Chapter 770: Speech and Farewell
"Gogh!"
"Let's go, Fujimaru! The Lahmus have surrounded us—we can't wait any longer for her to change her mind!"
At the final moment when the prism barrier separated them, Fujimaru continued staring intently at the solitary and awkward goddess, refusing to blink even as the image of her figure faded from his retinas.
"If this is the goddess's choice, you should respect it, Fujimaru," Sakatsuki said without turning back, carrying the half-dead Kingu under one arm while supporting the weakened Quetzalcoatl with the other. "If you feel resentful, then repay it tenfold next time."
"I understand, Sakatsuki," Fujimaru wiped his face roughly and followed him. "What do we do now?"
"We return to Uruk. The war has entered its next phase. Since the demonic beasts have played their trump card, it's only right we respond in kind."
"Got it."
Moments later, Uruk Palace.
"The most troublesome opponent has taken the stage. Eridu, ruled by the Sun Goddess, has already been slaughtered by them. Under the threat of the Lahmu battalions, no city is safe—we must consolidate our defenses."
Sakatsuki bluntly laid out the threat, his gaze sweeping across the assembled figures in the palace.
The king seated upon the throne—Gilgamesh. Enkidu, summoned as a Lancer. The Mistress of Heaven, Ishtar. The diminished divinity, Quetzalcoatl. The young goddess Anna, summoned through the blood of Gorgon. The British sage, Merlin. Fujimaru Ritsuka, Master of Chaldea. The Archer, Tomoe Gozen.
Along with the goddess Ereshkigal, watching over the underworld, and himself—a traveler from another world.
Ten in total. These were all the forces Uruk could openly muster before the final calamity arrived.
Compared to the tens of millions of Lahmu and the two Baal Lahmu of divine rank, the gap in both numbers and quality was staggering.
And above all, the true commander of the enemy forces, the mastermind behind this Singularity—had yet to reveal itself.
"Fujimaru Ritsuka, by now, you should know who the final enemy of this Singularity is," Gilgamesh calmly uttered the term. "The Evils of Humanity—literally, the stains of mankind, the calamities that bring about humanity's destruction. The more humanity develops, the stronger they become, like a cancer consuming the body from within society."
"Wait," Ishtar suddenly interjected. "The one awakened now is Mother, right? Isn't this situation caused by the goddess Tiamat?"
"The Beast I speak of is indeed the goddess Tiamat," Gilgamesh replied. "The opponent we must challenge is the true primordial deity of the world. Though grievously wounded and near death in her battle with the cook, she has now fully awakened—and as of yesterday, has regained her full power."
A brief silence fell as the oppressive aura of the primordial goddess left everyone's mouths dry. After his short explanation, Gilgamesh waved his hand, his expression turning solemn.
"Let's set aside the matter of Mother Tiamat for now. The current priority is to stop the onslaught of the endless Lahmu. I have already ordered Uruk to enter its highest state of combat readiness. The four hundred Divine Constructs have been fully resupplied, and every soldier still able to move has been deployed to the front lines. But even so—"
"It's not enough." Before Gilgamesh could continue, Sakatsuki shook his head and declared firmly. "No matter how powerful the Divine Constructs are, their attacks are only A-rank at best. If the Lahmu choose to defend, they'll be utterly useless. As for the soldiers—"
He didn't finish the sentence, but everyone understood.
What could mere human soldiers accomplish in the face of combat on the level of the Age of Gods?
Gilgamesh's expression darkened, his voice laced with suppressed fury: "All of my magical energy, the fully opened Treasury of Uruk, every elite soldier, the gods and Servants guarding the front lines... Is even all of that still not enough?"
Sakatsuki continued to shake his head. Gilgamesh took a deep breath, and everyone could feel him like a volcano on the verge of eruption: "Then what if we add the Underworld to that? Don't think I don't know about the power you've hidden beneath the goddess—that is also Uruk's trump card!"
Sakatsuki listened quietly to the king's furious words, lightly bit his lip, and then—slowly, resolutely—shook his head again.
