In that frozen moment of time, Erold stood in shock, his gaze locked onto the empty blue eyes of the entity known as "Death."
Within Erold’s mind, Dante sensed something approaching the horizon at a frantic speed. He roared in Erold’s consciousness: "Something is coming! Lightning fast!"
In that critical second, the nearby Black Forest shook. The sound of heavy, calm, and confident footsteps approached amidst the terrified silence of the wilderness. The creatures of the forest were shrieking in absolute fear; a monster even more powerful and terrifying was about to emerge. The trees swayed violently.
Then, Gilgamesh stepped out from between the trees. He appeared as if he were merely taking a stroll, despite the monster blood staining his hands. He surveyed the scene: a shell-shocked Erold and a terrifying entity.
Gilgamesh did not attack immediately. He stopped, narrowed his golden eyes, and spoke in a deep, calm voice: "What do we have here? This is no ordinary opponent."
The entity of "Death" turned toward the newcomer. For the first time, a glimmer of interest sparkled in its vacant blue eyes. It whispered in a tone that carried the echo of ages: "Oh... the scent of Immortality. How have you been, my little friend Gilgamesh?"
Erold shouted in a raspy voice as he tried to rise: "Gilgamesh! Fall back! Do not attack! He is Death itself... he will kill you if you challenge him!"
Gilgamesh ignored Erold’s warning. Instead, a cold and provocative smile formed on his lips. He spoke with a calm voice that hid a brewing storm: "Fall back? I do not retreat before anyone... even if Death himself has manifested to seek my favor."
Suddenly, Gilgamesh's body exploded with an overwhelming Golden Aura that illuminated the darkness of the forest, dispelling the shadows. The golden halo behind his back rippled and manifested into four massive arms of pure energy, moving with terrifying fluidity. In the middle of his forehead, his skin split open to reveal a third golden eye, radiating a sharp, concentrated light that tracked every atom of movement in existence.
Gilgamesh lunged like a golden meteor. His six arms lunged toward Death in a crushing assault from every direction. But the entity, without changing its cold expression or even raising its small sword, slipped through the space as if it were smoke. It tilted its torso in a simple, smooth motion; Gilgamesh’s devastating fists passed by with a hair’s breadth of distance, the entity evading with absolute mastery.
Gilgamesh did not stop. He increased the speed of his assault, turning the air around them into a hell of explosions. Whenever one of his golden arms brushed against a tree behind the Entity of Death, it flashed with brilliant white light before exploding into atomic dust, creating a booming sound that shook the earth. His power was horrifying: a single touch meant annihilation.
The entity continued to dodge with provocative calmness, tilting its head left and right, while Gilgamesh pursued him manically, his explosive fists striking the void and destroying everything around the entity without ever touching him.
At the peak of the assault, in a lightning-fast motion, the tip of one finger from a golden arm managed to graze the entity's cheek.
Gilgamesh stopped abruptly and retreated, panting, while the entity stood still. The entity slowly raised its hand to its face and wiped its cheek with a finger, seeing a tiny drop of shimmering silver liquid... a simple scratch.
The entity looked at its finger, then a wide smile spread across its face. It let out a light chuckle that shook Erold’s soul. "A scratch?... No one has touched me for eons, and you succeed in scratching me?"
The entity’s tone suddenly shifted from mockery to absolute seriousness. The smile vanished, replaced by a terrifying frown. Its blue eyes widened with a conquering glow. It spoke in a deep voice: "But... the play is over now. Kneel."
He didn't touch him. He didn't raise his weapon. It was just a word, accompanied by a massive, invisible pressure that descended from the sky like the weight of all the mountains combined.
The entity laughed in a low, provocative voice. "I was going to reward you for that scratch... but what a weak thi—"
Its voice stopped abruptly. Its disdain vanished. Death felt a disturbance in the "Aura of Annihilation" it imposed—a weight that no mortal should be able to bear was being broken. He turned slowly to see the unexpected.
Gilgamesh was trembling, his bones making horrific cracking sounds under the immense pressure, but... he stood. With a will that transcended the limits of logic, Gilgamesh conquered the entity’s pressure and stood at his full height, his eyes burning with unquenchable fires, challenging existence itself.
