Chapter 47: War is Imminent, First Set a Flag
Rowe had been away from Uruk for quite a while, roaming the plains without returning to the capital.
Yet his deeds had already turned him into Uruk’s second banner, standing beside Gilgash’s own. In this land, everyone knew the truth even if no one dared to say it aloud.
The throne had three seats now.
The King, the Sage, and the Divine Construct.
Uruk was still, in na, a kingdom ruled by one man. But in practice, it resembled a balance that later ages would call a separation of powers.
Gilgash held the center, commanding the nation through prestige and authority.
Rowe walked abroad as the Sage, conducting diplomacy, deterring rival city states with wisdom and strength.
Enkidu guarded the front lines, her overwhelming martial might holding the wilderness through the seven days when the Great Wall went up.
Now that Rowe had returned, the Sage was back at the capital’s side. The three rulers of Uruk were reunited, and the effect was imdiate. Not just on the city, but on the vast settlent that had pulled all humanity together.
Morale, stability, order. You could feel them in the air.
That night, Uruk lay under a star soaked sky, its size far greater than before.
Near the Royal Palace, in a quiet courtyard washed with pale moonlight, three figures sat around a stone table.
“Hmph hahaha. May the barking wild dogs not be startled by this King’s treasured wine.”
Gilgash laughed as he lifted a golden cup, the candlelight catching in his hair like molten tal.
Rowe snorted, picking up his own cup.
“It was Enkidu who brought it, yet you are shaless enough to call it yours.”
“All things in heaven and earth pass through this King’s hands.”
“Does that include all the excrent on the ground, which you alone produce?”
“….”
Gilgash froze for half a breath, the words catching in his throat like a fishbone.
Enkidu took a small sip with both hands, watched the exchange in silence, then tilted her head. A serene, almost helpless smile appeared.
“Hmph. This King is in a good mood today, so I will not argue with you.”
Gilgash downed the rest of his wine in one gulp.
“Good. I did not want to argue with you either. How childish. How old are you, again?”
Rowe shook his head as if he were tolerating a noisy child rather than the King of Uruk.
Gilgash glared at him, then after a pause, the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
“Speaking of which, it has been a while since the three of us gathered like this.”
Rowe swirled the wine in his cup, then raised it toward the bright moon overhead.
“Next, we all must live.”
The words landed oddly, too heavy for a casual toast.
Gilgash stared at him for a mont. The usual sharp arrogance in his eyes dulled into sothing calr, more serious.
“That is only natural. Those mongrels cannot harm this King who rules over all creation.”
He lifted his cup as well.
“Mm. I will live too.” Enkidu’s cheeks were faintly flushed from the wine, her green hair falling softly over her shoulders. “Wherever Rowe is, I will definitely be there. I will not leave.”
Cups touched. Clear ringing. A few drops spilled.
Rowe smiled, satisfied.
All three of them knew it. Their plan to resist the gods had already reached the most critical point.
A toast like this before a decisive battle was, for the one who proposed it, a clear on of death.
“Feeling a bit sleepy… mm. Rowe, Gil, I am going to sleep first.”
Enkidu swayed once, then folded onto the table like a child succumbing to warmth.
“Hmph hahaha. You cannot even hold on this long?” Gilgash threw his head back. “Oh, mud being. As this King’s friend, your tolerance is still pathetically poor.”
“Do not force it.” Rowe glanced at him, expression flat. “If you want to sleep, then sleep.”
“Mongrel, how dare you look down on this King… hic…”
Gilgash tried to snarl, but the words dissolved into a drunken hiccup. He swayed once, then collapsed onto the ground with the dignity of a fallen statue.
Enkidu’s wine from Humbaba’s hoard was delicious. It was also terrifyingly potent, a brew that might well have been ant for gods.
Even Gilgash and Enkidu could not stand against it.
