Though he did not particularly like the goddess who protected his city-state yet rode her Maanna around the skies every day, what she had said still gave Gilgamesh pause for thought.
Understanding humans—what did that mean?
And what did she mean by understanding beauty?
Could it be that this boring goddess meant...
A faint sharpness appeared in King Gilgamesh's eyes.
The gods' dissatisfaction?
The Anunnaki had countless gods. Only a few powerful gods occupied high positions; most of the rest were craft gods or other lesser deities.
These gods also made up the majority among the divine.
Gilgamesh knew why those disgusting gods were dissatisfied with him.
He had waged wars and stirred up conflicts between city-states, leading to the deaths of the people and a shortage of labor.
And gods relied on human offerings to survive—at least, most Anunnaki gods, those craft gods and the like, relied on this method to live on.
Gilgamesh looked upon such gods with disdain.
Humans were substitutes for the gods, created to replace them in their labor—whenever Gilgamesh thought of this, he could not help but laugh aloud.
Because before humans were born, the gods had labored themselves.
Forget it.
What he needed to consider now was how to deal with those so-called beasts.
But they understood the beauty of humans?
A playful curve appeared at the corner of Gilgamesh's mouth.
Early the next morning, at Uruk's gates.
A scantily clad, graceful woman wearing a veil turned around with some difficulty. Looking at the guard who had escorted her out, fear filled her eyes, and her hands trembled slightly.
The guard clearly saw her reaction, but his expression was equally helpless.
"...Go on, Lady Sacred Courtesan."
The guard took a step back and said to the woman, "This is the king's order. Neither