11 Babylon (9): A King, A Hunter.

Dropping by to let you know that the Babylon arc has concluded on (P)(A)(T), and Hunter and Doll have resumed their journey...

Well, if you'd like to support me or simply read three chapters ahead, both in the Devas' story and Hunter's story, you can find those three chapters on my (P)(A)(T) for just 2 dollars.

If not, still, thank you for reading my stories. I appreciate it!

As always, have a good night and happy reading!

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori

[...]---[...]

POV: Third person.

It had been a month since Enkidu had been cursed by the gods. After the Hunter purified him from the divine curse, life seemed to return to normal in Uruk, with everyone resuming their activities.

Despite repeated inquiries, Enkidu insisted he couldn't remember anything after falling asleep, leaving Gilgamesh with a raised eyebrow of curiosity. However, this was overshadowed by the relief the king felt.

It was only the second time in his life that Gilgamesh experienced such an emotion.

Enkidu was fully recovered, better than ever, especially now that the creation of the gods was out of his direct reach. He had lost the connection that tied him to his creators, who, for some reason, were quieter than ever.

Never before had the gods been so silent, not interacting with the world or their followers. This was noticed by many, especially by Gilgamesh and Enkidu. The latter actively chose to ignore the occurrence...

"You asked Siduri to summon me." It wasn't a question; the Hunter simply commented as he approached Gilgamesh, who was leaning on one of the many balconies of the palace, observing the city below like a distant observer.

Uruk at night was a breathtaking sight, illuminated by torches and crystals that shone like small stars. Even at night, the city retained its brilliance.

"I did," replied the king, aware it wasn't a question, but boredom compelled him to speak. "I need to discuss some things with you." Gilgamesh didn't turn around and continued gazing at Uruk, a gesture mirrored by the Hunter.

Uruk was a beautiful city, something the Hunter had known for a long time, much more beautiful than Yharnam had been in its later years, perhaps even in its days of glory.

The two remained silent, the Hunter waiting for the king to speak, and Gilgamesh just observing his subjects walking through his city at night, living their lives...

"What is your opinion on immortality?" Gilgamesh asked after what seemed like hours of silence but was only a few minutes in reality.

The Hunter showed no reaction to the king's question and remained silent for a few seconds before speaking.

"I didn't think you would ask something like that." The Hunter avoided seeing more than a moment in time; it was something that made things dull. "It's also not your style to seek advice."

"I don't care about what happened to the gods," retorted Gilgamesh with scorn, his voice containing a cold anger. "I'm not a fool either, Hunter. I'll seek other opinions if necessary, but in the end, all that matters is my decision." The king didn't change his position or avert his gaze.

Neither of them did, from the outside, it might seem like an uncomfortable conversation for an observer, but both the king and the hunter were beyond that.

"A curious way of thinking," the Hunter's voice was melodic, not commenting on anything divine.

The Hunter had done nothing with the gods, yet...

Ishtar indicated she wanted possession of Doll, receiving a fate that the goddess would find as bad as, if not worse than, death.

Sealed in the heavens, Ishtar couldn't interact with anyone, mortal or immortal. Her desires couldn't be fulfilled, prevented from touching another being.

Unable to touch the earth, the soil, a part of her being groaned in pain, her authority as the goddess of fertility and harvest suffering and being suppressed.

The uncertainty of everything was the worst thing for Ishtar, as, for the first time, not even her father could help, Anu being helpless, unable to even touch his beloved daughter.

Such an act, combined with the death of Gugalanna, angered the god of heaven, ordering that Enkidu be punished, as he himself lacked the courage to descend and punish Gilgamesh alongside the king's best friend.

Something scared the god; he knew what, but he didn't even say it out loud, his shame and anger being greater than his prudence.

"Do you have time?" Instead of answering, the Hunter asked a question. "If yes, I have an answer to your question." The Hunter knew where the king's question came from but chose not to say anything.

