"First it was fratricide—now, do you intend to slay even me?"
Xu Zhi's expression shifted subtly from surprise to resignation, finally settling into calm acceptance. He gazed quietly upon Gilgamesh, the so-called Hero King—who once, upon reclaiming his youth from death's threshold, had mercilessly slain his own beloved son. Now, facing death yet again, Gilgamesh raised his sword against the very being who had bestowed civilization upon him.
Perhaps Xu Zhi should have anticipated this from the beginning. After all, among countless trembling insect apes, he had deliberately chosen a brave youth who dared to roar defiantly at a colossal celestial giant. Such boldness could not easily fade; it was simply the hero's nature.
Fixing Gilgamesh with a steady gaze, Xu Zhi spoke, his voice solemn and clear, "Gilgamesh, this is my final warning: cease your brutality at once. This violence is barbarism, not civilization. Your next actions will exact a price heavier than any mortal can bear."
Gilgamesh opened eyes red as embers, as if recalling the reckless passion of his youth. With voice raw and defiant, he responded, "There is no price greater than death itself!"
His shout echoed fiercely, brimming with the same death-defying resolve he had once shown in battle against Fenba. "Today, I shall end the wise beast's life, seize its civilization, and inherit its power, achieving my immortality!"
Shaking with intensity, Gilgamesh roared, "I will lead my people in open rebellion against you!"
Muscles taut like sculpted marble and skin pale as northern gods of legend, Gilgamesh's voice thundered across Uruk:
"This is civilization's first great war—a mortal civilization challenging an incomparable wise giant! Though you once nurtured our civilization, you now stand in its way!"
Raising his sword high as the wind whipped through his disheveled white hair, he declared with breathtaking arrogance, "I will mobilize the strength of our entire nation—"
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The deep tolling of a massive stone bell reverberated across the land, and the mighty city of Uruk erupted in chaos.
Hundreds of thousands of soldiers swiftly gathered in precise formations, surging forward as one unstoppable force. Observing this with resignation, Xu Zhi sighed inwardly. Long before I noticed—perhaps even a decade ago—Gilgamesh had already prepared his entire nation for war against me. Today, he has deliberately provoked conflict. If I refuse his demands, he intends to kill me.
In that moment, Xu Zhi realized the cunning hero king had carefully planned everything—he truly was a formidable tyrant.
—
Across the sweeping Mesopotamian plains, within the prosperous city of Ur, Ishdather stood serenely before her palace. Even from this great distance, she could clearly see the figure of the colossal giant standing beside the royal capital, its head rising through swirling clouds, radiating sacred brilliance.
"What a majestic and magnificent being!"
Ishdather's eyes narrowed slightly. "Now is the moment to act. Otherwise, how could the tyrannical Gilgamesh ever willingly entrust his precious Blood of Power to another? From the very start, he was seeking allies for this moment."
With agile grace, she leaped onto the back of an Alara beast, donned a black felt hat, and raised a massive black stone hammer crafted from the bones of great beasts. Her voice echoed powerfully,
"Mother! Grandmother! Ancestors!"
Across the plains, uncertain voices hesitantly joined her call.
"Zar'en—are you still alive?" Ishdather abruptly turned her head.
A young man's face darkened with grief. "Grandmother, Father is bedridden—he nears death."
"My son, wait until I, Ishdather, King of the Grasslands, return and restore your life!"
Sorrow momentarily clouded her expression as she stared longingly toward the towering distant giant. "I am not Gilgamesh—I cannot bear to watch my children and grandchildren fade before my eyes. I hunger for more of the Blood of Power… perhaps even the wise giant's blood itself—the true elixir of eternal life!"
"Prepare for battle!"
With a fierce cry, she spurred her massive Alara beast forward, displaying the fierce bravery of the grassland barbarians as she led her elite cavalry in a charge. "Let history remember this day clearly: in the 175th year of the Sumerian dynasty, the people of Sumer slew the wise giant and claimed immortality!"
—
Near the royal capital, beneath the sacred tree that once pierced the sky—a towering, ancient tree long abandoned after its use to test the treasures of civilization—stood Enkidu Forest City. Upon its colossal branches, an intricate settlement thrived in splendid prosperity.
In the highest treehouse, Enkidu leaned on his wooden cane, silently contemplating the terrifying giant whose immense figure reached into the clouds. Behind him stood several of his disciples, quiet and hesitant.
"Master, it is time. You promised His Majesty—"
A soft voice urged him from behind.
"No, we must defy this order—Enkidu Forest City shall not march," Enkidu replied softly, shaking his head. Even from afar, the overwhelming majesty of the giant pressed heavily upon his heart.
"Are you afraid, Master?" a blunt disciple ventured. "The three great kings of Sumer combined could perhaps even defeat this legendary wise giant…"
"No, my hesitation is not from fear of death, but fear of betraying that which is more precious than life itself," Enkidu gently explained. "Civilization and wisdom are our true legacies. If we slaughter the wise giant—our benefactor, our civilization's creator—we descend into savagery. Tell me, disciples: shall we willingly become barbarians?"
His disciples fell silent. Their master was one of the strongest of the three kings, a legendary forest hero who had survived the Blood of Power trials. And yet…
"I refuse to march. I am willing to face death as punishment!" Enkidu turned toward his most trusted disciple, Utanapitzum, and spoke gravely:
"If Gilgamesh wins, present my head to him—I alone defied his orders, and under his cruel reign, death was my inevitable fate. May he spare our city."
"But if the wise giant triumphs," Enkidu's voice trembled slightly, "then offer my head to the giant, pleading for mercy—so the wise being may know that our civilization still possesses true guardians, not mere savages, and spare our people's future."
"Master…"
Utanapitzum fell silent, grief etched deeply on his face. Enkidu slowly spread his arms, surrendering without resistance.
After a heavy silence, Utanapitzum raised his blade, and blood spilled forth silently.
Thud.
Enkidu, one of the greatest heroes of Sumerian civilization, offered no resistance as his head fell. Utanapitzum wrapped the familiar, peaceful face in animal hide. Suddenly, a profound sorrow overtook him, sensing vaguely that something irreplaceably precious had been lost.
…
The sky trembled.
"Volley!"
Countless arrows and spears, dark as blood, pierced the dense clouds, raining upon the wise giant.
The earth wailed as it shuddered violently.
Legions of soldiers surged forward like ants, while stone structures within Uruk collapsed one after another, falling like children's blocks.
Commoners fled desperately, screams and cries mingling with beastly roars and brutal laughter—the deafening symphony of death overwhelming all.
The magnificent city of Uruk, once civilization's proud bastion, had become a bloody battlefield.