Uruk, within the royal palace.
It was already deep into the night, yet candlelight still remained in the palace's front hall—the last candlelight in this city.
Gilgamesh had used dust to draw a simple map before him and was staring at it without blinking.
"Gil, it's late." Enkidu looked at Gil's clearly bloodshot eyes and sighed. "Even if divine blood flows through your body, your stamina cannot withstand such depletion."
Siduri had not left either. Her eyes glimmered in the darkness, filled with the same concern.
"Enkidu, I have a bad feeling."
Gil did not answer Enkidu's words. Instead, he said this.
"Umu Dabrutu has already been slain. The locations of Uridimmu, Mushhushu, and Ugal have all been identified, yet I... still have an extremely bad feeling."
His eyes remained fixed on the crude map before him.
Everything now was developing in a favorable direction.
Heroes from every era, for all manner of reasons, were converging on Uruk, this steadfast and great city, fighting for it, for this age, and for this world. The locations of Tiamat's tentacles had been identified one by one, and some had even been severed, yet Gilgamesh—
Instead, grew uneasy.
There was some kind of feeling, one that made his hair stand on end.
"Did you see something? Or was it the Tablet of Destinies?" Enkidu frowned.
Gilgamesh's eyes were eyes that could see through the future. Enkidu would not have found it strange if he had seen something in advance and thus developed a sense of crisis.
Even if he had seen nothing, Gilgamesh, as the Wedge of Heaven, would never develop such a feeling for no reason.
Still, merely staring at a map would not truly bring any substantial breakthrough.
"Forget it. Go get some rest. I too shall rest."
In the end,