Gilgamesh's anger was plain for all to see.
Using his [Clairvoyance]—the power to gaze into the future—he had, at this very moment, seen Enkidu.
But in fact, Gilgamesh had been searching for clues to Rovi's whereabouts in the days ahead, using that very ability.
After all, Rovi had vanished for seven days now.
Seven days ago, he'd disappeared into the Monster Forest to suppress the beast uprising, and despite every search party sent after him, there had been no sign since.
Although this guy had openly defied him, Rovi was still his retainer. In Gilgamesh's eyes, no one but himself had the right to judge him.
So now, he had to find out where Rovi had gone.
If he was alive, bring him back.
If he was dead, then those who dared lay a hand on the king's retainer would face royal judgment.
But now, Gilgamesh hadn't found Rovi.
Instead, at the very place Rovi vanished, he'd found a messenger sent by the gods themselves.
What Gilgamesh didn't know was that for these past seven days, that "messenger" had been under Rovi's guidance.
Nor did he know that Rovi had become the "Key of Heaven"—an existence on the same level as, or perhaps even more unique than, the others—making him impossible to find, even with [Clairvoyance], at such a distance.
If Enkidu hadn't recently awakened to the power of the "Chains of Heaven," even he might have remained hidden from Gilgamesh's sight.
[Clairvoyance] wasn't truly omniscience; not being able to perceive those of equivalent rank was only natural.
Even though Rovi had continued to use the [Gate of Babylon] given to him, he'd only used it as a tool for travel, never actually drawing upon its treasures.
So Gilgamesh remained unaware.
With his antipathy toward the gods, he never considered any of this. His first thought was that the gods had finally dealt with Rovi—the one who'd interrupted the Great Ritual—punishing him for his "blasphemy."
They'd erased him, wiped his existence from this world.
Now, even the future could not reveal him.
In that case—
The king's wrath would blaze forth.
---
Western Uruk.
On the outer edge of the Monster Forest, the blue sky hung like a vast curtain over the empty plains, the dense forest rimmed with walls and ever-watchful guards.
Since Rovi had ventured deep into the woods, the beasts had caused no more trouble.
But the duty of a border guard was to prevent disaster before it began.
So, for these seven days, apart from sending men into the forest to look for Rovi, all defenses remained at full alert—if anything, stricter than ever.
At that moment, a soldier on the wall seemed to sense something, suddenly lifting his head.
He saw… a star-chariot.
Green wings, golden main body.
A relic of the Age of the Gods, powered by a core of immense magical energy, streaking across the sky.
It was unmistakable.
In Uruk, no one could fail to recognize the king's favored chariot—his star vessel.
And its appearance could only mean one thing…
"The king!?" The guard called out in shock, but before he could react further, the star-chariot streaked across the sky in a burning arc and plunged deep into the forest, vanishing from view.
The commotion the star-chariot caused among the border guards could wait.
At that very moment, Gilgamesh himself sat upon a throne of blazing gold, his fingers drumming the armrest. In both dress and expression, he was not as he usually appeared.
His golden hair, normally falling loose, was now swept back, his brow reflecting a sharpened kingly aura.
He wore golden armor—thick, brilliant, godlike.
This was Gilgamesh's battle attire.
It was the garb he donned to render judgment as king upon those who dared provoke him.
Fingers drumming, the king's star-chariot roared through the forest, finally coming to a halt, suspended high above the trees.
He had arrived.
This was the place he had "seen."
And so—
"To think you could stand in the presence of this glorious king and still believe you could hide in the filth like a rat—are you one of those wretches sent by the decrepit gods?" The king's cold voice thundered down from above. "Come out, mongrel!"
---
Deep in the forest, "someone" heard the call and looked up, emerald eyes filled with confusion.
Hadn't Rovi gone to fetch water? Why hadn't he come back yet…?
What was that?
From beneath a curtain of green hair, those eyes widened.
The "person" in the forest spotted the gold-and-green brilliance hovering overhead—a sight never before seen, and was left dazed.
Enkidu wondered.
"Finally showing yourself, are you? You gutter-born mongrel." Gilgamesh had spotted them as well.
Draped in a loose, white priest's robe, green hair flowing, a slender and strikingly beautiful "girl."
He took in the figure, sensed the divine energy, and saw that the robe belonged to Rovi.
In that instant, Gilgamesh's killing intent blazed even brighter.
Crimson slitted eyes went cold as ancient stone—like the unmelting ice of the underworld.
A serpent's tongue tasted the king's wrath.
Faced with such undisguised malice, Enkidu frowned, delicate brows creasing.
After seven days, they were no longer the innocent blank slate they had been.
In self-awareness and intelligence, they were now the equal of any human.
They didn't know who this was, or what he wanted.
But Enkidu understood one thing:
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
If attacked, Enkidu would—just as Rovi had taught—strike back even harder!
Though the power this stranger wielded felt similar to Rovi's,
He was not as close, not as warm.
So Enkidu felt no hesitation.
"Not only do you refuse to surrender, you'd even defy the king's judgment," Gilgamesh slowly rose from his throne, "Then, prepare to bear the punishment for angering me—your king."
Golden light shimmered, rippling outward.
The [Gate of Babylon] opened, and a shining, razor-sharp divine sword fell into Gilgamesh's hand.
He gripped it tightly—one of the rarest treasures in his collection.
The white robe billowed, Enkidu stood silently among the trees, shadows flowing over their form like waves, lifting dust into the air.
Though neither had yet moved, the vast magical energy rolling off each of them collided in an instant—like two floods clashing together.
The ground of the ancient forest trembled; the nearby river quivered with ripples.
At the water's edge, Rovi stared at the spreading rings in the river, startled.
He stood, glanced over his shoulder, and spotted the scene from miles away.
Gilgamesh is here?
His heart leapt.
Gilgamesh had come.
And he'd already found Enkidu.
They—were fighting!
With a clatter, as if he'd been expecting this all along, Rovi dropped his clay water bowl and sprinted toward the battlefield.
---
T/N: QUICK! DIE!