First Day in Roswaal's Mansion

Gilgamesh lay in his bed, golden hair cascading over the pillow like a radiant crown. He held an old book he'd found on the nightstand, his fingers lightly tracing the mysterious script. Despite the ornate illustrations and delicate pages, the text was indecipherable, the letters forming a puzzle that teased him with its secrecy.

A soft knock interrupted his musings, and the door creaked open. The maid twins, Rem and Ram, entered with their usual synchronized grace. Their identical faces were calm and composed, but their eyes held a guarded curiosity.

"Good morning, Sir Gilgamesh," they chimed together, their tones flat.

Gilgamesh sat up, a rare smile softening his sharp features. "Ah, the lovely twins. What a delightful sight to begin the day."

The blue-haired twin, gave a slight nod without smiling. "Rem is here to ensure the guest's needs are met."

Ram, with her pink hair, looked at the book in his hands with a raised eyebrow. "Does the guest enjoy reading books he can't comprehend?"

Gilgamesh shrugged, setting the book aside. "A king must always seek knowledge, even in the most unfamiliar of places."

Ram crossed her arms, her expression indifferent. "If the guest finds our books to his liking, that is his affair."

Gilgamesh leaned back, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "And how are my charming hosts this morning?"

Ram smirked slightly, but her eyes remained distant. "Ram thinks the guest enjoys flattery a bit too much."

Rem added, her voice cool, "Rem agrees. The guest seems overly comfortable."

Gilgamesh laughed, a rich, warm sound. "Ah, such sharp tongues! I merely speak the truth as I see it."

Ram's eyes narrowed, a hint of challenge in her gaze. "And what truth is that? That Ram and Rem are cute, as the guest so boldly proclaimed?"

Gilgamesh chuckled, unperturbed. "Among other things, yes."

Rem and Ram exchanged a glance before Rem stepped forward. "If the guest needs anything, Rem and Ram are at his service."

Gilgamesh inclined his head. "Thank you, but for now, I am content. I appreciate your hospitality."

As Rem and Ram turned to leave, Gilgamesh's voice caught their attention once more. "Before you go, would you mind telling me a bit more about yourselves? A king like me is always curious about the people in his domain."

Ram's eyes narrowed slightly. "Ram thinks the guest should focus on his own affairs."

Rem's expression remained unreadable. "Rem is happy to serve as needed. We take pride in our work."

Gilgamesh nodded, acknowledging their response. "It's clear you both take your duties seriously."

The twins gave a final nod before exiting the room, the door opened again, and Emilia entered, her silver hair shining in the morning light. "Good morning, Gilgamesh. I hope you slept well?"

Gilgamesh inclined his head in greeting. "Very well, thank you. Your home is quite fascinating."

Emilia smiled warmly. "I'm glad to hear that. Would you like a tour of the mansion? It might help you get more acquainted with everything here."

"That sounds delightful," Gilgamesh replied, his interest piqued.

Rem and Ram bowed slightly and exited the room as Emilia led Gilgamesh out into the grand hallways of the mansion. As they walked, Emilia pointed out various rooms and their purposes, sharing bits of history and anecdotes about the estate.

Gilgamesh listened attentively, his eyes taking in the intricate architecture and decor. However, as they approached a particular hallway, a strange sensation washed over him. He paused, his gaze fixed on one of the doors.

"Is something the matter?" Emilia asked, noticing his distraction.

Gilgamesh's expression grew serious. "There's a peculiar magic energy coming from that room."

Emilia followed his gaze, her eyes widening slightly. "That's the forbidden library. It's quite extensive and holds many secrets."

As Gilgamesh and Emilia entered the library, the vast room was filled with an aura of mystery, the towering bookshelves seeming to hold the secrets of ages past. In the center of this grand space, Beatrice sat on a small chair, engrossed in a thick tome, her blonde hair barely moving as she turned the pages.

Noticing their presence, Beatrice looked up, her expression one of mild irritation. "Who dares to intrude upon the forbidden archive of knowledge, I suppose?"

Gilgamesh's gaze swept across the room before settling on Beatrice. "I am Gilgamesh, king of Uruk," he declared, his voice resonating with authority. "And who might you be, little one?"

Beatrice stood up, her demeanor cool and detached. "I am Beatrice, the keeper of this library, I suppose." She approached Gilgamesh, her eyes fixed on him. "To ensure you're not a threat, I'll need to take some of your mana, I suppose."

