Chapter 114: Gilgamesh, I'll F**k Your Ancestors!
"Ah…"
So many questions crowded Rowe's chest that his throat felt tight. In the end, he only nodded.
Gilgamesh had changed, yet had not changed at all.
He had matured, yes, but he still wore the same posture and the same arrogance, like golden armor that never rusted. Rowe understood the reason without needing it spoken aloud.
Gilgamesh wanted to meet an old friend with an old face.
Rowe's successful arrival in the Underworld was already the first step of his goal. This reunion was unexpected, yet undeniably pleasant.
Gilgamesh, after all, was not Ereshkigal.
If he dared to casually slap some "immortal blessing" on Rowe, or tried to stop him from dying, Rowe could absolutely repay him with two solid punches.
Just to settle the score for that earlier habit of casually flinging Rowe's dark history around like it was a party trick.
And before that…
Visiting old places was a kind of journey, too.
Uruk had been Rowe's first stop after arriving in this world. In a sense, it was his second home.
Still, the confusion in his eyes did not disappear.
He knew Gilgamesh had ruled Uruk. He knew that in his later years, according to his own plan, the nation had entered the realm of the Underworld. He knew Gilgamesh eventually became the "King of Uruk, not a god."
What Rowe did not know was what Gilgamesh did after that.
He also did not understand why Gilgamesh was appearing in a region of the Underworld that clearly did not belong to Mesopotamia.
And from the way Gilgamesh spoke, it sounded like he had turned this place into his dominion.
Rowe did not have to wonder long.
"When I entered the Underworld, I did not stop the expansion I began on the surface. Not even for the domain you left behind."
Gilgamesh grinned, shamelessly proud, as if he were presenting a conquest instead of a theft.
"Even in the land of the dead, my radiance will burn like a scorching sun. I will bring the darkness itself beneath my rule."
So that was it.
Expansion.
Not on the surface this time, but within the Underworld.
That was what Gilgamesh had been doing all these years.
East to west, slowly, stubbornly, with the patience of a king who believed the world owed him obedience, he had carved out territory until he could claim it as his own.
And yes.
It was a portion of the Greek Underworld.
It had been obtained from the Greek King of Uruk.
Hades.
"AHAHAHAH. That Greek King of Uruk is indeed powerful, but with my wisdom, why would I ever confront him head on?"
Gilgamesh raised his chin slightly, as if the very concept of "equal exchange" existed only because he allowed it.
"Everything in this world belongs to me. However, those who guard my treasures should also receive what they are due."
"What did you give him?" Rowe asked, genuinely curious.
"The Sage's clay tablets," Gilgamesh replied, looking pleased with himself.
Rowe froze.
"…What?"
So this was how you tossed my clay tablets everywhere.
He had always suspected.
He had never imagined the scale of the crime.
"Since your mad dog's words have already been carved into tablets, how could they not be spread far and wide?" Gilgamesh showed no guilt at all. He looked proud, like a man praising his own generosity.
"Those Greek gods and humans praised them endlessly. I used them to trade for many fine things. AHAHAHAH!"
Rowe's temple twitched.
"Gilgamesh."
"Hm?"
"I'll f**k your ancestors."
Gilgamesh's eyes widened a fraction.
"How dares a brain dead idiot like you speak with such presumption before me?"
Rowe did not pause.
"You motherf**king mongrel Gilgamesh…."
It was obvious.
Gilgamesh had read those clay tablets and learned from them.
The bickering echoed through the depths of the Underworld, as familiar as breathing.
Yet setting aside the dark past, Rowe still had to admit something.
He admired the golden bastard in front of him.
Those clay tablets were precious largely because of Gilgamesh's actions while he was alive. He had wrapped them in mystery through sheer authority, making "Rowe's nonsense" sound like "Rowe's wisdom" in the mouths of others.
Then he went further.
While alive, he traded foul mouthed writings for "good things" from gods and humans alike.
After death, he traded them for a corner of the Underworld.
This Gilgamesh was truly something else.
"Those fools tried to stop my reunion with my friend," Gilgamesh said, still smug, like the entire world existed to serve his mood. "How could I let them succeed?"
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Hades, tried to block me from reaching this place just now. I threw out a clay tablet, and he obediently handed the domain over to me."
