News that Kish and the allied forces were advancing had already reached

  Uruk.

  Uruk devoted itself fully to preparations for battle.

  Laborers moved supplies and equipment, forges showered sparks as weapons were

  produced without rest, and officers focused on drills with their soldiers.

  At the center of Uruk stood a vast black palace.

  It towered even higher than the temples, massive enough to seem as though it

  touched the sky.

  Deep within the palace lay a secret chamber.

  At its center was an intricate ritual circle drawn by the priestess Thalia, and

  within it sat King Gilgamesh.

  Gilgamesh had let down his long, black, wave-like hair and sat bare-chested.

  Thalia circled him, shaking her staff and chanting a strange, songlike

  incantation.

  A change came over Gilgamesh’s body.

  Veins rose sharply across his pale, muscular frame, and violent bulges writhed

  beneath his skin.

  It looked as though something were trying to tear its way out from within him.

  As Thalia’s chant reached its climax, the ritual circle flared red.

  The writhing presence within his body subsided, and the raised veins gradually

  sank back down.

  Both Gilgamesh and Thalia looked exhausted.

  A servant brought a towel, and Gilgamesh wiped the sweat from his body and

  face.

  “Your Majesty, this is only a temporary measure.”

  At Thalia’s words, Gilgamesh remained silent for a moment.

  Then he looked at her steadily.

  “And the completion… how long will it take?”

  “I am preparing it… I will hasten the process.”

  There was something fundamentally wrong with Gilgamesh’s body.

  For centuries, he had hunted Nephilim and consumed their corpses.

  In doing so, he had gained near-limitless power and lifespan, but the Nephilim

  souls that failed to fully fuse with him became vengeful spirits, periodically

  tearing fissures within his body.

  Each time, Thalia suppressed them, but it was only a stopgap.

  She was now preparing a grand ritual to solve the problem at its root.

  She was constructing a massive ritual circle that would require the

  sacrifice of hundreds of priests.

  By combining their lives with her own power, she planned to fuse the chaotic

  forces splintering within Gilgamesh.

  But preparing such a ritual took time.

  Before it could be completed, the enemy would reach Uruk’s walls.

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  Thalia had one final way to shorten that time.

  She bit down hard on her lip, as if making a painful decision.

  Meanwhile, the allied city-state army crossed Uruk’s borders and advanced at

  speed.

  Countless chariots formed the vanguard, racing forward, while infantry and

  laborers hauling supplies followed behind with siege weapons.

  At the very front ran a goat-drawn cart carrying the five siblings.

  The goats charged forward at overwhelming speed, tireless as they ran.

  Azael had obtained ten bottles of life-extending elixir from Shara.

  After examining Ella, Shara concluded that using her powers did not consume her

  lifespan.

  As a result, the remaining four siblings each drank two bottles, gaining an

  additional twenty years of life.

  For those who could not be sure of seeing tomorrow, it was a desperately needed

  blessing.

  The remaining two bottles were kept by Azael in preparation for emergencies.

  In the distance, the massive, dark-colored palace of Uruk came into view.

  Soon after, Uruk’s vast army revealed itself, covering the land.

  Its numbers were in no way inferior to those of the allied forces.

  Uruk had never intended to hide behind its walls and endure a siege.

  The allied army gradually slowed and advanced to a set distance from the

  Uruk forces.

  Familiar faces came into view: Ashurgar, Abarqash, and Kashirgal.

  And at their center stood the giant king Gilgamesh and his priestess Thalia.

  Silence fell as the two great armies faced one another.

  Soon, a scribe from Kish stepped forward, holding a stone tablet, and began to

  speak.

  He was clearly a seasoned orator; his voice rang out powerfully.

  “Uruk! King Gilgamesh! We are gathered here in the name of divinity and

  justice!”

  The speech was sharp enough to sting the ears, yet Gilgamesh’s pale face

  remained expressionless as he stared ahead.

  “You have unjustly oppressed your neighboring states, and at last you

  shattered the walls of Kish and sought to trample our people! This is a heinous

  crime that enrages Enlil of the heavens and condemns all mankind before the

  divine!”

  Boos and shouts of condemnation erupted from the allied soldiers.

  “Our demand is clear! We call for Uruk’s unconditional surrender!”

  The allied army roared in unison.

  With tens of thousands shouting at once, the sound threatened to rupture

  eardrums.

  Gilgamesh stepped forward slowly, as if to respond.

  He seized a spear from a nearby soldier and examined it calmly.

  Thud.

  The spear flew in an instant.

  The scribe was pierced before he could even scream.

  The spear passed through his body, skewered several soldiers standing behind

  him, and only then came to a stop.

  Gilgamesh spoke a single, flat sentence.

  “This is my answer.”

  Grinding his teeth in fury, Namur Bel roared.

  “Prepare for full advance! The battle has already begun!”

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