were relieved that Rovi had saved his own life.

"Rovi, why didn't you discuss something like this with us beforehand?"

The High Priest also spoke: "If we all spoke together, it would be better than you bearing the pressure alone!"

To be honest, Rovi was a little moved—he knew these old men truly meant well for him... but he also found it both ridiculous and frustrating.

What intentions do I have?

I just wanted to die!

But it seemed that the plan to use this opportunity to have Gilgamesh kill him had completely failed.

Rovi sighed.

"Little Rovi, why do you look so troubled?"

Seeing him like this, another priest couldn't help asking: "Could it be... you're worried that by interrupting the ritual, you've angered the gods?"

At this, Rovi's eyes suddenly lit up.

This world really did have gods.

If the gods were angry because his actions had prevented them from enjoying Uruk's offerings... then he could still die!

While others were filled with worry, hope rekindled in Rovi's heart.

Just then, someone shouted: "Look, it's a divine decree!"

Everyone looked up and saw that above the hollow ceiling, directly facing the statue of the god-king Anu, a beam of radiance was descending.

It was the light of the gods.

Though the gods could not descend in person to the mortal realm, they could still convey their will.

Rovi was overjoyed. In his view, this divine decree would surely be a command for him to die.

The Mesopotamian Plain was not lacking in petty gods.

But soon, he couldn't smile anymore.

"Priest Rovi, you pointed out the errors of the king who had strayed from the path, and the king accepted your loyal counsel. Though you showed disrespect to the rites of the gods, your fearless defiance has earned the gods' admiration."

"The gods forgive your disrespect and grant this promise—your actions in the mortal realm shall henceforth be permitted by all the gods."

The priests cheered, praising the king's wisdom and the gods' magnanimity.

Only Rovi's expression froze.

'...'

He just wanted to say—why?!

He only wanted to die—why was it so hard?