On the second night in Snowfield City, Gilgamesh was patrolling the area, riding in a car driven by his Master.
In the far distance, a Dead Apostle and Father Hansa, an Executor from the Holy Church, were locked in a fierce clash.
“Heh…
quite an entertaining sideshow.” Gilgamesh lightly swirled the wine glass in his hand, the crimson liquid leaving captivating streaks along the crystal walls.
It had to be said that this particular Holy Grail War had far exceeded his expectations.
When he first materialized in this world, he thought it was nothing more than a boring farce.
He had even planned to drink his Potion of Youth to pass the time as a child, treating the whole affair as a casual royal inspection of the lower realm.
But surprises had come one after another.
First was his Master, the girl named Tine.
Though a mere child, she was pleasing enough to his eye.
Guiding and protecting such a young sprout wasn’t a bad way for a king to pass the time.
Then came the vampire species currently engaged in a death match with the priest in the distance.
This was a creature he hadn’t seen even during the Age of Gods, and it brought him a long-lost sense of novelty.
Yet, what brought him the greatest pleasure was the appearance of that distinct aura.
His dearest friend.
His sole counterpart.
Enkidu.
For heroic spirits engraved upon the Throne of Heroes, every reunion was a miracle.
And since this ultimate miracle had already occurred, he, as the King, would naturally enjoy this banquet and all its opening acts to the absolute fullest without a shred of restraint.
The corner of Gilgamesh’s mouth curled into an arrogant arc as he raised his glass, preparing to drain the wine in a single draft.
However, in that exact instant, his movements froze.
“…Hmm?”
Gilgamesh lowered his wine glass, his brows knitting tightly together.
Why?
Why was there a sudden presence in the street directly ahead that felt so incredibly familiar…
yet so deeply repulsive?
It wasn’t the familiarity of encountering an old acquaintance.
Rather, it felt as though he were standing before a distorted mirror, looking at another version of himself.
Yet, it was by no means a simple copy.
The aura felt like a Gilgamesh who had walked a completely different path—another possibility entirely.
“Stop.” Gilgamesh’s voice turned cold, carrying an unquestionable majesty.
“King?” Sensing Gilgamesh’s abnormal mood, Tine tensely signaled the driver to slam on the brakes, bringing the car to a halt in the middle of the road.
The moment the vehicle stopped, a figure stepped out from the darkness of the night ahead without warning.
When that figure came into clear view, the pupils of both Tine the Master and Gilgamesh the Servant constricted to their absolute limits at the exact same time.
Standing under the streetlights was a tall, well-built young man.
He possessed the exact same brilliant golden hair as Gilgamesh, but his attire was entirely different.
He wore a set of heavy Uruk battle armor covered in the scars of combat.
Slung crosswise over his back were two oversized greatswords that radiated wild, violent waves of magical energy.
But what fueled Gilgamesh’s rage and disbelief the most were the golden ripples slowly shimmering into existence behind the man.
That golden light, fluctuating like water, was unmistakably the treasury that symbolized the absolute authority of the King of Heroes—the Gate of Babylon.
That appearance left no room for doubt.
“Yo.
Good evening, everyone.”
The man stopped walking, his lips parting into a bright, casual smile.
He looked almost exactly like another Gilgamesh, yet his eyes lacked that characteristic arrogance that looked down upon all living things, devoid of the absolute desire for dominion that viewed everything under heaven as his personal property.
In his eyes, there was only a burning desire and excitement for an unknown battle.
“Faker…” Gilgamesh’s expression turned utterly dark.
The space behind him instantly distorted as dozens of golden ripples snapped open like angry eyes.
Swords, spears, lances, and halberds—all manners of divine weaponry from the Age of Gods—extended their sharp tips, locking onto the man ahead.
“How dare you imitate this King?”
“Well, things seem a bit tense, so I should probably introduce myself first.” The man didn’t seem to feel the murderous intent directed at him at all.
He casually reached back and gripped the hilt of one of his greatswords, speaking in a relaxed tone.
“My name isn’t really important.
Of course, if you find that name too unfamiliar, you can also call me by my name from another timeline…”
Swish—!!!
Before Li Xiang could finish his sentence, Gilgamesh ruthlessly delivered his judgment.
Three Noble Phantasms flashing with cold light tore through the air with deafening sonic booms, aimed directly at Li Xiang’s head, heart, and abdomen.
Yet, faced with this lethal volley, Li Xiang merely let out a light chuckle.
Clang—Boom!
Accompanied by a deafening clash of metal, sparks exploded into the night sky.
Li Xiang’s sword-drawing speed was impossibly fast.
The heavy greatsword felt as light as a feather in his grip.
With a single, simple horizontal sweep, he forcefully batted the three Noble Phantasms away.
The immense kinetic force caused the surrounding ground to crack instantly, yet he himself didn’t retreat even half a step.
Resting the greatsword over his shoulder, Li Xiang paid no mind to Gilgamesh’s murderous glare and calmly finished his interrupted introduction:
“Gilgamesh.”
“That’s right.
From the perspective of a certain possibility, I suppose I can count as Gilgamesh too.” The smile on Li Xiang’s face gradually faded, replaced by a pure, unadulterated fighting spirit.
He raised his greatsword, pointing the tip directly at the furious King of Heroes ahead.
This was the kind of battle he wanted to experience!
A life completely different from his previous one!
Yes, Li Xiang was a transmigrator.
In his past life, disease had cut his time short just as he was reaching the prime of his youth.
Although his previous life had been quite fulfilling, he still harbored deep regrets when he passed away—regrets of wanting to see more of the universe.
He never expected that the moment he closed his eyes and opened them again, he would arrive in the world known as the Nasuverse, which he had only ever known through fiction.
Even more excitingly, he had been granted a system—a system that allowed him to extract possibilities by coming into contact with specific items.
By doing so, he could obtain the corresponding characters’ Personalities, inherit their abilities, and experience their stories.
To his ultimate delight, his arrival point happened to be the exact location where Gilgamesh had been summoned.
Furthermore, right when he landed, Gilgamesh had just discarded the key that served as his summoning catalyst.
With things handed to him like that, what else could Li Xiang say?
Thus, he obtained Gilgamesh’s Personality.
By experiencing and unlocking the depths of this possibility, he unleashed the immense, peerless power of the King of Heroes.
Now armed with such strength and fully prepared to live his second life to the absolute limit, he had only one singular thought in his mind:
I want to see for myself if Gilgamesh is really as tough as they say.
And so, just like that, he went out to find Gilgamesh.