Before Gilgamesh could respond, Beatrice reached out and placed her hand on his arm. As she tried to draw mana from him, a powerful force blasted her back, sending her flying across the room. She crashed into a bookshelf and fell to the floor, her eyes wide with shock.

Emilia gasped, rushing to Beatrice's side. "Beatrice, are you alright?"

Beatrice looked up at Gilgamesh, fear and confusion evident in her eyes. "Who… who are you?"

Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. "You dare to attempt such a thing on a king? I am Gilgamesh, and this world with all its treasures belongs to me."

Emilia quickly intervened, her voice gentle yet firm. "Please, Gilgamesh. Beatrice only does this to ensure the safety of everyone in the mansion. It's a precaution."

Gilgamesh laughed, a deep, rich sound. "If I were a threat, none of you would be alive to discuss it."

Gilgamesh's anger subsided slightly, and he waved his hand dismissively. "Very well. I suppose I can understand the need for caution in these parts."

Just then, a small, floating spirit cat named Puck materialized, greeting them cheerfully. "Good morning, Lia. Hello, Gilgamesh."

Puck's expression quickly turned serious as he saw the scene. "What happened here?"

Beatrice, still shaken, explained, "I tried to take his mana, as I do with all visitors, I suppose. But his mana… it's overwhelming. I couldn't even take any, and it pushed me back, I suppose."

Emilia looked at him with a mix of awe and concern. "Please, let's continue the tour." She gestured for Gilgamesh to follow her.

As they left the library, Puck floated down to Beatrice, his voice soft with concern. "Betty, are you okay? What did you feel?"

Beatrice picked up Puck, cradling him gently. "I felt an aura of domination, a powerful force that pushed me back, as if I am not worthy to access his mana, I suppose."

Puck's eyes widened, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with worry. "That's… that's scary, Betty."

Beatrice's expression then shifted to one of joy as she began to play with Puck, her fingers gently stroking his fur. "Don't worry, Bubby. I'll be fine. Just surprised, I suppose." She carried the spirit cat with her hand, finding comfort in his presence as she pondered the enigma that was Gilgamesh.

Emilia led Gilgamesh through the grand corridors of the mansion, her steps light and graceful as she continued the tour. She pointed out various rooms, detailing their history and significance within the mansion. Despite her cheerful tone, there was a lingering tension from the earlier encounter in the library, though Gilgamesh seemed unfazed, his golden eyes scanning everything with sharp curiosity.

As they finally reached the mansion's expansive garden, the morning sun bathed the vibrant flowers and neatly trimmed hedges in a warm glow. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of blooming roses and jasmine. Emilia gestured toward a stone bench beneath a large oak tree, inviting Gilgamesh to sit with her.

"This garden is one of my favorite places," Emilia said, her voice soft. "It's peaceful, isn't it?"

Gilgamesh nodded, his gaze drifting over the lush greenery. "It is quite pleasant. A fitting place for contemplation."

Emilia smiled, but then her expression grew more serious. "I wanted to explain something important to you, Gilgamesh. Since you're new to this world, you should understand how magic works here. It might be different from what you're used to."

Gilgamesh leaned back, his interest piqued. "Very well. Enlighten me."

"Magic in this world is closely tied to mana, the energy that flows through all living things and even the air around us," Emilia began. "There are six primary elements—fire, water, earth, wind, yin, and yang. Each person has an affinity for one or more elements, which determines the type of magic they can use."

Gilgamesh nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information. "And how does one manipulate this mana to perform spells?"

"It's done through something called a 'gate,' which is a magical conduit within each person. By opening their gate, they can channel mana and use it to cast spells. However, using too much mana can strain the gate, and if it's overused, it could be damaged or even destroyed."

Emilia paused, her expression turning more earnest. "That's why it's important to understand your limits. Some people are born with a natural talent for magic, while others have to work harder to develop their skills. But everyone must be careful not to overextend themselves."

Gilgamesh tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing in thought. "Interesting. And what of your own abilities, Emilia? You seem to possess a considerable amount of mana."

Emilia blushed slightly at the compliment but remained composed. "I do have a strong affinity for the ice element. Most of my spells involve manipulating ice and cold. But even with a strong affinity, I still have to be mindful of how much mana I use."

Gilgamesh regarded her with a thoughtful expression. "Your power is impressive, but I sense there's more to it. Something deeper."

