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That young man-like god of disobedience, called Verethragna, the Eastern War God, has completely returned to myth.
Even the scattering divine blood, shimmering with rich gold and carrying a slight sense of oppression, gradually turned into golden light dust and vanished from this world.
Not to mention his body, not even a small corner of his clothes remained, as if he had never existed at all.
He has completely returned to the place where gods reside, called myth, and is, as if polishing his fists and waiting for action, preparing for the next, even more intense battle, and then, fiercely claiming that hard-won victory.
However, to say that not even a single trace remains is indeed extremely incorrect.
Without a doubt, the earth is already crisscrossed with ravines. Those tragic scars silently wept to the world, recounting the magnificent battle that just took place.
No, not just the earth.
The sky, the mountains, and even the sea hundreds of meters away.
Streaks of pitch-black marks covered them, then continued to fiercely tear them apart.
Those were the aftershocks left by Gilgamesh's strike, the so-called spatial fissures.
Without a doubt, this island is now incomparably devastated.
Seawater and air endlessly fill those spatial fissures. Moment by moment, the pitch-black fissures brought by the scarlet light swallow the vitality of this land.
Furthermore, that attack of such grand momentum just now completely tore the innocent town that had stood there into pieces and tossed it to the 'outside' of this world.
So, the king, standing high above, looking down on all living beings with contempt, undoubtedly destroyed the promise he had just made with his own hands.
There was nothing that could be done. Indeed, nothing could be done. No Noble Phantasm could withstand the power of 'White Horse.' To counteract it, one could only use equal, or even greater, overwhelming power to crush it fiercely.
The only thing capable of doing all this was Enuma Elish.
Even if Gilgamesh only activated less than one-tenth of Enuma Elish's output, the consequences were undeniably displayed before everyone.
That wasn't the power of an authority; it was his power, the power of the oldest of kings.
The mages, all the knights, including Lilianne*, not a single one dared to speak rashly about the king's mistake again.
No, perhaps it was because such a tragedy had already occurred, so any foolish counsel offered would be meaningless anyway.
However, this did not mean that Gilgamesh's heart was also calm.
Even though he regarded his subjects and his territories as his property, such wasteful behavior could not be condoned even by himself.
For this, a hint of annoyance appeared on Gilgamesh's face.
Annoyed at having lost face, annoyed at the innocent deaths of his subjects, annoyed at the foolish act he had committed himself.
His broad and strong hand, covered by golden armor, slightly clenched. An awkward atmosphere enveloped the king and his knights.
Undoubtedly, the scene that should have welcomed victory and resounded with joyous cheers was instead so awkward.
But, it didn't last long.
The proud king, in a tone slightly arrogant, spoke faintly to the knights kneeling halfway, their faces filled with endless fear.
"What are you waiting for now? Evacuate the people, treat the wounded, go and deal with it!"
He waved his hand faintly, issuing commands to the knights kneeling on the ground with an unquestionable tone.
Indeed, Gilgamesh was indeed a little annoyed.
However, no matter what the reason, even if it was a mistake he had committed himself, he had to make amends for it.
Because of his actions, Enkidu died, and for that, all the gods of Sumer* had to pay.
And the people who died in this disaster were naturally no exception.
He gently waved his arm, clad in armor like gold.
Then, a radiant golden ripple several meters wide spread in mid-air.
Piles of ornaments, cast from gold, without a trace of magic power, but exquisite, surged from within.
Perhaps they were merely embellishments within the Gate of Babylon, perhaps not even qualified to be included in the treasury itself, merely 'trash' used to fill empty spaces.
"Treat the survivors well, and grant generous compensation to the deceased. I imagine I don't need to teach you how to do this?"
Gilgamesh asked faintly. Although he used a questioning tone, no one would be foolish enough to question this king.
The knights bowed slightly, picked up the treasures scattered casually on the ground, and retreated from the spot.
Even though they had countless questions, even though they might want the king to put away his wealth.
However, the discipline and sense of honor as knights made them suppress their counsel, counsel that would perhaps be insulting to the king.
They had extremely important things to do. It wasn't as simple as just settling refugees. If they didn't want this matter to become headline news in newspapers, the effort they would have to put in would be considerable.
Moments later, these knights and mages, in absolute silence, without a single sound, all left this place.
Except for that resolute young girl.
Her silver hair, fluttering in the air, gently swayed, flashing with dazzling light.
Like a fairy, possessing both an incomparable, holy beauty that made one feel inferior, and at the same time a captivating and alluring demeanor that charmed all living beings.
She gently sighed, then a slight smile appeared on her face, but the tension in her eyes could not be hidden no matter what.
"My King, this is not your mistake, I have seen it."
The young girl said this, intending to comfort her king,
But,
All she received was a stern reprimand.
"As a king, if you don't even face your own sins, what right do you have to call yourself king!"
Gilgamesh said sharply, his tone filled with absolute arrogance.
"Attempting to cover up this King's mistake, to modify the sins this King has committed, and to erase everything that this King has performed as a miracle... Such a foolish act, do you think this King would do such a thing?"
He turned his back on Lilianne and walked towards the town that had been erased, his face devoid of any expression.
"This is no longer merely an act of great insubordination. I will spare you this time. Stand down, Lilianne-kun."
He said this, and then, listening to the footsteps of the silver-haired Knight Princess as she left, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl into an arc.
It was a smile of appreciation.
How long had it been since he encountered such a loyal subject?
However, this King is not a foolish person like Artoria*. Compensating for the king's mistakes should be the subjects' mission, but a king should never cover up his own sins.
As for denying one's own actions, that is already beyond what foolishness can encompass.
A king, should bear everything. If one cannot even do this, what right does one have to call oneself king?