The final words fell, ringing like a struck bell.
That was enough.
Rovi closed his eyes, ready to welcome death. He believed himself doomed beyond doubt.
After all, such humiliation would have been intolerable for any king.
Let alone Gilgamesh.
But Gilgamesh stood frozen in place. Beyond the fury in his eyes, there was also a trace of inexplicable contemplation.
Without question, in that instant just now, he had indeed fallen into extreme rage.
As a king so proud and arrogant, this was the first time in his life that someone had pointed at his nose and cursed him to his face—though such insults could not truly shake Gilgamesh's heart, they still made him feel utterly humiliated.
Especially that word, "trash," being used on him.
And yet—
"A king should be chosen by all people."
Those words, shouted amid Rovi's "indignation," made Gilgamesh, who should have flown into a rage, stop short.
Gilgamesh loathed the gods.
Because he carried divine blood, he was the king of mankind chosen by the gods, the "Wedge of Heaven" that gods and men believed maintained the connection between them.
At first, the young Gilgamesh might not have understood any of this clearly.
But after growing up, he naturally came to feel intensely irritated by the gods who had always hoped to control him.
He did not wish to be bound or controlled.
Nor did he wish for his life to be a puppet following a predetermined path.
Thus, he acted recklessly and willfully, refusing to become the wise king the gods had expected.
He became a tyrant.
All of his actions, in the end, stemmed from his hatred of the gods.
Yet precisely because of that, he approved of Rovi's words.
He should have been the king of mankind.
He should have been chosen by all people.
Not a puppet selected by the gods!
This fellow...
Perhaps, like him, Rovi despised and disdained those gods lofty above all else!
He spoke to him from humanity's perspective.
The king watched Rovi, who stood before him with his eyes closed, awaiting death.
The temple was silent. Everyone was prostrated on the ground, but with Gilgamesh's perception, how could he fail to see it... Because of this young priest's words, some people were already beginning to stir.
The priests, especially the elder priests—they all wanted to save Rovi, who had spoken those words.
Because of the unwavering determination in his plea for all people.
It was what they wished to say but did not dare to voice.
"Interesting..."
Gilgamesh laughed.
Rovi, who had been awaiting death with his eyes closed, had not received the death he expected even after so long. Puzzled, he opened his eyes.
Then he met Gilgamesh's upturned lips and the serpent-like shadow reflected in those crimson eyes.
They were no longer cold. Instead, they held undisguised appreciation.
"Though your cries are as irritating and hateful as the mad barking of a stray dog in the countryside, as disgusting as maggots gnawing at mud—"
"I have indeed felt the loyalty you displayed while embracing your certainty of death."
His words were still unpleasant to hear, but the approval within them was not concealed in the slightest.
The priests breathed sighs of relief.
Only Rovi stood there with a blank expression, having no idea what had happened.
What happened?
Who am I?
Where am I?
Wait... Weren't you supposed to kill me? As an utterly self-centered tyrant, why were you so calm when faced with a retainer who had angered you!?
This didn't fit your character at all—
But no matter how confused Rovi was, no matter how loudly he screamed in his heart, it was useless.
"I acknowledge your loyalty and forgive your offense against my great and noble self."
Gilgamesh waved a hand and turned away. "Go back and weep with gratitude for my magnanimity!"
"That is enough for today. I am tired, so I will return and rest first!"
Leaving those words behind, Gilgamesh strode toward the great doors.
Ordinarily, before the ritual had ended, many people would surely have stepped forth to stop him. Even his mother high above the heavens would have conveyed a divine decree through the ritual.
But at this very moment—whether human or god, all were seemingly still stunned by what had just happened.
So no one tried to stop Gilgamesh.
No need to recite those disgusting prayers. No need to wait here for ages and watch all his treasures be wasted for nothing by those scraps in the heavens.
Thinking about it, Gilgamesh suddenly felt that Rovi had done quite well.
The anger from being harshly cursed just now had long since vanished without a trace.
As thanks for helping such a noble king—once he returned, he had to reward that fellow properly.
Gilgamesh left in high spirits.
Leaving behind only the utterly stunned Rovi.
And the many priests who had breathed sighs of relief.
"Thank goodness... The king is still wise enough to understand your intentions, Priest Rovi."
An elderly priest rose shakily and gathered around him.
They did not blame Rovi in the slightest for interrupting the ritual. Instead, they rejoiced that he had kept his life.
"Rovi, why did you do something like this without telling us in advance?"
The High Priest also said, "It would have been better for everyone to speak together than for you to bear the pressure alone!"
To be honest, Rovi was somewhat moved. He knew these old men truly treated him well... but he also found it both funny and exasperating.
What intentions could I possibly have?
I just wanted to die!
But it seemed that his plan to use this opportunity to have Gilgamesh kill him had completely fallen through.
Rovi sighed.
"Little Rovi, why do you look so troubled?"
Seeing him like this, another priest could not help asking, "Could it be... you are worried that the gods will blame you for interrupting the ritual?"
At those words, Rovi's eyes suddenly lit up.
There truly were gods in this world.
If the gods became angry because his actions had prevented them from enjoying Uruk's offerings... then he could still die!
While everyone else worried anxiously, hope rose once more in Rovi's heart.
Just then, someone shouted, "Look! It is the will of the gods!"
Everyone looked up and saw radiance descending through the opening at the top of the vaulted ceiling, directly before the statue of Anu, king of the gods.
It was the light of the gods.
Though the gods could not descend into the mortal world in their true forms, they could still convey their will.
Rovi was delighted. In his view, this divine decree was surely meant to condemn him to death.
The Mesopotamian Plain had no shortage of petty gods.
But he soon could not laugh anymore.
"Priest Rovi, you pointed out the errors of a king who had strayed from the proper path and made him accept your loyal counsel. Though you showed disrespect toward the ritual of the gods, your fearlessness in the face of death has earned the gods' admiration."
"The gods forgive your disrespect and grant this promise—everything you do in the mortal world shall be permitted by the gods."
The priests cheered, praising the king's wisdom and the gods' magnanimity.
Only Rovi's expression froze.
*...*
He only wanted to ask why!
He merely wanted to die. Why was it so hard?
Before you continue