Emilia looked away, her silver hair catching the sunlight as she spoke quietly. "Perhaps. But I've learned that power isn't everything. It's how you use it that truly matters."

Gilgamesh chuckled, a rare warmth in his voice. "A wise sentiment. It seems you're more than just a pretty face, Emilia."

Emilia cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "N-no, it's just… not many people speak to me like that," she admitted, her blush deepening.

As Emilia tried to regain her composure, a small figure zipped through the air and latched onto her face. Puck, her ever-faithful spirit companion, nuzzled her cheek protectively. His playful tone carried a hint of exaggerated fear as he addressed Gilgamesh. "Stay away from Lia! She's my daughter, after all. I won't let anyone take her away!"

Emilia blinked in surprise, her blush only deepening as Puck's sudden intervention made the situation even more embarrassing. She gently tried to pry him off, but Puck clung tighter, his tiny paws wrapped around her face.

Gilgamesh chuckled, thoroughly amused by the sight. His golden eyes gleamed with mischief as he responded in a mock-serious tone. "Your daughter, you say? Then that makes me her husband-to-be, doesn't it? After all, who else but the King of Heroes could be worthy of such a bride?"

Puck's eyes narrowed, and he puffed up in mock indignation. "Oh no, no, no! I won't let you have her so easily, Gilgamesh! You'll have to go through me first!" He waved his tiny paws in the air, pretending to put up a fierce fight.

Gilgamesh smirked, crossing his arms as he played along. "A challenge, is it? Very well, spirit. But know this—once I decide on something, no one can change my mind."

The exchange quickly devolved into a playful argument, with Puck insisting that Emilia was his precious daughter and Gilgamesh countering that he would make the perfect son-in-law. Their banter filled the garden with an air of lightheartedness, Emilia caught in the middle of it all, her embarrassment now mixed with laughter.

Emilia couldn't help but smile at their antics, her earlier tension melting away. "Alright, you two, that's enough. Puck, you know better than to be so overprotective," she chided gently, though her tone was affectionate.

Puck finally released his grip on Emilia, floating down to her shoulder with a mock huff. "Fine, fine. But I'm watching you, Gilgamesh," he said, pointing two fingers at his eyes and then at Gilgamesh in a playful warning.

Gilgamesh merely chuckled, raising an eyebrow as if to say, Challenge accepted.

As the playful banter between Gilgamesh and Puck came to an end, the soft sound of footsteps approached. Both Rem and Ram appeared, their identical forms perfectly synchronized as they bowed slightly in unison.

"Lady Emilia," they said in tandem, their tones respectful yet firm. "Our lord, Roswaal, has returned."

Emilia straightened, her expression shifting from one of warmth to a more composed demeanor. "Thank you, Rem, Ram. We should go greet him."

With that, Emilia began leading the way to the dining room, Puck comfortably perched on her shoulder, still casting wary glances at Gilgamesh. The golden-haired king followed alongside them, his regal presence undeniable even in the relaxed setting.

As they walked through the grand corridors of the mansion, Gilgamesh's sharp eyes caught a flicker of movement. Glancing upward, he noticed Beatrice standing by one of the mansion's tall windows, her petite form framed by the curtains. Her large, expressive eyes were fixed on him, her usual stoic expression tinged with curiosity and something deeper—perhaps a lingering unease from their earlier encounter.

Gilgamesh met her gaze, his own expression unreadable. There was no animosity in his eyes, merely a quiet acknowledgment of her presence. Beatrice held his gaze for a moment before she turned away, disappearing from view as they continued on their way.

As they entered the dining room, Gilgamesh's eyes immediately fell on Beatrice, who was already seated at the far end of the room. Despite her small frame and the oversized chair that seemed to engulf her, her presence was unmistakable. The air of mystery and authority that surrounded her earlier in the library was now softened as Puck, the small spirit cat, darted towards her.

Without hesitation, Beatrice caught Puck in her small hands, her usually stern expression melting into one of pure affection. She cuddled him close to her face, rubbing her cheek against his tiny body, her voice unexpectedly playful as she made soft, childlike sounds. The stark contrast between this tender display and the icy demeanor she'd shown before was almost startling. Gilgamesh couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, finding amusement in the sudden shift of her personality. It was a rare sight, and one that piqued his interest.

The light atmosphere was abruptly interrupted as the double doors at the far end of the room swung open with a theatrical flourish.