Death’s blue eyes widened in genuine amazement. He muttered in a voice carrying a strange hint of admiration: "I didn't make you my favorite for nothing..."
Gilgamesh didn't wait to hear more. He lunged with a roar that shook the forest, gathering every atom of remaining energy in his body, turning himself into a human projectile for one final suicide attack.
But this time, Death did not dodge. He didn't use his strange sword. With clear boredom and a lightning-fast movement, the entity raised its hand and delivered a simple strike with the back of its palm—a basic blow, devoid of any magic or complex technique.
The blow was enough. Gilgamesh’s body slammed into the ground with a force that shattered the rocks beneath him. His golden light vanished completely, leaving him lying there, gasping, blood flowing from his mouth, unable to move a single finger.
The entity looked down at him coldly and said with absolute certainty: "You know in your heart that this is futile, Gilgamesh... no matter how much you resist, I will not reap your soul."
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Gilgamesh, who was eerily calm, looked at the entity with cold eyes as his body began to regenerate. He spoke with a voice carrying the bitterness of years: "I didn't expect to see you wandering outside your dark kingdom... old man."
The entity smiled a pale smile. "And I didn't expect to see my favorite curse taking a stroll here... do you still carry the burden of immortality, I see? Have you not missed me yet?"
Gilgamesh clenched his fist until the veins bulged. He knew... he knew that fighting here was useless. "I’ve missed you dearly... but you refuse to welcome me whenever I knock on your door."
"Death" let out a faint laugh, its sound like the rustling of dead autumn leaves. "Patience, my little friend... you want rest, don't you? You want to close your eyes and never open them again, like any mortal old man."
The entity approached Gilgamesh and placed the cold hilt of its sword on his chest. It spoke with a voice dripping with cunning: "I shall give you a gift for causing that scratch."
Gilgamesh’s heart glowed with a strange flash, then suddenly extinguished, leaving him feeling the coldness of time flowing through his veins for the first time in an age. Gilgamesh looked at his hands in daze, feeling something coursing through him.
"Have I... have I become mortal?" Gilgamesh asked eagerly.
Death stepped back and began to vanish. He smiled and said, "I won't tell you. Discover it for yourself; I don't want to spoil my game."
Death vanished, and a heavy silence followed. The air was still cold, and gravity gradually returned to normal. Gilgamesh stood amidst the wreckage, staring at his hands; that coldness in his veins... was it life, or the beginning of the end? He shouted into the void with a mix of anger and longing: "You bastard! Come back here! Don't leave me in doubt!"
But Death was gone.
Erold approached him. "Are you alright, Gilgamesh?" He looked at the frustrated Gilgamesh slumped on the ground. "Don't worry, friend... we’ll find a solution to your problem."
Gilgamesh replied sharply, "As if you know what my 'problem' even is."
Erold placed his hands on Gilgamesh's shoulders and smiled calmly. "Yes, friend, I know... I’ve seen your immortality before. I thought it was something originating from your own Soul World."
In amazement, Gilgamesh looked at Erold. "Soul World? Did I use my Soul World on you while you were alive? Impossible!"
"Yes," Erold replied calmly. "Don't you remember the tavern? 'The Stupor of Death'?"
Gilgamesh’s body stiffened. His eyes widened in a daze that paralyzed him. He shouted, "How do you know that name?!"
Erold tried to calm him. "Easy, man! When I first met you, someone stabbed you while you were drunk, and you used it."
Gilgamesh put his hand to his head in shock. Erold continued in a calm tone: "You were drinking and dancing there. There was even a girl hugging you... with curly brown hair."
Gilgamesh interrupted him with desperation and ragged breaths: "Were her eyes wide and the color of warm amber?"
Erold shouted enthusiastically, "Yessss! Exactly!"
Suddenly, Gilgamesh fell onto his back, closing his eyes as he drowned in hysterical laughter—but a laughter overflowing with tenderness. He whispered in a voice trembling with happiness: "Ah, my dear! You were by my side all this time! You were inside your world! You were here with me! So... that thing that merged with me in the dungeon was you... I feel terrible that you had to see this side of me, my dear!"
Erold was puzzled. "What has happened to you, man?"
Gilgamesh replied with a touch of madness: "I do not possess a world named 'The Stupor of Death'! That is the world of my late wife, Elia!"
