Rovi made his move.
He did not walk toward Uruk's great wall, nor even stir a step. He simply stood where he was—stood at the rear of that flood of beasts—and unfolded the power of the [Key of Heaven] that he had by now fully mastered.
Above his head, a vast key traced its hazy form across the sky.
With a low chime—like a bell ringing clear and bright—it reverberated, falling into every heart.
The soldiers atop the great wall were stirred by that sound, lifting their eyes upward.
"What is that…"
"That is—"
"The Sage—Lord Rovi!?"
At a glance they saw the [Key of Heaven] etched across the sky, and beneath it, the figure in linen robes standing tall.
"Rovi… I've been waiting for you." Enkidu smiled softly, voice not loud, yet clear as it carried straight into Rovi's ears. Such basic use of mana, none of the three here lacked.
And Gilgamesh, on the other side, broke into boisterous laughter:
"Hmph, Bwahaha! This king was not mistaken. One bold enough to bark at this great king—would never be absent from such a place!"
"Enough, Goldie—if you want to trade words, now is not the time."
Rovi let his arms fall at his sides, robe flaring in the high wind. "Drive off this rabble first—then talk all you want!"
"Hmph. Just as this king intended." Gilgamesh inclined his head in reply. "Enkidu, how prepared are you?"
"Anytime." Enkidu's warm answer.
"Then—let's begin." Rovi smiled.
Enkidu crouched, pressing both palms flat to the ground.
Gilgamesh spread his hands slowly, scarlet pupils narrowing sharp as blades.
In that instant, the Hero King's treasury rippled, its light burning brighter, the swords within trembling—endless blades linking edge to edge into a sea of steel.
In that instant, beneath Enkidu's palms the soil began to flow, grasses sprang forth in a breath, verdure burst in sudden bloom.
In that instant—
The [Key of Heaven] hung in the sky.
Brilliant radiance spread from above Rovi's head, linking to Gilgamesh's blazing light, bearing Enkidu's burgeoning life—then surging heavenward!
Howl—!
The charging beasts froze in their rush, an immense, nameless terror seizing their dim instincts. Heads tilted back, howls burst one after another.
They had seen what was gathering above.
They had seen the crimson light, spreading like fire across the sky.
They had seen a single beam lance upward, as though to pierce the firmament itself.
Red and gold shadows drowned the world. It was like the primordial moment of creation—when the god [Ea] cut through chaos to steady the elements, to stabilize the sky and air.
Of course, only "like." In essence, entirely different. In scale, immeasurably less.
But this too was the wonder wrought by the perfect union of Rovi, Gilgamesh, and Enkidu.
Here and now—compared to the Monster Forest back then—whether Gilgamesh, or Rovi, or Enkidu, all three had grown far, far stronger.
Especially Rovi.
Though not what he wished, that last battle of life and death had honed his grasp upon his own power—stronger, sharper, fully unified in concept.
Now in no way inferior to Gilgamesh or Enkidu, who were born as such.
And together, their power was undeniable.
Natural, pure.
Even in the age when gods stood at their height, such power would be reckoned great.
The whole world seemed to hold still in that moment.
The men on the wall gaped, stunned, struck dumb with awe, yet filled with praise for the three.
And the beasts, crushed beneath that pressure, could scarcely move.
And in that same instant, as time flickered—
A golden streak, wrapped in crimson flame, fell straight down—into the very heart of the beast flood!
Silence.
Like a flower unfolding slowly in the hush.
The golden beam slid down.
And split heaven and earth.
At the instant it struck the ground where the tide of beasts stood, it rose up like a storm surge. Waves surging, beasts screaming, torn apart.
No gore. Not slaughter.
But like a painter, with brush and cloth, wiping a drawing from paper bit by bit.
Color erased, then shapes, then lines, until not even a point remained.
Dust billowed for miles, then drifted away. The sky remained clear and blue.
Rovi lowered his hand, gazed upon the emptied plain, and raised his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow.
Tens of thousands of beasts—erased in an instant.
Though the cost was immense, the power the three displayed together was enough to shake any existence.
It was power that seemed to split open the heavens and earth.
The battlefield was silent.
"Hmph, Bwahahaha! Power like this—truly exhilarating! As expected of this king, as expected of the friends this king has chosen!"
With that triumphant laughter, Gilgamesh leapt from his star chariot, borne of thrones, and landed solidly upon the flattened ground. His battle skirt swayed as he strode to the center.
"Rovi, Gil…"
Enkidu smiled, brushing pale robes as he too stepped forward, green hair falling smooth to veil him in verdure.
Rovi descended from the height to meet them.
The three came together.
The King, the Divine Weapon, the Sage.
In name and in fact, the three rulers of Uruk. And here, before the eyes of all, they met at last.
And their act—without doubt—was also a declaration to the gods above.
Here and now, all was ready.
No further masks were needed.
The Sage drew together the strength of King Gilgamesh and the Divine Weapon Enkidu.
He turned the sky into red and gold, and from it fell a light that split the world.
An ancient breath rang out like the silence of the first opening of heaven and earth.
The people gazed in awe.
Even the gods in heaven trembled in fear.
—"The Epic of Gilgamesh."
And just then, above the high heavens—
After last time, when the "eye" they had left in the human world was nearly destroyed by Rovi, the gods no longer kept constant watch upon the lower realm.
But the power displayed by these three shook even the divine realm above the present world.
And so they knew what had transpired below.
"The power of those three… has grown stronger!"
The king of the gods, Anu, wore a solemn face, yet hawk-bright eyes gleamed all the sharper.
"If such power is left unchecked—then even this heaven where we stand may not be spared!"
"So… Gilgamesh has been deceiving us from the very beginning!"
"His prayers, his words of surrender, his talk of discarding one of them—all lies, just to buy time!"
"We can no longer allow it—"
The gods were not enraged at the deception.
For from the beginning, they had known well enough: most likely, Gilgamesh was deceiving them.
They had placed some small hope upon him—but no more than that.
And now, since Gilgamesh had cast aside pretense—
"Then it is time we too, passed final judgment!"
Anu, king of the gods, lifted high the staff that ruled the heavens and commanded the pantheon. His voice rolled vast across the divine realm above.