Thalia carefully lifted the baby into her arms.

  The child pressed into its mother’s chest, and Thalia looked down at it with

  quiet sorrow.

  Her lips trembled for a moment before she slowly spoke.

  “You never wanted a child.”

  Her skin and hair gradually dried and withered.

  Like smoke rising, she began to crumble into dust.

  “And I cannot bear a child.”

  She slowly knelt and offered the baby to her king.

  “This child was born by burning away my wish and my life…

  our child.”

  Scattered as dust on the wind of the grassland, the woman’s voice grew

  cracked and dry.

  “My king… my Gilgamesh, farewell.”

  Gilgamesh stood silently before Thalia.

  Then he spoke in a cold voice.

  “What are you doing? Get up, Thalia.”

  But Thalia did not move, leaving behind only an empty shell.

  Before him remained a baby, now crying.

  He bent down, picked the child up, and looked at it with an indifferent

  expression.

  “…Did you think this could replace you as a tool?”

  Anger rose on his face, tinged with emptiness.

  “Foolish! Truly foolish!”

  It was the first emotion he had shown.

  At that moment, a gentle breeze brushed past him.

  A voice lingered at his ear.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  ‘My… Gilgamesh.’

  Hearing it, light entered his cold, clouded eyes.

  Color slowly returned to his once-pale skin.

  Without realizing it, he was now holding the baby properly in his arms.

  He gazed at the child as if drawn in.

  Thalia’s shell had completely crumbled away.

  It was the end of three hundred years lived as king and priestess.

  The five siblings stared at the scene in stunned silence.

  It was entirely unexpected.

  Gilgamesh began to change slowly—it was aging.

  At a visible pace, he was growing old.

  Without taking his eyes off the baby, he slowly turned around.

  “What you seek… lies in Egypt.”

  Holding the golden blade upside down, he extended it toward Elaton.

  “Take it. It will be more useful than that piece of scrap.”

  Elaton took the sword without thinking.

  Gilgamesh then reached out into the air.

  A wavering blue light gathered in his hand, and he slashed downward as if

  cutting space itself.

  A blue rift opened, and beyond it appeared a vision of land with a river

  flowing through it.

  “Walking would take too long.

  Cross it. It is a gate that will take you directly to Egypt.”

  With his back turned, Gilgamesh’s aging was unmistakable.

  His once wave-like black hair turned white as if touched by frost,

  and his massive body gradually stooped.

  He bent down, picked up Thalia’s staff, and began to walk away.

  After carefully examining the gate, Azael was convinced it could be crossed.

  In the end, the siblings passed through one by one, keeping watch on the

  departing Gilgamesh.

  Last to remain, Elaton called out to him.

  “What will you… what will you do?”

  The king, now an old man, stopped for a moment.

  Unexpectedly, he answered.

  “I intend to raise the child.

  Go. You do not wish to fight any longer, do you?”

  After looking at him briefly, Elaton passed through the gate.

  The kingdom of Uruk ultimately collapsed amid shouts and flames.

  The people of the fallen nation, having taken part in the war, were captured as

  slaves,

  and the palace and temples burned to the ground.

  The allied forces searched for the king and his priestess, but they were never

  found.

  The invincible king vanished into the records,

  and no one ever learned what became of him and the child.

  *Patreon is now open. You can enjoy the next episode and illustrations there.

  *For managing the series, I will upload twice every three days.