Gilgamesh collapsed with a smile on his face, spreading his arms wide and looking up at the sky as if to embrace it. He laughed and murmured, "The condition has been triggered... That is why I kept drinking, even though I hated it. That is why my resolve was so weak; because I only see you when I am drunk... Isn't that right, Elia?"
At this, Arthur emerged angrily: "There is so much we don't know about each other, guys! Are we really friends?"
Gilgamesh laughed. "Buddy, everyone has their secrets."
Arthur said slyly, "Don't you think it's time to reveal them? I could tell you Erold’s secrets."
"Get back inside, you bastard!" Erold shouted. "Why don't you tell him your secrets?"
"My secrets are private, Erold," Arthur said coldly. "Respect my privacy!"
Arthur returned to Erold’s body. Erold asked seriously: "So, Gilgamesh, what is your Soul World?"
Gilgamesh smiled. "My world?... Believe me, Erold, you don't want to see it. The world you saw was a beautiful dream... but my world is the nightmare that even Death flees from."
Erold was astonished and said, "Right... regarding your immortality, Gilgamesh, haven't you tried to break it by force? You are powerful enough to scratch the Entity of Death itself; isn't it only logical that you could break this immortality?"
Gilgamesh sighed and said, "Unfortunately, my immortality is endless when it comes to regeneration. But this regeneration does not come without a price; it drains my energy and exhausts me."
Gilgamesh’s eyes gleamed as a memory struck him, "I remember when I was in a terrible state, which made General Mandul whisper to me that day: 'My Prince, if your wish is death, I cannot just stand by and watch you suffer... I will execute whatever you command.' On that day, Mandul severed my head forty times, leaving me with absolutely no strength to move. I was like a lifeless object, unable to stir; every single time he tried to cut off my head, it regenerated. That is when we realized that even if my body collapses from exhaustion, the regeneration will never stop."
Erold was shocked and murmured with sorrow, "Don't worry, my friend... we will find a way out of this." Gilgamesh offered a faint smile.
Suddenly, Gilgamesh stopped, his features hardening. He turned toward the nearby mountain and shouted, "Erold! Follow me!"
He took off with lightning speed. When Erold arrived, he found Gilgamesh kneeling near a body lying on the sand. Erold rushed forward, recognizing the figure. It was Luce.
"Luce! Are you okay?!" Erold cried out.
Silence fell for a moment as they looked at the unconscious Luce. As the sky began to rain heavily, Gilgamesh raised his head and looked toward the horizon, where the shadows of the towers of the Kingdom of Malakarsh loomed. Faint, thin wisps of smoke rose from them, as if its great fires had just been extinguished, leaving nothing but ash.
Gilgamesh said in a firm voice: "We cannot stay in the open. We have an injured man... we must enter that kingdom."
A dry, hacking cough broke the silence. Erold turned quickly to Luce, who began to open his eyelids slowly and with great struggle. Erold leaned over him, worry gnawing at his features. Luce looked at him with exhausted eyes, pale and sickly, but despite his weakness, a spark of genuine joy shone in his gaze. He said in a faint voice: "I am happy to see you... Erold."
Erold held his shoulders gently. "As am I, pal. What happened to you?"
Luce coughed again, his eyes clouding with a strange blur. "I don't remember anything clearly... all I know is that I fought a fierce battle against something... something I’ve never seen the likes of... until I fell here, unconscious."
Erold couldn't contain himself; he rushed to embrace Luce tightly, guilt weighing on his chest like mountains. "I’m sorry, my friend, for leaving you all. I am truly sorry."
Luce smiled a pale but reassuring smile and placed his trembling hand on Erold’s arm. "No need for apologies, my friend... what matters now... is that you are here."
As soon as he spoke his final words, Luce’s head slumped, and he lost consciousness once more. Erold shouted his name in panic, but there was no answer.
Gilgamesh intervened with his steady, cold voice, watching the horizon cautiously: "He has fainted; his body needs rest. We must leave. We cannot stay here in the open. Let's go."
Quickly, Erold lifted Luce’s frail body onto his back and began walking beside Gilgamesh toward the silent gates of the Kingdom of Malakarsh. It stood before them like the mouth of a beast, waiting to receive its victims.