Almost losing someone was something the Hunter could empathize with, even though for him, it wasn't just "almost"...

"Siduri will know what to do in my absence." Gilgamesh stood up, diverting his eyes from Uruk for the first time since the conversation had begun. "Show the way." The king spoke, knowing that the Hunter wanted to take him somewhere.

The Hunter didn't reply, just started walking out of the palace, with Gilgamesh silently following.

The two walked for minutes until they left Uruk, neither saying a single word, just calmly observing the surroundings as the environment changed.

They walked, even though they could run, fly, until they reached a forest on the outskirts of Uruk, entering it and going further, into its center.

The night outside the great city was dark, with the weak moonlight not passing through the treetops. A normal human would be terrified, knowing of the monsters that existed at night, especially not being able to see.

The hunter and the king showed no reaction; both could see in the dark as well as during the day, being apex predators in this forest.

"Do you have something that can make you as weak as an ordinary human?" The Hunter asked, stopping his steps in a more open part of the forest. "Something that can seal your power?"

Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes without answering; Enkidu, the Chains of Heaven emerging from within the king's treasure, twisting around his arms.

At the same time, Gilgamesh took two bracelets from his treasure and put them on his wrists.

At that moment, Gilgamesh was as "weak" as an ordinary human, with his divinity sealed, and his strength and magic suppressed.

Even so, the king showed no emotion, no fear or longing, knowing that he could free himself from such restrictions at any moment.

"Here, take it." The Hunter spoke before the king could speak again, reaching out and handing the Saw Cleaver, his first weapon, to the king.

"What's your game, Hunter?" Gilgamesh looked at the weapon without taking it. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"I can assure you it's not." The Hunter replied without any change in his voice or face. "It's just the best way I could offer you an answer." The Hunter continued with the weapon in hand, offering it to the king.

"I could answer you with some understanding I've gained over the years." The Hunter himself was, by definition, immortal; all Great Ones were... Once were, at least...

"I could answer you with some understanding I've heard, learned from someone." There was no shortage of experiments and studies on immortality in Yharnam.

"Still, I will say something my mentor told me the first time we met." Something in the Hunter's voice changed, Gilgamesh noticed, it seemed almost... Nostalgic.

"Just go and kill some beasts. It's for your own good..." It wasn't the exact phrase, but it kept its essence.

Just go, kill some beasts...

Gilgamesh observed both the weapon and the hunter before taking the cleaver from the Hunter's hands.

It was a rusty weapon, stained with blood, exuding a putrid air of death, something used by a butcher, not a warrior, let alone a king.

Gilgamesh took some time to observe the weapon in his hands before shifting his gaze to the Hunter... Who had disappeared; in the place where he was, only a small broken bottle existed, spilling a viscous and putrid liquid on the ground.

The smell was horrible, so much so that it made the king's nose wrinkle before his forehead when he heard dozens of footsteps and growls coming in his direction rapidly.

Beasts attracted by the Pungent Blood Cocktail.

As Gilgamesh was about to summon his treasures, the Hunter's words echoed in his mind...

"Just go and kill some beasts. It's for your own good..."

... causing him to pause, holding the Saw Cleaver, as he awaited the beasts to come his way.

The king could deal with the beasts in various ways, but without his treasure, without his powers, with his divine essence sealed, his body as fragile as that of a mortal, only two options remained, as for everyone else.

Fight or flee, Gilgamesh would always be himself, and Gilgamesh would never flee; his pride wouldn't allow that, his arrogance, which composed him entirely.

Fight... Fight face to face, survive, hunt... That's what the king did.

He didn't cower or run, didn't retreat, but faced all the beasts coming towards him, crazed by the scent of blood to the point where nothing else mattered.

With a body like that of an ordinary human, Gilgamesh fought like he had never fought before in his life, like an ordinary human.

For every cut he received from the claws of the beasts, he returned two using the cleaver, the weapon craving more and more blood with each death.

