During this period, Rovi rarely left his home.
Yet he knew that although the scenery of Uruk remained unchanged, many other things had subtly shifted.
Since that fateful day when Gilgamesh, Rovi, and Enkidu made their decision within that modest room and began taking concrete steps, the outcome of their discussions inevitably shaped Uruk's future direction.
Those who lived in Uruk could sense the shift most clearly.
Each morning, as people began their daily tasks, stepping outside their homes, they noticed more soldiers on the city walls—and fewer people in the streets.
The increase in soldiers was obvious.
But what had decreased were merchants, who traveled to Uruk from various other nations.
Over these past few days, those merchants had been gradually approached by Siduri. Employed by the young advisor, they scattered across the plains of Mesopotamia, diligently spreading rumors as instructed.
No matter the era, merchants had always been the most mobile class. Even the smallest villages and most remote settlements would receive their visits, as long as there was profit to be made.
Thus, various rumors swiftly spread like wildfire. Some claimed the gods had grown weary of humanity, intending to unleash a cataclysm equal to the ancient Great Flood, purging and recreating the world. Others said the gods planned to sacrifice all humanity, harnessing their deaths to re-descend onto Mesopotamia and once again rule the mortal realm.
Driven by an invisible hand, such rumors sprang forth endlessly. Attempts by various priests to dispel these stories proved futile.
Even though the gods clearly declared their punishment would affect only Uruk, their credibility had long been shattered. Other nations naturally grew restless and anxious.
Instinctively, they began clustering together.
Yet, according to the original plan devised by Rovi and Gilgamesh, these countries should have united under Uruk's leadership.
After all, Uruk was indisputably the strongest kingdom on these vast plains.
Indeed, many city-states had already submitted clay tablets pledging their allegiance to Uruk, seeking protection.
However, there remained others who instead flocked toward another powerful nation—
"So, it's like that?" Rovi's voice echoed softly through the courtyard.
"Yes," Siduri replied, glancing briefly at Gilgamesh.
Seeing the king leaning silently against the armrest, deep in thought without intention to respond, Siduri took it upon herself to answer Rovi's question: "The foreign city-state of Akkad has taken the lead in opposing Uruk…"
"Currently, among the twelve city-states on the plains, seven have already submitted alliance tablets to us, while the remaining five… have aligned themselves with Akkad, led by outsiders."
Rovi rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
He recognized the name Akkad—it was something he remembered from before his transmigration. When he'd first learned of Gilgamesh through Type-Moon, he'd briefly read through historical texts, discovering mention of Akkad.
It was a city-state founded centuries prior by outsiders.
In the distant future, it would rise to replace a declining Uruk, eventually becoming the new hegemon of the region.
The renowned "Code of Hammurabi" would emerge from Akkadian civilization.
But of course, that flourishing was yet to come.
Currently, Akkad still lacked the power to rival Uruk directly.
Their sudden prominence at this precise moment, however…
"Is Akkad trying to side with the gods, seizing the opportunity to bite off a piece of Uruk's flesh and strengthen themselves?" Rovi grasped the implication immediately.
It was highly plausible.
Akkad had likely already obtained permission—or even promises—from the gods.
"What do you plan to do?" Rovi raised an eyebrow in question.
"All things under heaven and earth belong to this king. Mongrels who dare covet my possessions deserve nothing less than swift and merciless retribution!" Gilgamesh's response was predictably absolute.
"Intolerable." Even the usually gentle Siduri showed rare steeliness.
"Anyone who stands in our path—we kill," Enkidu offered calmly, her expression still gently smiling. "That's what weapons are meant for, after all."
This modest courtyard had effectively become a secondary council chamber, outside the royal palace.
And everyone present shared essentially the same view.
Because, in this moment, they represented Uruk—a hegemon whose authority absolutely could not be challenged.
"But the issue is," Rovi pointed out critically, "Can Uruk currently spare troops for a punitive expedition?"
