Gilgamesh snatched the clay tablet from Meilin's hands with visible disgust, his fingers almost brushing hers—yet Meilin swiftly pulled her hand back and smiled.
Gilgamesh clicked his tongue coldly before looking down at the tablet.
That special clay inscription—one she was supposed to hold firmly with both hands—felt as light as a feather to him.
Under the inverted glow shining down from the dome above, the king's crimson eyes fixed on the stone tablet.
He began reading aloud:
"The gods, from their heavenly temples, look down on mankind; they wield divine authority over heaven and earth…"
At first, everything seemed normal.
But that was only the beginning.
"The god chosen king, meant to rule humanity… they believed the king they chose was perfect. Yet how does this king behave?"
"A king said to be merciless and ruthless. He tramples his own people, treats Uruk as his personal playground, and allows no one to defy him. He thinks he's great, but he doesn't even realize his people fear nothing but his power and authority."
Gilgamesh frowned, sensing something was off, and his voice softened.
Yet Meilin watched him finish it to the end—exactly as planned.
"The king cruelly steps on others, calling all his people 'useless trash,' and treating everyone like servants. According to his logic…"
"He, a being born of gods and humans, is the greatest creature alive!"
Crack—
The tablet fractured in Gilgamesh's tightening grip.
Though his voice was extremely low at the end, it still echoed clearly for everyone present.
The temple fell silent.
The crowd stared—not at the tablet—but at the king, their eyes filled with fear.
Only Meilin smiled.
She was proud of the "praise speech" she'd spent all night writing.
As someone who once studied social sciences, writing criticism and arguments was easy.
Not as grand as the scholars of her past life perhaps, but definitely enough.
Especially the final line—
"You keep calling others 'mongrel dogs'… do you think you're the only one allowed to say that?"
She had endured this bratty tyrant long enough—time to slap him with reality!
The event was sudden and unpredictable—except for Meilin, who had schemed it long ago.
Though the temple trembled in silence, everyone could feel…
The king's anger rising.
No one—since his birth—had ever dared lecture him or insult him this directly.
Not his parents, not former kings, not even the all-knowing goddess.
"Your Majesty, this… this must be a mistake—"
The high priest stepped forward, trembling.
He couldn't understand why the seemingly respectful Meilin would do such a thing, but as a high priest, he felt obligated to calm the king's wrath.
Or maybe… perhaps Meilin simply grabbed the wrong tablet?
Even now, he silently defended her.
But Gilgamesh merely glanced at him—a cold, red serpent's gaze from the depths of the underworld—and the old man froze.
"Did I give you permission to speak, worm…?"
He said it every day, but after reading that tablet, the words tasted bitter.
His expression darkened further.
And under that crimson gaze, no one else dared to speak.
Almost instantly, every priest, servant, and guard knelt.
Gilgamesh was a demigod. His anger alone was suffocating.
Everyone trembled—except Meilin.
Please—she had once endured divine auras in the RoR world because of her beauty. Valkyries even forced her to stay home to avoid trouble.
What was a mere demigod's aura compared to that?
Gilgamesh's intimidation meant nothing to her.
Meilin was thrilled.
The angrier Gilgamesh became, the happier she was.
So she showed him a cold, mocking smile.
Gilgamesh's glare chilled further.
"You lowly thing… have you thought of the consequences for offending your great and noble King? Filth like you are nothing but crawling maggots!"
He snarled, surrounded by trembling citizens.
"Don't think that just because you have a pretty face and a gentle aura, you can do whatever you want, vermin!"
Dark red markings ignited across his body—his divine lineage awakening.
A presence that dwarfed any ordinary human.
Who could remain unbowed?
Meilin could.
Facing his fury, she didn't flinch—instead, she smirked.
"Greatness is relative. Humility is eternal. I may be weaker than you, but compared to the gods… compared to the universe… who can remain strong forever?"
"But at least I understand that, while you don't."
Her smile widened—beautiful yet infuriating.
Meilin had prepared her words carefully, and of course she wouldn't remain silent now.
"Do your hands not tremble when you raise your weapons against your own people?"
"Does your heart not waver when your so-called 'power' becomes chains for those loyal to you, who only wished for your protection?"
"If that's what you call strength… then how fragile the throne built upon the wounds of its people really is."
Her voice rang with conviction.
"Do you know what a king is?"
"A true king protects their people and guards their land."
"But what kind of king are you?"
"Ask yourself—what have you actually done?"
"You call yourself king, yet your actions are nothing but that of a tyrant terrified of his own shadow."
"You wear your crown as if it's greatness itself—yet all it shows is greed and loneliness."
"You crush your unarmed people… people who only want a simple life without fearing your sword."
"Your justice only serves your own standards; your policies are blind to poverty, deaf to hunger, and twisted by endless ambition."
"You trample your people's dignity—treating their honor as dust beneath your feet."
"If that's what you call ruling… then history will remember you as a stain upon the land you were supposed to protect."
"You treat this nation like your private toy, manipulating it as you please, and the citizens as nothing but your playthings."
"Are you even worthy of being a king?"
"Gilgamesh… you're nothing more than trash!"
Meilin's beautiful face flushed with emotion, glowing with excitement.
Gilgamesh's expression grew calm—too calm.
In Uruk, calling the king by his name was unthinkably disrespectful.
But he didn't shout.
He didn't explode.
He simply… stilled.
Which meant his true anger was beginning.
He had always been the one calling others trash.
Now—someone called him that.
And strangely, her words resonated with the people around them.
Because everything she said was true.
The tyrant who bullied his people for sport—everyone in Uruk knew this.
But no one dared say it aloud.
Except Meilin.
She risked her life for the people.
She risked her life to expose their king.
Suddenly, everyone realized—
This beautiful woman before them…
She was fighting for Uruk.
"For the record—you're worse than trash!"
With that final shout, a soft white light enveloped Meilin, making her seem divine.
As if Gaia, Alaya, and the gods themselves agreed.
The high priest burst into tears.
He had not misjudged her!
Compared to his own desire to merely prolong Uruk's survival—Meilin's way was direct, bold, and honest.
She loved this nation more than herself—more than anyone.
To be continued ~
Disclaimer, because here Meilin has not shown her real gender, so from he to she