"—Be gentle sometimes, huh? (Browsing Pleasure Net)"
…
"Hmph. Members spout nonsense. Fine. No Saber yet. A trial run with that mistaken one, then."
Wise choice, Hero King.
I'll embrace you someday.
"Joy!!"
A sword swung. He dodged slightly.
"Elation!!"
Another swing. He stepped back.
"My gratitude for your oppressor's existence—!"
The sword struck again—!
"Golden Oppressor—!! Now—"
The blade arced upward!
"Receive my love—!!!"
Why love?!
"Hmph. No wonder Nero struggles. Our pawns—a vengeful lump or rebellious muscle—won't do," Gilgamesh muttered, exasperated.
"Love, love, LOVE!! You, apex of oppressors, king of kings!! Take my joy, my vigor—!!"
"Gil!!" Ritsuka cried.
"Oh no… Is that guy a super famous king?" Boudica asked.
"Y-Yes! He's Gilgamesh, the oldest Hero King!" Mash confirmed.
"Yup, no way Spartacus wouldn't rebel," Boudica sighed.
"Don't just accept it—stop him! Infighting's no joke; mutual defeat ruins Rome!" Romani urged.
"Right! Gil, backup—"
"Unneeded," Gilgamesh dismissed, parrying blade and zeal.
"No need to approach this mad dog. One bite could kill."
He's focused on me. No need to risk them.
"They're in danger! You okay?!" Ritsuka shouted.
"Ha! Only mud threatens me. Same as ever. Sip wine and watch," Gilgamesh replied.
The foe's a Berserker—mindless, all-in assault. That smile's terrifying, but manageable.
"Oppressor! See my force! Arrogance falls, pride crumbles, the arena echoes with equal roars!" Spartacus bellowed.
Each swing shook the earth, split the air—an absolute blow.
One hit would shatter me. Time to select treasures.
"You've a good eye, naming me the apex. This Spirit Origin is a true tyrant, not a childish incarnation," Gilgamesh said.
"Indeed! My eyes, my love, see true! Break, fall, sleep in my embrace—!!"
A ground-shattering strike. Gilgamesh dodged minimally.
Select swords, spears, halberds. Five gates, minimal collateral.
Ready. Fire and counter.
"Hahahaha!! My love, offered to the oppressor—!!"
"—"
As he prepared to unleash, a doubt crossed his soul.
Should I strike him down?
"Gil?!" Ritsuka yelled, seeing him hesitate.
"Danger—!!" Mash warned.
"Spartacus! Stop—!!" Boudica pleaded.
A king would execute. That's certain.
But that's the Hero King's call, not his soul's. A premonition stirred.
Spartacus, a hero of legitimate Rome, wasn't an enemy of humanity just for pointing a sword. He was a blade for justice, a comrade like those in France. Terrifying, but an ally.
Rome was losing. Every means was needed to reverse it—including him.
Like in France, all forces must unite to reclaim the era.
Above all, a different soul wielding the king's judgment was wrong. It'd be reveling in the vessel's power, abandoning thought, defiling the king's glory.
If the king's verdict didn't need him, he'd be unnecessary to this vessel.
That's meaningless. This journey hones me too.
Clinging to the king's glory negates my reincarnation.
No weapons were needed to escape this.
What was needed—!
"Oppressor!!!" Spartacus' sword descended.
"Nooo!!" Ritsuka screamed.
"Hero King—!!" Mash gasped.
"Why, oppressor?" Spartacus halted, inches away.
"Why not strike? Why no weapons? Do you stain me with the dishonor of slaying an unarmed foe?"
No weapons drawn. No counterattack.
He faced Spartacus with vessel and soul alone.
"Stain you? Obviously not. You're not yet worthy of my strike," Gilgamesh declared.
"Huh?"
"You said it yourself—'the apex of oppressors.' Indeed. I'm the tyrant who crushes, harms, reigns supreme."
"Then—"
"Fool. Naming me apex yet challenging me while other oppressors remain? Utterly misguided."
"—"
Spartacus froze.
You can't accept me. Fine.
But our fight isn't now. Many oppressors threaten Rome's true history.
Join us to defeat them. Save your blade for later.
"If you want my head, earn it. Prove you're a rebel worthy of my hand—by crushing every oppressor in this era."
"Nuu…"
"Fulfill that duty, and I'll forgive your insolence. Lower your sword. It's not me you should aim at, muscle lump."
Please understand.
You're a rebel hero.
Then you're a hero defying the tyranny of ruin.
"—Reason."
The sword lowered.
"Reason indeed. You're the apex oppressor, the loftiest king awaiting in the arena's depths."
"Umu."
"Then I must overcome countless trials—men, lions, blades—to claim my proof."
"Naturally. My sight permits no third-rates."
"Your will is received, Golden Oppressor. I'll crush this world's tyrants, prove myself, and face you again. Look forward to it—my trembling joy, my love—!"
"Umu."
"—will embrace you! Believing in that moment, I'll amass my love for you!!"
"Fool! Only those I deem worthy can love me! Keep your futile indulgence!!"
"Yes, yes! Gratitude to you, my lifetime's greatest oppressor!!"
"Hahahahaha!!"
"Hahahahaha!!"
"—Spartacus lowered his blade for a king…" Boudica gaped.
"Phew! Gil's safe!!" Ritsuka cheered, face a mess.
"Senpai, your face!" Mash exclaimed.
"Unreal… He convinced Spartacus without a weapon?! What charisma?!" Romani marveled.
"What… dazzling brilliance…" Nero swooned.
The king's commanding words subdued Spartacus.
He deemed Gilgamesh "interesting, worth keeping alive last," agreeing to fight together until the era's restored.
I'll sleep on Vimana in Gaul. Can't relax near that smile.
Only the Hero King could pull this off. Thank you.
No more muscles for a while.
Love's scary…
"Ow?!"
"Who litters like this?! I'll report to the Trash Pickup Alliance! Hitting me, who dodges meteors, is impressive."
'Inauguration gift—From Anonymous King'
"?"
'To the Mistaken One'
"…?"
Rustle
'Lapis Lazuli Bracelet'
'Roman Apple'
"—"
'Stay out of my sight.'
"What's this? Switching from final boss to cool guest star?"
"That self-centered attitude's why no one looks your way, Hero King."
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