Enkidu quickly regained his composure. Thanks to Gilgamesh, he could commit to the battle in earnest.
The problem, however, was Gilgamesh herself.
Although she had rebuked Enkidu with her characteristic confidence, Gilgamesh could not steady her own heart.
A vile monster created by the gods.
Its name was Humbaba.
But Gilgamesh recognized it at a glance.
Its other name was Marduk.
It was Gilgamesh who had given him that name.
Even if the world were to fall, she alone could never forget Marduk.
And so, she despaired. She was at a loss.
Gilgamesh's mind went completely blank.
Dazed, she even forgot to don her armor, firing her treasures under the sole thought that she had to fight.
Her opponent was a guardian of the gods, its beastly power unleashed.
What would be the end of one who could not focus in battle? Gilgamesh knew, yet she could not concentrate.
Her carelessness was not born of arrogance, but of confusion.
The price was bitter.
“Gil! Be careful!”
“An attack like this… is nothing!”
A massive claw crushed Gilgamesh's shoulder.
Its sharpness went without saying, but it was the sheer size of the massive claw that mangled her body.
Gilgamesh let out a groan and swung her sword.
Humbaba easily dodged her attack.
The situation was desperate.
Enkidu's attacks, transforming the very earth, could not pierce Humbaba's hide and were deflected. The same was true for Gilgamesh's treasures.
Humbaba possessed seven auras of rainbow light.
That radiant light made the beast all the more powerful.
Among the powers of the aura, a gift from the gods, was the power of petrification.
“Don't stay in its line of sight for too long! You'll turn to stone!”
“A petrification curse. What a despicable trick...!”
She took out a shield just in case, but even that was turned into a mere lump of stone.
As a demigod, Gilgamesh had some resistance to petrification, and the same was true for Enkidu, who was made of clay.
But the moment their movements were restricted,
Humbaba's massive hand would surely crush them.
Imagining herself meeting her end, crushed in its hand, Gilgamesh's face twisted.
“That cannot be. I, of all people, cannot be feeling such an emotion.”
The name of the emotion growing in a corner of Gilgamesh's heart was,
none other than fear.
The fear of death began to eat away at her mind.
Her hands trembling, Gilgamesh called out to Enkidu.
It was truly humiliating, and infuriating, but it couldn't be helped.
“We are retreating! For now, there is no way to defeat it!”
“Are you serious, Gil?!”
Enkidu, who had been dodging the claws with a backflip, was aghast.
The Gilgamesh he knew would never run away.
She was the kind of person who would rather die than bend her pride.
That was why Enkidu accepted Gilgamesh's proposal.
It meant the situation was just that desperate.
“I cannot summon Vimana! Run!”
“Okay!”
The beast had no intention of letting them go.
It gave chase, running on all fours.
After a short but long pursuit, the two managed to escape the forest.
“...It seems it can't come out of the forest.”
“It must be the barrier. Those foolish gods. Do they not even have the ability to control the beast they created?”
Gilgamesh and Enkidu scoffed at the gods.
Then, as if by silent agreement, they both fell silent.
The situation was too grim to be dismissed with laughter.
“What's your plan, Gil?”
Marduk had become Humbaba, the guardian of the forest.
He could never regain his former self.
No magus of this era could turn him back.
He wasn't sick; he had simply been turned into a monster.
“I will kill it.”
And a monster must be slain by a hero.
Gilgamesh spoke with a facade of calm, but her friend had already seen through to her heart.
Instead of offering words of comfort, Enkidu clenched his fists.
“Yes. The two of us, let's give Humbaba peace.”
“...I do not engage in such noble acts. I will slay it simply because it is a monster.”
It was merely an opportunity to humble the gods, Gilgamesh boasted.
Seeing that bravado, Enkidu somehow felt a sense of relief.
“You're planning to use Ea, aren't you?”
“Of course. But first, we must remove the seven auras. Do you have any good ideas?”
“I am a simple weapon. Devising schemes is not my specialty.”
“Hmph. Did you not learn a thing or two in the forest? Think carefully.”
Enkidu clutched his head. He recalled, one by one, the things Marduk had taught him.
War. Battle. Deception. A messy fight. Attacking the east while pointing to the west...
Recalling more and more detailed items, he searched for the most useful method.
And finally, Enkidu succeeded in remembering that method.
“What is it? You don't look pleased.”
“Well. I thought of a good method, but I won't do it.”
“What? Then do you intend to just leave that thing as it is? Such weak words. It's not like you.”
Gilgamesh pecked at Enkidu fiercely.
But Enkidu paid her no mind, still facing Humbaba, who was staring at him from within the barrier.
His golden hair and red eyes were long gone.
It was a monster that could no longer be called Marduk.
And yet, Enkidu hesitated.
The plan was utterly vile,
a trick far too dirty for a hero.
Enkidu spoke softly.
“Marduk. Is it alright if I use your dream?”
“...Enkidu. It seems I too have realized the method you just thought of.”
Gilgamesh's atmosphere grew calm and subdued.
She was looking at Enkidu.
At none other than his pale green eyes.
Lowering her head for a moment, Gilgamesh shook off the final thoughts from her mind and once again raised her head high.
“The sin is mine, Enkidu. This is the causality I began, so I shall be the one to bear it.”
“No, Gil. There must be another way.”
“Silence. This is the plan I devised; no better method exists. You will simply follow my words.”
She was proud and defiant, but in Enkidu's eyes, she looked nothing but pitiful.
Enkidu had learned that when love turns to hatred, it becomes the most terrible emotion of all.
Since Marduk had only ever spoken of his own experiences, Enkidu had only heard of such a terrible past secondhand.
But what if one were to become the subject of it?
To be abandoned by the one you love, to curse them, to hurt them again, and to betray them?
It was the worst thing an individual could do to another.
“Are you worried about me, Enkidu?”
“You'll be hated for your entire life, and even after you die. The world may remember you as a villainess.”
Enkidu did not want Gilgamesh to be remembered as a demon, but as the King of Heroes.
But Gilgamesh scoffed, refuting Enkidu's words.
“Your first statement is correct, but the latter is not. The world will not remember.”
“Why?”
“It is because I, myself, laid the curse. No one can escape my curse. There are no exceptions, and it never fails.”
Gilgamesh, overconfident in her abilities.
It was a relationship that had gone wrong long, long ago.
Marduk and Gilgamesh had been fated for this.
There was no turning back.
Therefore, she would endure it. She would bear it.
Gilgamesh declared that she would accept all of the beast's resentment.
But Enkidu refuted her words.
Being alone is too lonely. Enkidu knew that fact well.
“I won't let you walk alone, Gil.”
“So you intend to follow. I will not stop you.”
Enkidu vowed deep in his heart to share as much of the burden his friend would carry as he possibly could.
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