The east and west required constant vigilance against the possible emergence of the divine and demonic beasts. The city-states that had already pledged alliances similarly required forces to assist and stabilize their territories.
In the past, unless Gilgamesh personally intervened, Uruk would indeed struggle against Akkad.
"And as we've already said, the king must not move lightly. No matter how irritating he is, the king remains the kingdom's symbol and ultimate deterrent. More importantly… taking direct action without justification would unsettle other city-states, harming our overall strategy."
Rovi glanced meaningfully at Gilgamesh, swiftly suppressing his eagerness.
Truthfully, he was simply looking for an excuse that Gilgamesh couldn't refute.
"So, leave it to me."
"I'll go probe these Akkad-aligned states first—see what exactly they're plotting—and then we can decide."
Exactly. Opportunities for spectacular deaths like this were something he'd planned for from the start.
This era's city-states had no custom forbidding the killing of envoys after all…
It was worth a shot.
"I'll represent the king's decree to intimidate those disobedient nations!"
"Then I'll go as well—" Enkidu instantly volunteered.
"En, you stay here in the royal city," Rovi interrupted gently. "This place is the true center of our strategy. I'll feel safer with you here. Take this—we can sense each other's presence through it."
Though Enkidu clearly disliked parting from Rovi, she still nodded softly, accepting the small 'key' from his hands.
This 'key' would allow mutual communication and let Rovi monitor her status—he'd instantly notice even the slightest irregularity.
"You take one as well," Rovi tossed another key casually to Gilgamesh.
Gilgamesh caught it effortlessly without refusal, though he predictably gave an unpleasant remark. "…A stray mongrel who recently crawled out from a sewer already wants to wander again?"
He actually hoped Rovi would rest a bit more.
"Compared to me, someone with your foul mouth is more likely to drop dead from overwork. So, worry about yourself first."
"Don't think I don't know you've been staying in the palace day and night, tirelessly handling affairs since we finalized our plans."
Had Rovi inadvertently triggered Gilgamesh's later habit of personally micromanaging everything?
The young king clearly showed enormous enthusiasm for the plan against the gods.
Rovi extended his hand abruptly: "Hand it over."
"Hmm?" Gilgamesh stared blankly at the open palm before him, momentarily confused.
"The envoy's seal representing Uruk!"
After all, he was heading into hostile territory.
Without an official seal, how could he prove his identity?
"The royal seal—? It's in the treasury. Go get it yourself!" Gilgamesh snorted disdainfully. "Moreover, since you're this king's envoy, I shall generously permit you to borrow my renown to intimidate the lands far and wide!"
"Oh, how very generous of you… Who knows how many enemies your foul mouth has made? I'll be lucky not to get beaten to death right after leaving town!"
Waving dismissively, Rovi stood up. "I'll go prepare—then head out immediately."
Better to leave quickly before those states reconsidered joining Uruk.
"Hmph, then this king shall also take his leave." Gilgamesh rose. "And you, divine clay doll—you may also consider yourself a friend recognized by this king."
"You, too, have permission to walk this king's world under my protection!"
Enkidu tilted her head curiously, staring at the golden ripples forming in her palm.
The [Gate of Babylon]—just as he had with Rovi, Gilgamesh had also granted Enkidu access.
Enkidu didn't quite understand, but still smiled politely: "Ah, thank you, Gil."
"Gil? Hmph. Call me whatever you wish."
Gilgamesh strode confidently out.
Rovi likewise departed shortly afterward, preparations complete.
Now, only Enkidu remained inside—
—alongside Ishtar.
"Ahhh—can't you at least let me down before leaving!?"
Inside, Ishtar's suspended protests grew increasingly desperate.
Yet Rovi, having stepped outside, heard nothing.
Because, as soon as he exited, someone blocked his path.
A ragged old man, dressed like a wandering beggar, appeared abruptly before him, softly uttering a startling name:
"Ziusudra?"