As the tall figure adorned in flamboyant attire made his grand entrance, his mismatched eyes gleaming with amusement, Gilgamesh's gaze immediately locked onto him. The aura of power that radiated from this strange man was unmistakable, but Gilgamesh had little patience for theatrics, especially from someone who seemed to be playing the role of a jester.

Roswaal's gaze swept across the room, landing on the golden king. His smile widened, but before he could speak, Gilgamesh's voice cut through the air with authority.

"You there, clown. Identify yourself."

The room fell silent, the weight of Gilgamesh's words hanging in the air like a heavy shroud. Rem and Ram froze in place, their usual stoic expressions giving way to brief flickers of surprise. Beatrice's eyes widened slightly, though she remained cradling Puck in her small arms. Even Emilia, who had been trying to ease the tension earlier, felt a bead of sweat trickle down her temple as she looked between Gilgamesh and Roswaal with a growing sense of unease.

"G-Gilgamesh…" Emilia stammered, her voice laced with concern as she quickly tried to intervene. "That's—"

But before she could finish, Roswaal held up a hand, silencing her with a playful wave. "It's quite alright, Lady Emilia~," he said with a lilting tone, his gaze still fixed on Gilgamesh. "The make-up I wear does tend to… confuse people, leading them to mistake me for something other than what I am."

Roswaal then placed a hand over his heart and bowed dramatically, his exaggerated movements only heightening the strange theatricality of his presence. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Roswaal L. Mathers, the lord of this humble mansion and a loyal servant to Lady Emilia~! And who, might I ask, do I have the pleasure of addressing~?"

Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed the man before him. The air of arrogance surrounding Roswaal was palpable, but it was tempered by a keen intelligence that the king recognized and respected—at least to a degree.

"I am Gilgamesh, King of Uruk," he declared, his voice resonating with a regal authority that left no room for doubt. "You speak of loyalty, clown, but do not mistake me for a mere guest. I am a ruler, and I will not be treated as anything less."

Roswaal's smile widened, his painted lips curling into a grin that was both amused and thoughtful. "Ah, a king, you say~? Fascinating~! Then consider me at your service as well, Your Majesty~!" His tone was mocking yet respectful, as if he was testing the boundaries of how far he could push this enigmatic new presence in his mansion.

Emilia, sensing the tension still lingering between the two, stepped forward with a gentle smile, her voice calm and soothing. "Roswaal, Gilgamesh is our guest, and I hope you will treat him with the respect he deserves."

Roswaal chuckled, nodding in agreement. "But of course, Lady Emilia~! I would never dream of doing otherwise~!"

With the introductions complete, Roswaal gracefully took his seat at the head of the table, his presence still dominating the room despite his playful demeanor. As the others followed suit, the tension in the air gradually eased, allowing the meal to proceed.

As they all gathered at the dining table, the meal was served, and the aroma of delicious food filled the room. Gilgamesh, with his usual regal poise, glanced at the spread before him. Although everyone else began to eat, he reached into his Gate of Babylon and retrieved a fine, ancient bottle of wine, its golden exterior shimmering as it appeared in his hand.

Pouring the rich liquid into his glass, Gilgamesh took a sip, savoring the taste before nodding in approval. "This is more to my liking," he said, his crimson eyes glinting with satisfaction. The display caught the attention of everyone at the table.

Emilia, always curious but polite, leaned forward slightly. "Is that wine from your world, Gilgamesh? It smells... different, but in a good way."

Gilgamesh inclined his head, swirling the wine in his glass before answering. "Indeed. This is a vintage from the finest vineyards of Uruk, preserved in my treasury. It surpasses anything this world could offer."

Roswaal chuckled softly, clearly amused. "How intriguing~! A treasure trove of fine wines, along with all your other… riches? I must admit, the more I learn about you, the more curious I become~."

Gilgamesh set down his glass and smirked. "Indeed. My treasures are beyond your comprehension, but I must compliment the food." He glanced at the table. "Despite appearances, someone here is quite the skilled cook."

Roswaal chuckled, his gaze shifting to Rem. "Despite her appearance, Rem is an excellent cook. She takes pride in her work, and I must say, she never disappoints~."

Rem, standing beside Roswaal, bowed her head slightly, her usual calm demeanor in place. "Thank you, Sir Gilgamesh. I'm pleased that the meal is to your liking."