"What exactly are you trying to say, mongrel?! Do you see my Uruk as some flimsy paper basket that will collapse at the slightest touch?!"
"Your opponent is me! If I could kill you once, I can kill you a second time!" Sakatsuki roared back, veins bulging, appearing even more enraged than Gilgamesh. "You bastard! Even if it means sacrificing your people's lives, you still refuse to bow your head to me even once?!"
"Hah, ridiculous! I'd rather die than bow to a mongrel like you! If fate wants what remains of Uruk's life, then let it take it!"
"Gilgamesh!"
"Silence! Don't forget whose sin caused all of this in the first place, mongrel!"
In the tense silence that followed, the young man grimly lowered his voice but still spoke firmly: "Why? Even if everything is destined for ruin, why not seize that brief moment of respite?"
"I've said it—I refuse." The king on the throne sneered.
"That's what you think, but what about your people? Even now, new lives are being born—" Sakatsuki took a deep breath. "Are you going to let those innocent children perish with you?!"
If it were the Holy King defending Britain, hearing these words would surely have shaken her resolve, for her hesitation stemmed from her compassion.
But the one seated upon the throne now was the tyrant and dictator from Mesopotamia, the King of Heroes who defined his own axis.
The King of Uruk was never merciful.
Meeting Sakatsuki's furious gaze, he stood up without flinching.
"The end is finally upon us—about two days remain. But you need not perish alongside Uruk."
Addressing the astonished eyes of his people, the king declared loudly:
"Those who seek survival, go to the Northern Wall! Those who seek battle, become the foundation of Uruk!"
All was silent, save for Gilgamesh's impassioned voice echoing through the palace, amplified by magic arrays to reach the entire city.
"The deadline is until dusk. Go bid your final farewells to family and friends!"
So candidly, he laid sacrifice and survival before the people, leaving the choice to them.
As the speech concluded, Gilgamesh calmed and turned, brushing past Sakatsuki to return to his throne.
"See this mighty city? This is where my dignity and glory reside, cook." He spoke softly, his arrogance undisguised. "Until the last ounce of courage is spent, the last drop of blood shed, I will not allow you to tarnish our honor."
Sakatsuki gritted his teeth, exhaling slowly before sneering and turning away with a flick of his sleeve. "Do as you will. But remember this—the moment I judge Uruk incapable of fighting, I will take over the battlefield."
"Hmph, suit yourself."
After Sakatsuki left, Gilgamesh paid no heed to the tense atmosphere in the palace, lost in thought. After a long while, he turned to Fujimaru. "This search was quite the ordeal. You've worked hard."
Fujimaru gave a dry laugh. "It wasn't too bad, but, Your Majesty..."
"Don't fret over our quarrel." Gilgamesh saw through Fujimaru's hesitation at once, his lips quirking in amusement. "It's merely a difference in ideals. If anything, I admire his actions."
"Admire?"
"Indeed." Gilgamesh's smile grew peculiar. "At least it proves that no matter what happens, that fool will come running back to serve my Uruk until death... Tsk, in modern terms, he's a fine tool."
"Uh..." Fujimaru's face darkened, while Enkidu chimed in cheerfully:
"Gil, as your retainer, I can't pretend I didn't hear that, you know?"
"No matter. The fool knows it himself—that's why he stormed off in such a huff. Hahaha..." Gilgamesh laughed heartily. "If only that cook hadn't slunk away with his tail between his legs. I'd have loved to see his face now."
Even his own allies aren't spared—truly fitting of the King of Heroes!
Fujimaru's lips twitched, but he failed to notice Merlin standing silently beside him, watching the laughing Gilgamesh with shimmering eyes.
Perhaps because they were of similar nature—as a half-incubus, half-human, Merlin could understand, to some extent, the true reason for the joy of this fellow non-human, the Wedge of Heaven.