With each injury received, Gilgamesh killed a beast, with each beast killed, the king seemed to lose himself even more, channeling all the emotion he felt into the battle he was having.

All the anger he felt for the gods punishing Enkidu when it should have been him receiving punishment.

All the disgust he felt for himself, for being unable to save his only and dearest friend, needing to ask for help so that Enkidu wouldn't die.

All the sadness, anguish, fury, everything...

The uncertainty the king had no longer mattered; something like mortality didn't matter at this moment for Gilgamesh.

The impact that the near-death of Enkidu had on the king was immense, finally making him realize that he couldn't fulfill his self-assigned role, that everything would have an end, including him.

For the first time, Gilgamesh had feared death, the uncertainty of the end, and it infuriated him at the same time it left him desperate.

But at this moment, with his own blood covering his entire body, the blood of the beasts even more, covering everything in his vision, nothing else mattered.

The king had no technique, never needed one, but he learned fast, creating his own style without even realizing it, hunting, killing everything around him.

Gilgamesh threw his entire being into the battle, which fought back with everything it had; the beasts were endless, the smell of blood seemed eternal, never fading, never extinguishing, always present.

Minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days, and the night seemed, like the blood, not to end, not until the hunt was over.

Then, under a pale moon, the king for that period of time, was not a king but a hunter.

After days, with the hunt finished, Gilgamesh stopped moving and finally stopped attacking.

The king was fully aware of his actions all this time, still, he had let himself be carried away, realizing only where he was at the end of it all.

On top of a massive pile of corpses that seemed to cover the entire forest.

Everything was red, everything was covered in blood, from the highest canopy to every tiny blade of grass on the ground, the king's body was no different.

Gilgamesh was completely covered in blood, his body riddled with wounds, his blond hair completely reddened, like his eyes, which seemed to glow, pulsating in red with a barely contained ferocity, but for a long time, were calmer than ever.

They held more certainty than ever.

"Just go and kill some beasts. It's for your own good..."

Gilgamesh murmured to himself before his body began to tremble, laughing, for the first time since Enkidu's illness, Gilgamesh laughed, laughed for a long time.

The king continued laughing until his aching body started to hurt even more, until the side of his body felt ablaze, still, he kept laughing, happier than ever.

When asked by the King and the Hunter where they had been in the past hours and why Gilgamesh was injured and bleeding, the answer was only one.

"We went out to hunt."

Gilgamesh did not heal, leaving his body sealed, healing like an ordinary, mortal human, just as he was, like everyone else.

Enkidu asked his friend alone what had happened, not out of concern but out of curiosity. Gilgamesh seemed happier than ever, wiser, and paradoxically, containing a more savage look in his eyes.

"I sought advice from the Hunter, one that he himself said he received from his own mentor." Gilgamesh spoke as he swirled the wine glass in his hand.

The wine had a color that Gilgamesh had become familiar with...

"What advice?" Enkidu asked curiously, wondering why his friend paid so much attention to the wine before drinking it.

Gilgamesh laughed amused, recalling the phrase, wondering who the Hunter's mentor had been, who had taught him and how, to create something like the Hunter.

The First Hunter would laugh if he heard the king's thoughts, laugh and say that he hadn't done much, hadn't taught much, that he was just an old man who had given only one piece of advice...

"Just go and kill some beasts..." Gilgamesh replied.

It was never advice, it didn't have a deeper meaning, not for those who had never embraced the hunt.

"I can't say I understand..." Enkidu nodded, confused about how such advice would help the king so much.

This amused Gilgamesh, but at the same time, it saddened the king, as his friend might never understand, never experience such pleasure.

After all, Enkidu was something born from the earth, from clay...

... Not... Blood… Borne…

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Well, I decided to throw caution to the wind and give a damn character development for Gilgamesh, let's see how that changes things over time.

Well, the Babylon arc should have 2/3 more chapters, so let's see Hunter and Doll set off on a journey again...

Oh, and by the way, only 2 Babylonian gods are necessary...