The meal continued with more lighthearted conversation, with Gilgamesh occasionally chiming in with his sharp wit. Rem and Ram remained mostly silent, though Gilgamesh noted the way their eyes occasionally flickered towards him, as if still trying to decipher this enigmatic guest.

As the last of the dishes were cleared away, Roswaal leaned back in his chair, his mismatched eyes gleaming with that ever-present amusement. "Well then, Gilgamesh, now that you've had a taste of our hospitality, what do you think of this humble mansion of mine~?"

Gilgamesh took a moment, his gaze sweeping across the room. "It is… adequate. Though I find your collection of knowledge in the library to be more impressive than anything else."

Beatrice, who had been quietly cuddling Puck throughout the meal, perked up at this, though she remained silent. Roswaal, however, caught the shift in the room's atmosphere and smiled knowingly.

"Ah, yes~! The forbidden library is indeed one of the crown jewels of this estate." He paused, a glint of something unreadable in his mismatched eyes, before continuing. "Gilgamesh, I would be honored to offer you a favor in return for your assistance in recovering Lady Emilia's insignia and ensuring her safety. Anything within my power, consider it yours."

Gilgamesh's gaze sharpened, the intensity in his eyes betraying a mind always calculating, always assessing the worth of what was offered. "There is nothing you can offer that I desire," he began, his voice carrying the weight of absolute certainty. "However, I do not refuse gifts, no matter how trivial they may be."

He leaned back in his chair, a slow, confident smile spreading across his face. "I will take you up on your offer, but only to the extent that it amuses me. For now, I choose to remain in this mansion. I will decide when I shall depart."

Roswaal's smile remained, though there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, as if recognizing the magnitude of what he had just agreed to. "Very well, Your Majesty. The mansion is yours for as long as you wish to stay."

Gilgamesh nodded, taking another sip of his wine before leaning back in his chair. "I've heard much about the power of this world's magicians. They say you are the strongest in the kingdom, Roswaal." (Note: He heard that from Emilia and Ram)

Roswaal leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Indeed~ I have been called the strongest magician in Lugnica, though I must say, it's not all about strength, you know~! There's also finesse, strategy, and a bit of theatrical flair~!"

Gilgamesh's crimson eyes narrowed, assessing the man before him. "Finesse and strategy are crucial, but raw power is what truly determines a victor. Tell me, how does one in this world go about learning magic?"

Before Roswaal could answer, Puck, who was perched comfortably on Beatrice's lap as she fed him small bites of food, chimed in."If you're interested in magic, Gilgamesh, I could help you figure out your elemental affinities and teach you the basics. It's always good to know what you're working with."

Gilgamesh regarded Puck for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, spirit. I accept your offer."

However, before the conversation could drift elsewhere, Gilgamesh leaned forward slightly, a gleam of challenge in his eyes. "But before we delve into lessons, I have a request, Roswaal."

The air in the room grew tense as Gilgamesh continued. "I want to see how the strongest magician in this world fights. I propose a duel."

Roswaal's mismatched eyes sparkled with amusement, though there was a sharpness to his gaze now. "A duel, you say~? How very bold of you, Your Majesty~! I must admit, it's been quite some time since I've had a proper duel."

Emilia's eyes widened in concern. "Wait, Roswaal, are you really going to—"

Roswaal raised a hand to calm her. "Do not worry, Lady Emilia~! A friendly duel is nothing to be concerned about~!"

Beatrice, who had been quietly observing from her seat, tilted her head slightly, her curiosity piqued. She had seen many things in her long life, but this king with crimson eyes intrigued her. She decided to stay and watch how this duel would unfold.

Gilgamesh smirked, standing up from his seat. "Then it's settled. Let us move to a more suitable location. I wish to see the extent of your power."

The dining room was abuzz with anticipation as the group made their way outside to the spacious courtyard. Beatrice followed silently, her small form floating just above the ground as she kept a close eye on the unfolding events.

Roswaal, always the showman, made a grand gesture as he prepared himself. "Shall we begin~?"

Gilgamesh stood across from him, his crimson eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "Show me what this world's strongest magician can do."

As the wind began to swirl around them, the courtyard became a stage for a clash of titans—one who ruled through sheer force of will and another who thrived on mastery of the arcane. Beatrice, Emilia, Rem, and Ram watched in anticipation, knowing that this was no ordinary duel. Puck hovered nearby, ready to intervene if things got out of hand.

The battle was about to begin.