The golden key materialized in his hand with a soft chime, familiar in weight, regal in presence. From the swirling shimmer of light that followed, he drew a blade—crimson and cylindrical, humming with an energy sharp enough to slice through reality itself.
The Sword of Rupture—Ea.
It wasn't just another relic from the Gate of Babylon. This weapon stood apart, a singular anomaly that defied all logic. A blade born before even the concept of cutting was known to the world. Something ancient. Something divine.
His body had long transcended mortality. The waters of immortality had soaked into every cell, shielding him from time, space, and steel alike.
One last glance at the horizon.
Then came the scarlet flash.
The ground split open. The sky cracked apart.
"Enuma Elish."
—
Rome, Italy — the stronghold of the Bronze Black Cross.
Time hadn't dulled its majesty.
It towered over the ancient city like a monument to power, its weathered stone brimming with old magic and older memories. Generations of mages had walked these halls. Battles had been fought here, alliances forged and broken. Bounded fields hummed quietly beneath layers of reinforcement, but nothing could bury the weight of history etched into every block.
Tonight, the tension was heavy.
Crystal chandeliers cast fractured light across pristine marble floors. Tapestries fluttered along the walls, their threads laced with enchantments from another era.
But none of that held meaning now.
Not with her at the center.
Silver hair, sharp and cold. Eyes like blue ice—cutting, precise. Her saber hung at her side, sheathed but heavy with presence. It was a masterwork, forged in the heart of the Clock Tower itself.
Liliana Kranjcar.
A knight in title. A Valkyrie in soul.
Yet even she faltered, for just a moment—her fingers twitching before curling into fists.
A slow breath. Controlled.
This was it. Her greatest gamble.
One mistake, one poorly chosen word, and the delicate alliance she was here to negotiate would shatter into dust.
She stepped forward.
At the end of the hall stood an ornate door, carved with legends—heroes battling monsters in a frozen struggle. She pushed it open.
—
The King's Chambers.
Opulence didn't just describe it—it dripped from the walls.
Renaissance masterpieces lined every surface, still vibrant under centuries of preservation magic. Ancient relics rested in glass cases, pulsing faintly with stored mana. Even the sofa was upholstered in the hide of some long-dead Phantasmal Beast.
And upon it lounged the King.
Gilgamesh.
The King of Heroes.
A golden goblet dangled between his fingers, filled with wine darker than blood. His gaze slid toward her, not indifferent, but calculating. Measuring.
Liliana bowed, steady and composed despite the storm raging in her chest.
"Your Majesty. I trust your accommodations have been… satisfactory?"
Silence.
Only the sound of wine swirling in a cup.
Then:
"For one not of my kingdom, this hospitality exceeds what is deserved." His voice was soft steel—velvet laced with threat.
Liliana didn't breathe.
Gilgamesh tilted his head slightly, regal and lazy. "Speak, girl. What boon do you seek from your king?"
A test.
She felt it.
The words she chose now would decide everything.
She dropped to one knee.
"I have a request."
His gaze burned into her, unseen but undeniable.
"This king rewards loyalty." A pause. Measured. "State your desire."
Her jaw tightened.
Then—calmly, clearly:
"Let the Bronze Black Cross swear fealty to you. Allow us to serve as your vassals."
Silence.
A second. Then another.
Gilgamesh's lips curled. Not a smile—something sharper.
"To seek my protection… cloaked in allegiance." His wine shimmered like molten rubies. "A clever move."
She didn't flinch. Didn't blink.
Then:
"Very well."
The words landed like thunder.
"Rise, Liliana Kranjcar."
Her heart stopped. He knew her name.
Gilgamesh leaned forward, golden eyes locking with hers.
"Prove your worth—and your kingdom shall endure."
***
Support and read advance chapters on patreon.com/IzzyTL