Rowe, however, was different. As the Key of Heaven, he could quietly drain the wine from his body through a gate and send it elsewhere. He was only a little tipsy.
Not drunk.
And he had no intention of being drunk.
Because he was waiting for soone.
Waiting to plant an even larger flag.
“Are they sleeping like dead pigs already? Greeting this great goddess in such a state is truly rude.”
A clear, arrogant voice drifted in on the night breeze.
Rowe looked up.
A figure stood on the courtyard wall.
Ishtar, in Rin’s vessel, wore a crimson jacket whose hem brushed her thighs. Her fair calves caught the moonlight. Hands in her pockets, she flicked her long black hair back and jumped down lightly.
She glanced at the unconscious Gilgash and Enkidu, then snorted at Rowe, the only one still upright.
“Soone wants to see you.”
Rowe did not need to think to know who.
In a blink, the presence before him shifted.
Black hair turned to pure gold.
The red jacket beca a flowing crimson cape.
The sa body, yet a different air entirely. Softer, quieter, and sohow warr even in the night.
“Rowe.”
Ereshkigal opened crimson eyes full of shy delight.
“I told you I would co to see you again.”
She stepped forward.
Then she suddenly stumbled.
“Eh?”
Her startled cry rang out.
Rowe’s eyes slid to the ground.
A rolled wine cup.
And the hand that had flicked it there.
“haha haha. A re god trying to pass through a courtyard ruled by this King? Never.”
Gilgash was still asleep, eyes shut tight, yet his laughter bood like he was holding court in his dreams.
Rowe stared at him.
Even in his sleep, this man was arrogant enough to fight gods.
Impressive, in its own ridiculous way.
Also, perfectly tid.
Well done.
Rowe opened his arms. Ereshkigal, already pitched forward, fell neatly into his embrace.
“Hmm?”
She lifted her head, dazed, only to freeze as her face flushed scarlet.
Rowe’s hands rested on her slender waist through the black fabric. The warmth there made her breath hitch.
“Im… impertinent…” she stamred.
“Who is impertinent?”
“You are impertinent!”
“Then I will let go.”
“Eh!”
He loosened his hold exactly as he said it.
Ereshkigal, still leaning forward, instinctively grabbed him and moved even closer. The last sliver of distance vanished. Her head pressed against his chest, hearing the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
“You told to let go,” Rowe said, smiling like a criminal caught with no intention of repenting.
Ereshkigal went silent, cheeks burning, her heart sohow racing even faster.
This posture was too much. Too embarrassing.
“Ereshkigal.”
Rowe spoke first, saving her from drowning in her own shyness.
“You know what we are about to do next, right?”
She startled, then nodded faintly.
“Mm.”
The response was so soft it might have been mistaken for the wind.
Rowe wanted to say more, but she lifted her face, golden hair veiling her expression.
“I ca for this.”
Her gaze was steady now.
“No matter what, I will stand with you.” She smiled, cheeks still red, but her voice carried resolve. “I will help you.”
“I hope that in the future, we et under this sky, not in the Underworld.”
She raised her hand and intertwined her fingers with his.
“And I hope we can always et.”
“You can rest assured.”
Rowe nodded.
“We will achieve victory.”
“And I will et you alive.”
There it was.
The flag planted.
Rowe lied, yet not entirely.
Because for him, death was never truly the end.
The night was long, and still it passed too quickly.
Ereshkigal returned to the Underworld.
Ishtar left as well.
Soon the sky began to pale.
Rowe sat alone in the courtyard. Enkidu slept peacefully against the table. Gilgash lay on the ground, snoring with the confidence of a man who believed the world owed him silence.
Rowe lifted his eyes toward the distant horizon.
Thunder roared.
Lightning split the heavens and fell in a spear of light.
Anu’s wrathful decree had finally taken effect.
Gilgash’s eyes snapped open.
Enkidu sat up.
“It is finally here…”
Rowe set his cup down and chuckled softly.
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