Following that first meeting within the dreamscape, Gilgamesh continued his usual routine, processing state affairs with breathtaking efficiency, leaving behind robust blueprints for Uruk’s development, and immediately slipping away with his greatswords to seek adventure.
However, a new, permanent fixture had been added to his routine.
Every single time he returned to Uruk from an excursion, he would lie flat upon his bed in the dead of night, actively letting his soul drift down to the deepest basin of the Underworld.
He went to keep his promise, to tell her of his latest adventures.
He shared how he had crushed a particular magical beast in a swamp that day, or what bizarre and fascinating artifact he had unearthed from a ruin, or some mundane gossip he had overheard while passing through a remote village.
As it happened, in his past life, Li Xiang had possessed exceptional eloquence and literary talent.
Combined with the fact that he was now personally experiencing these legendary, mythic clashes, what could have been dry, factual reports were spun through his lips into a series of gripping, epic fantasy blockbusters.
And every single time, Ereshkigal would sit upon her throne, cradling her chin in her hands like a well-behaved child listening to a bedtime story, hanging on his every word with absolute focus.
Her eyes would shimmer and dance along with the rising and falling actions of his tales, bursting into gasps of wonder or soft laughter.
In an environment like this, the distance between them shrank at an astonishing speed.
Concurrently, Gilgamesh noticed a distinct trend.
With each subsequent visit to the Underworld, he found that the realm of death appeared to be undergoing a subtle transformation.
To be precise, it was becoming increasingly hospitable.
Though the overarching landscape retained its eerie, monochrome tones, clusters of strange moss that radiated a soft, soothing blue luminescence had somehow sprouted in the corners of the great hall, right beside the stone chair he usually occupied.
Creeping vines native to the Underworld, bearing tiny, pale blossoms, now coiled around the rigid obsidian pillars, having been transplanted from god-knows-where.
Even the stone chair he sat on had been lined with a thick, plush cushion.
This was absolutely not the result of natural evolution within the Underworld.
It could only mean that a certain tsundere goddess, wanting her sole friend to have a slightly less depressing environment when sharing his stories, was secretly putting in her best effort behind the scenes.
Watching Ereshkigal feign absolute nonchalance while continuously stealing glances out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction, Gilgamesh laughed inwardly.
He chose not to ruthlessly pierce the maiden’s fragile pride, but instead leaned comfortably against the cushion, continuing to tell her of the warm sunlight that bathed the surface world.
The days bled into weeks, and the weeks into years.
As time marched forward, Gilgamesh fully matured into a man.
His physical strength and baseline vitality swelled to an increasingly terrifying degree.
To vent this boundless pool of energy, the duration of his solo excursions grew longer, and his exploits became grander and more shocking by the day.
At this point, watching his unbridled actions from above, the deities of the heavens finally snapped.
“The time has come.”
They deployed their crafted equalizer down to the mortal realm.
The entity endowed with the divine mandate did not immediately march upon Uruk after setting foot upon the earth.
Like a blank sheet of paper, it lived among the wild beasts of the wilderness for a time, wandering the plains.
After gradually grasping the concepts of the mortal world and the forms of living things, it finally walked toward its fated destination—Uruk.
One day, at dusk.
Just as Gilgamesh concluded a magnificent hunt and arrived before Uruk’s grand gates in high spirits, his footsteps ground to a halt.
Standing quietly before the gates of Uruk was a solitary figure.
It was an entity possessing long, verdant green hair, clad in a pristine, snow-white robe.
Its facial features transcended gender, possessing a breathtaking beauty that could only be a masterpiece of the gods, yet its eyes held a frigid, piercing aura of execution.
There was absolutely no need for words.
In the exact millisecond their gazes intersected, the green-haired entity lightly raised its hand, and the earth beneath them bubbled and surged like a living creature.
Countless sharp spears crafted from solid earth broke through the surface, blotting out the sky as they shot toward Gilgamesh in a thunderous volley.
“Oh?”
Gilgamesh didn’t display a single shred of panic.
Without even detaching the massive hunting trophy slung across his back, his hands snapped backward, drawing his twin broad greatswords in an instant.
Accompanied by a series of sharp, deafening sonic booms, the incoming earthen spears were forcefully smashed into clouds of swirling dust the moment they collided with the sheer, monstrous physical strength driving his blades.
“Who are you?”
Gilgamesh crossed his greatswords before his chest, feeling a long-lost, satisfying numbness rippling through his arms.
The corners of his mouth split into a wild, feral grin.