The Gilgamesh seated upon the throne was an impartial judge of humanity. Thus, while he would protect [humanity], he would not show favor to [individuals]. His interest and affection for humans stemmed from his belief that what they created held value—that "while humans themselves are dull, the things they create have worth." It was this conviction that kept him seated in the palace of Uruk.
On the other hand, Sakatsuki, the Last Knight—could no longer simply be described as "human." He did not possess the same feelings toward humanity as King Arthur, as Artoria did. His dedication to protecting Uruk stemmed solely from a simple thought: "This is a place cherished by people I acknowledge, so I might as well lend them a hand."
If there were no one he cared about, even if an entire world crumbled before him or humanity perished en masse, it would weigh nothing on his conscience. He might even raise a glass to admire such a rare spectacle.
Yet, upon realizing humanity's impending doom, these two ill-natured individuals were the first to reach an unspoken consensus, forming an alliance to delay the destruction of this Singularity until now.
A belief so similar that it resonated between them—one even Enkidu, his closest friend, could not comprehend. And this was precisely why Gilgamesh found it amusing.
"What a beautiful encounter, what an intriguing tale..." Merlin murmured to himself, closing his eyes in satisfaction. "Never again will there be souls as strong yet tender as these two."
Not friends, yet surpassing confidants.
So incompatible, yet so deeply trusting of one another.
"Merlin, are you daydreaming again?" The Hero King's call snapped Merlin out of his reverie, prompting him to open his eyes with a faint smile.
"At your command, my King."
"Enough with the antics. Success or failure hinges on these next few days—I demand you muster the resolve to face death itself." Gilgamesh waved a hand imperiously. "Gorgon is entrusted to you, Fujimaru, and Anna. Investigate the cause of her sudden loss of control and attempt to bring her back to Uruk. Before the Lahmu's assault begins, we must unite every force we can."
No one objected. Even the King, who had repeatedly worked himself to exhaustion, never once complained—what right did the others have to rest? After brief instructions, Fujimaru and the other two immediately set out once more for the perilous northern shores of the Persian Gulf. Watching them depart, Gilgamesh turned to the captain standing beside Siduri.
"How goes the evacuation?"
"Despite prior rehearsals, we're still short on manpower," the captain admitted shamefully. "At this rate, we won't be able to guide all citizens to safety before sunset."
"Is that so." Gilgamesh's eyes gleamed, and Siduri, sensing her King's dilemma, stepped forward.
"My King, allow me to go."
Yet before her words even settled, she was met with a ruthless rebuke:
"Denied, Siduri!"
Never before had Gilgamesh shown such fury—like a golden-maned lion baring its fangs, he glared at his most trusted priestess in silent intimidation.
She was not permitted to leave his sight.
The sudden response made Siduri instinctively retreat a step, her eyes wide with confusion and innocence as she stared at the King, who had abruptly adopted such an unyielding stance. After a long, long silence, her lashes trembled slightly, and she lowered her gaze to the clay tablet cradled in her arms.
Finally, she resigned herself and closed her eyes, tilting her head slightly upward. When she reopened those beautiful eyes, she gazed earnestly at the king she had served for countless years, her lips curving into a serene smile.
Those pale gray eyes held an undeniable tenderness, like that of an elder sister, causing even the lofty king to avert his gaze as if burned.
"Is that so... Then... go ahead..."
"Forgive my rudeness." Without lingering or reluctance, the high priestess bowed as she always did, then turned and disappeared beyond the grand doors.
That graceful figure gradually faded away.
"Shall I accompany you?" Enkidu asked considerately.
"Unnecessary." After a fleeting moment of what might have been mistaken for vulnerability, Gilgamesh regained his cold, decisive demeanor. "Mere civilian evacuation isn't worth deploying a combatant of your caliber. Come, we have more pressing matters to attend to."
Turning his face away, his gaze seemed to pierce through the walls as if witnessing everything unfolding within the ziggurat. The king narrowed his eyes and murmured under his breath.
"A hysterical clay doll... Hmph. Did it lose its heart along with the Holy Grail?"