So it had only just happened.
No wonder Gilgamesh had not sensed Rowe's presence earlier.
He had been busy stealing property.
Rowe understood.
"Come." Gilgamesh turned, his cloak and arrogance moving as one. "Since you have returned, we will go see Uruk."
"Go see the glory of what you and I once built."
They walked deeper into the Underworld as they spoke.
Eerie blue flames flickered along the road like a ceremonial path. Soldiers in armor stood on both sides, guarding the border, their silent discipline forming a corridor of steel.
And in the depths, a magnificent city rose.
Uruk.
It looked like the royal city of old.
Buildings climbed upward. The palace stood at the core, unshaken. The streets carried a familiar geometry, as if someone had carved the memory of the surface into the bones of the dead.
As Rowe walked, a strange sensation rose in him.
He felt like he had returned to the Mesopotamian plain.
Back to the surface world where the three of them had built a nation together.
The people were there.
The things were there.
"It's good," Rowe said quietly.
"You have credit in building this city," Gilgamesh replied, glancing at him with a grin that almost looked warm. "I have always reserved a throne for you and that fellow."
"The achievements you forged were never beneath mine."
Whether past, present, or future, Gilgamesh regarded Rowe as the only one who could stand as his equal.
They reached the palace.
"King."
Someone had been waiting for a long time.
A young woman with a light veil over her face.
Siduri.
Siduri after her death.
The Grand Judge of Uruk's Underworld.
"Miss Siduri." Rowe lifted a hand. "Long time no see."
"Lord Rowe, it has indeed been a long time." Siduri smiled, dignified as ever. "It is wonderful to see you safe and sound."
She was happy. It was obvious.
Time had passed like a slow river in the land of death.
And still, her king had waited.
As the king's adjutant, she knew the truth. Gilgamesh's expansion in the Underworld, from beginning to end, had been for one purpose.
To await Rowe's return.
His Clairvoyance had shown him the scene.
He had prepared for it.
Only one thing was missing.
The three kings still lacked one seat.
"Enkidu?" Rowe said. "I've already found her. She will wake up soon, and then the three of us will finally reunite."
"I said I did not misjudge you." Gilgamesh nodded once, satisfied. "In heaven and earth, only you could find that fellow, my friend."
"Oh, King." Siduri stepped forward. "Hades, the King of Underworld, is already waiting for you in the hall."
Gilgamesh did not look surprised. He only waved his hand, as if being confronted by a god king was a minor nuisance.
Rowe, however, felt curiosity stir.
He had already met Zeus and Poseidon, two Greek god kings. Zeus's omnipotent supremacy and Poseidon's pure eternity had left deep impressions.
What would the third Greek god king be like?
Could he kill Rowe?
No. Rowe was already dead.
So it did not matter.
More than that, Rowe wanted to know why Hades had come.
Had he discovered the truth behind those clay tablets and come to demand an explanation?
God kings were different from ordinary gods.
Even if the tablets carried intense mystery, they should not be equal to a corner of the Underworld.
They climbed the towering steps into the palace, Siduri following closely behind.
Inside, everything was familiar.
The throne still stood high.
The pillars still stood firm.
The layout was almost unchanged.
Yet at the foot of the stairs, facing the throne, someone stood with his back to them.
Dark.
Deep.
Still.
A chill of deathly quiet radiated from him, as if the air itself refused to breathe.
The man heard them enter and turned his gaze slightly.
A pair of completely black eyes met them.
"King of Uruk," he said. "What is your intention in giving me these clay tablets?"
So he really had come to demand an explanation.
"A treasure that offers direct counsel to a king, carrying wisdom and courage." Hades's voice was calm, heavy, sincere. "How could such a thing be exchanged for a mere portion of the Underworld?"
Rowe silently revised his evaluation.
Take back what I said earlier.
This is a born donkey.
"AHAHAHAH." Gilgamesh laughed as if the question itself were comedy. "This is my gift. Its value is decided by me. If I say it is worth it, then it is worth it."
"Your words are not pleasant," Hades replied, utterly serious. "But I truly feel your magnanimity."
One dared to be a donkey.
The other dared to lead him like a donkey.
In some ways, they were a perfect match.
Rowe quietly stamped the Greek King of Uruk as an "honest man" in his heart.
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