The green-haired entity opposite him tilted its head slightly, introducing itself:
“Enkidu.”
“Do you harbor a death wish?” Gilgamesh tilted an eyebrow, the battle intent in his eyes erupting like a blazing wildfire.
“The one who will cease to exist is you,” Enkidu replied serenely.
The earth behind it violently churned once more, shifting and multiplying into hundreds upon thousands of glinting, razor-sharp chains and divine armaments.
“Splendid!
Let us dance!”
With Gilgamesh’s roaring declaration, the two figures charged across the plains before Uruk’s gates, colliding head-on like a pair of falling meteors!
An indescribable shockwave blasted outward with the two of them at the absolute epicenter.
The booming thunder of their clash sounded like the unified fury of the gods, echoing across every corner of Uruk.
The garrison soldiers atop the ramparts and the citizens within the walls flooded to high vantage points, watching this cataclysmic, natural-disaster-level collision with wide eyes and dropped jaws.
Their King had always unilaterally pulverized everything in his path single-handedly.
Yet today, they were witnessing an entity capable of trading blows with their absolute sovereign in a high-intensity, front-facing brawl!
Gilgamesh’s figure blurred into countless afterimages across the battlefield, every single strike packing enough cataclysmic force to cleave mountains and shatter faults.
Enkidu, meanwhile, displayed a fluid, mind-boggling capability to alter its form, its vessel shifting seamlessly between solid earth and razor-sharp weaponry as its infinite chains clashed and roared against Gilgamesh’s greatswords.
Their battle raged continuously for three full days and three full nights.
The earth was torn to ribbons, rivers were blocked and redirected, and the entire plain stretching before Uruk’s gates was physically sheared down by an entire layer.
Even the deities resting high within the celestial heavens couldn’t help but turn their sights downward, watching this unprecedented, historic war unfold.
To give credit where it was due, watching these two entities engage in such a raw, unadulterated, and thoroughly satisfying battle was a magnificent, aesthetically pleasing spectacle even for the gods.
However, the singular problem was…
As the deities continued to watch, a collective question mark slowly formed over their heads.
Something seemed to be veering off script.
The original purpose behind fashioning Enkidu was for it to serve as a literal chain—an instrument to reprimand, restrain, and bind the chaotic Gilgamesh, forcing him to settle down and behave!
But looking at their current status…
how should one even describe it?
Aren’t these two individuals getting increasingly hyperactive and thrilled the longer they fight?
Furthermore, has Enkidu—a literal doll crafted from clay—somehow been corrupted by that blonde bastard over the course of these three days of mutual battering?
Because right at this moment, within Enkidu’s originally cold, vacant green eyes, a fierce fire was burning—one that was an exact, mirror image of the fire in Gilgamesh’s eyes.
And upon that flawlessly beautiful face, a sweeping smile brimming with a deep yearning for battle had materialized.
The divine weapon has been led astray, you fools!
When the curtains finally fell upon the battle, the surrounding plains had been thoroughly transformed into a wasteland of interlocking craters.
Accompanied by one final physical collision driven purely by raw instinct, the two figures flew backward, crashing onto the earth and sprawling flat on their backs like giant X-marks.
After a long, agonizing pause, Gilgamesh dragged himself up, shaking as he emerged from the deep crater first.
He gasped heavily for air, drenched from head to toe in blood, yet his eyes flashed with a brilliant, unprecedented luminescence.
He walked over to the unmoving Enkidu.
Looking down at this weapon who had been battered out of shape by his fists, but who had also left his own head covered in bruises, Gilgamesh suddenly bared his teeth and burst into a hearty, magnificent laugh.
He extended a broad hand toward the clay doll resting on the ground, gesturing for it to take his grip.
“Splendid!
Truly magnificent!”
“You, my friend, are the absolute greatest opponent I have ever faced!”
Gilgamesh looked down into those green eyes, which were gradually regaining their serene clarity, and loudly proclaimed:
“Since neither of us can kill the other, let us abandon this boring notion of being mortal enemies!
Let us become friends!”
“Stay here.
Remain within Uruk as my right hand, and journey with me to witness the infinite array of fascinating stories this universe has to offer!
What do you say?!”
Staring up at the broad palm hovering above him, Enkidu went still.
Then, the corners of its eyes crinkled softly, revealing a gentle, radiant smile that was no longer fueled by the frenzy of combat, but born from the absolute depths of its heart.
It reached out, firmly grasping Gilgamesh’s hand.
“Yes…
If it is with you, I would be delighted.”