"Since my subject chose to come to Uruk and seek an audience with me, should I not show my subject the height of my glory?"
"Besides, if you have never witnessed me at the height of my glory, how could you become a subject capable of fighting at my side?"
"Come. Follow me."
Gilgamesh descended from his throne and walked ahead of the others.
They exchanged glances, then followed behind their king.
Uruk had already been mostly destroyed. Fortunately, the palace steps remained intact, leading up to the platform that had been smashed apart halfway.
Standing at the platform's edge, the king and his subjects looked down upon Uruk's shattered ruins. The subjects wore expressions of sorrow, while the king remained calm and composed.
"Your Majesty, what will become of Uruk from here on?"
Mash asked softly, unable to bear the sight.
"I have already said it."
King Gilgamesh folded his arms, neither confirming nor denying anything.
"Uruk will not perish."
"As long as I have not died, Uruk will not perish. And even if I die in the war against Tiamat, Uruk still will not perish."
"The light of human civilization will continue to stand. Those who inherit it will continue to make Sumer flourish."
"...Is that so?"
Mash still looked heartbroken.
Fujimaru Ritsuka raised his head to look at the newborn sun on the horizon, then glanced at his palm.
What he held was the flower Merlin had given him before leaving.
Merlin had said that Ritsuka could do with it as he pleased.
Fujimaru Ritsuka pressed his lips together and bit the tip of his tongue.
He walked in front of Mash, bent down, and placed that flower upon the highest point of the ruined Uruk.
It was a memorial.
Gilgamesh sighed.
"How arrogant, Fujimaru Ritsuka."
Though