Chapter 117: Gilgamesh's Declaration to the World

The morning sun bathed the city of Uruk in golden light as the citizens gathered in the grand plaza. The majestic towers of the newly established kingdom gleamed with the promise of power and glory, a testament to the ambition of its ruler. Gilgamesh, the self-proclaimed King of Heroes, stood atop a towering platform in the center of the plaza, his presence radiating authority and dominance. His crimson cloak billowed in the wind as he surveyed the masses below him—his people, his subjects, his empire.

Uruk had risen from the ashes of the Land of Demons, transformed from a desolate wasteland into a thriving metropolis under his rule. And now, with the foundation laid, it was time for Gilgamesh to make his grand declaration—not just to Uruk, but to the entire world.

With a commanding gesture, Gilgamesh raised his hand, and the crowd fell into a reverent silence. His voice, deep and powerful, echoed across the plaza, amplified by the magic woven into the very air. His golden armor gleamed in the sunlight as he began to speak, every word dripping with confidence and arrogance.

Gilgamesh's Grand Speech:

"People of Uruk! People of the world! Lend me your ears, for today marks the beginning of a new era—an era where the divine right of kings is restored, where the age of pretenders and false rulers comes to an end. Before you stands Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, the rightful ruler of this world, and today, I proclaim my dominion over all that exists!"

His voice boomed with authority, reverberating through the plaza like the very drums of war. The citizens of Uruk looked up at their king with awe and admiration, hanging onto every word.

"For too long, the world has been ruled by weaklings, by men and women unworthy of the power they hold. The so-called leaders of the Ninja Villages, the Daimyos of the lands—they are nothing more than insects, scurrying about in their tiny corners of the world, unaware of the magnitude of their insignificance. They cling to their paltry titles and false authority, deluding themselves into believing that they are kings. But I—Gilgamesh—am here to correct this grave injustice."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. His piercing red eyes scanned the crowd, and for a brief moment, it felt as though he was staring into the soul of every individual present.

"Look around you," he continued, gesturing to the grandeur of Uruk. "This is what true power looks like! In a matter of days, I have transformed a barren wasteland into a kingdom of gold, a kingdom of wealth and splendor that dwarfs anything the so-called great nations could ever hope to achieve. This—this is but the beginning of what I, Gilgamesh, am capable of."

He extended his arm, pointing to the horizon, as if claiming everything beyond it as his own.

"The world, in all its vastness, belongs to me. Every blade of grass, every mountain peak, every drop of water in the seas—these are my dominion. And all who inhabit this world, be they kings or peasants, will kneel before me, for I am not merely a king—I am the emperor of all creation. The authority vested in me is divine, granted by the very heavens themselves. None can challenge my right to rule, for I was born to be the one true king!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, the people of Uruk chanting his name. "Gilgamesh! Gilgamesh! Gilgamesh!" The sound of their adoration fueled his already immeasurable arrogance, and a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

"There are those who would dare oppose me," he said, his voice growing darker, more menacing. "The so-called great nations—Konoha, Suna, Kiri, Iwa, Kumo—they hide behind their fragile alliances and their pitiful armies, believing that their numbers give them strength. How laughable! Numbers mean nothing in the face of true power. I could reduce their villages to ash with a mere thought if I so desired."

He raised his hand, as if holding the world itself in his grasp. "But I am a magnanimous ruler. I will grant them the opportunity to kneel before me, to offer their loyalty and pay homage to their rightful emperor. Those who submit to me will be allowed to live under my protection, to bask in the glory of my reign. But those who defy me…"

His eyes glinted with a dangerous light. "Those who defy me will know the wrath of the King of Heroes. I will tear down their walls, shatter their armies, and reduce their lands to dust. They will beg for mercy, but they will receive none. For defiance against Gilgamesh is defiance against the natural order itself."

The air around him seemed to crackle with energy, as if the very universe was bending to his will. His presence was overwhelming, a force of nature that could not be denied.

"I have already conquered death itself!" Gilgamesh declared, his voice rising with righteous fury. "I am eternal, a king who stands above all others, untouchable by the petty machinations of mortals. While other rulers age and wither, I remain as I have always been—perfect, immortal, invincible. What is a mere ninja to a god? What is a feeble leader to the King of Heroes?"

The crowd was entranced by his words, their admiration turning into something akin to worship. Gilgamesh had cast a spell over them, not with magic, but with the sheer force of his charisma and dominance.

"And now, to the leaders of the world, I say this: Your time is over. No longer will you rule over your pitiful villages and petty nations. The world is mine! Uruk is the center of the universe, and I, Gilgamesh, am the sun around which all things revolve. You will bow to me, or you will be erased from existence. There is no third option."

He paused again, letting the silence stretch out before him like the calm before a storm. Then, his voice softened, but it was no less commanding.

"To my people—the people of Uruk—you are the chosen few. You are the ones who have the privilege of living under my rule, of witnessing the birth of a new world order. You will be the first to experience the glory of my reign, and in time, the entire world will envy your position."

He smiled, a smile that was both benevolent and terrifying. "I will lead you into an era of unparalleled prosperity. Under my guidance, Uruk will become the most powerful kingdom in history. Our wealth will be limitless, our armies invincible, our influence undeniable. Other nations will cower at the mere mention of our name. And you, my people, will share in that glory."

Gilgamesh stepped forward, his cape flowing behind him as he gazed down at his subjects with a sense of supreme ownership. "I will give you everything. Wealth, power, security—these will be your birthright as citizens of Uruk. All I ask in return is your loyalty. Serve me faithfully, and you will want for nothing. Betray me…"

His eyes flashed dangerously once more. "And you will face a fate worse than death."

The tension in the air was palpable, but the citizens of Uruk were not afraid. They were exhilarated, intoxicated by the aura of their king. In their eyes, Gilgamesh was more than a ruler—he was a god, and they were his chosen people.

"And now, to the rest of the world," Gilgamesh continued, his voice returning to its full, commanding strength. "I offer you this one chance. Submit to my rule willingly, and you will be spared. Refuse, and your lands will burn. Your armies will fall. Your leaders will kneel before me in chains, and your people will be brought to heel."

He raised his arms high, as if welcoming the world to his feet. "The world is mine! The era of Gilgamesh has begun! Rejoice, for you now live in the shadow of the greatest ruler to ever walk the earth. All will bow before me, for there is no power greater than that of the King of Heroes!"

The cheers from the crowd were deafening. The people of Uruk roared in approval, their voices echoing across the city, across the land. They believed in their king—no, their emperor. They believed in his power, in his vision, in his promise of a new world order.

Gilgamesh stood at the center of it all, basking in the adulation of his people. His smirk widened as he looked out over the horizon. This was only the beginning. The world would soon learn what it meant to face the King of Heroes, and they would tremble before his might.

"Let the world know," Gilgamesh declared, his voice carrying over the roaring crowd, "that Uruk is not merely a kingdom. It is the future. And I—Gilgamesh—am its eternal ruler. From this day forth, all who live do so under my dominion."

He turned, his golden cape billowing behind him as he began to walk off the platform, his head held high. But just before he disappeared from view, he paused, casting one final glance over his people.

"Remember this day, people of Uruk. For today, you have witnessed the birth of a god."

With that, Gilgamesh left the stage, leaving behind a city that was electrified with excitement, a world that had just been put on notice, and a future that would belong to him.

The era of Gilgamesh had truly begun.