The Golden King vs. The Bowel Hunter

The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with the very blade the dark-haired woman wielded. Her eyes, sharp and predatory, scanned the room, locking onto Gilgamesh with a mixture of curiosity and malevolence. Emilia stood frozen, clutching the insignia close to her chest, while the girl and the old man exchanged nervous glances, realizing they were now caught in something far beyond their comprehension.

Gilgamesh, however, remained unfazed. His crimson eyes gleamed with anticipation as he regarded the woman before him, who exuded a dark, ominous aura. This one, he thought, might provide some entertainment.

"So," the woman purred, her voice dripping with sadistic glee, "you must be the one who's been causing a stir in my plans. I was quite enjoying the thought of carving up that pretty girl over there, but you... you might be even more fun."

Gilgamesh's smirk widened, his arrogance on full display. "Your hubris is amusing, woman. You believe yourself capable of challenging me? You should know better than to stand in the way of a king."

The woman's eyes narrowed, her smile fading slightly as she realized the gravity of the situation. "A king, you say? Then let's see if this king bleeds like any other."

With a speed that was almost imperceptible, she lunged at Gilgamesh, her dagger aimed straight for his heart. The girl and the old man gasped, barely able to follow her movements, while Emilia's breath caught in her throat, her instinct to cry out for him stifled by sheer terror.

But before the blade could make contact, it was met with an impenetrable force. A shimmering golden barrier appeared around Gilgamesh, effortlessly halting the woman's attack. Her dagger clanged uselessly against the barrier, sparks flying from the impact.

Gilgamesh's smirk turned into a cold, disdainful laugh. "Futile," he declared, his voice dripping with contempt. "You are nothing more than a common beast, lashing out in desperation. Allow me to show you the difference between a mongrel and a king."

With a flick of his wrist, the barrier expanded outward, sending the woman skidding back across the room. She regained her footing, her expression now twisted in frustration and rage.

"You're not the only one with tricks," she snarled, her voice losing its previous playfulness. With a swift motion, she unsheathed a second dagger, its blade glinting with a malevolent light. "I've taken down knights, mages, and warriors. What makes you think you're any different?"

Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed, and with a slight nod, a golden ripple appeared in the air behind him. From it, a weapon emerged—a gleaming sword, ornate and deadly. It floated beside him, poised to strike at his command.

"You dare to compare those weaklings to me?" Gilgamesh scoffed. "Know your place, woman. I am Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, and you are but a speck in my path."

The woman's eyes darted to the floating sword, recognizing the danger it posed. But before she could react, Gilgamesh unleashed his attack. The sword shot forward with blinding speed, forcing the woman to leap to the side. She barely avoided the strike, the sword carving a deep gash into the stone floor where she had stood.

"Impressive," she muttered under her breath, realizing she would have to take this fight seriously. "But I'm not done yet."

She moved swiftly, her daggers flashing as she attempted to close the distance between them. But Gilgamesh was faster. Another weapon appeared from the golden ripples behind him—a spear this time—and it joined the sword in pursuing her. The woman was forced into a defensive stance, parrying the relentless assault of the weapons with her daggers.

Despite her skill, it was clear she was being overwhelmed. Gilgamesh, with an almost bored expression, continued to summon weapons from his treasury, each one more deadly than the last. The woman found herself on the back foot, barely able to keep up with the barrage.

"You thought you could stand against me," Gilgamesh taunted, his voice laced with scorn. "But all you've done is seal your fate."

With a final, decisive motion, Gilgamesh summoned a massive war hammer from his treasury. It crashed down with the force of an avalanche, shattering the woman's defenses and sending her sprawling across the floor.

She coughed, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth as she struggled to push herself up. Her daggers lay shattered beside her, useless against the onslaught she had faced.

"Is that all?" Gilgamesh asked, his tone mocking. "I expected more."

The woman's eyes burned with hatred, but she knew she was beaten. Her body trembled with the effort to stay conscious, the pain overwhelming her senses. Yet, despite her defeat, she forced herself to smile—a twisted, defiant grin.

"You may have won this time," she spat, her voice barely above a whisper. "But don't think this is over. I will return, and when I do, I'll make sure you regret ever crossing me."

Gilgamesh's expression remained impassive as he raised his hand, ready to deliver the final blow. But before he could strike, Emilia's voice rang out, desperate and pleading.

"Stop! Please, Gilgamesh, that's enough!"

Gilgamesh paused, his gaze shifting to Emilia. She stood there, clutching the insignia tightly, her eyes filled with fear and concern.

"She's been defeated," Emilia continued, her voice trembling. "There's no need to kill her. Please, let's just leave."

Gilgamesh regarded her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh of mild annoyance, he lowered his hand, the war hammer vanishing back into his treasury.

"Very well," he said, his tone dismissive. "You've made your request, and I shall honor it. But know this, Emilia—mercy is a luxury that I seldom afford."

Emilia nodded, relief flooding her features. "Thank you."

The woman lay sprawled on the ground, her body trembling with a mix of rage and pain. Her chest heaved with labored breaths as she glared up at Gilgamesh, her eyes blazing with unbridled hatred and defiance. Despite the blood trickling from a gash on her brow and the bruises mottling her arms, she clenched her jaw, refusing to show any sign of submission.

For a moment, it seemed as though she might make a desperate attempt to strike back, her fingers twitching ever so slightly toward the blade that lay just out of reach. But the glint in Gilgamesh's eyes—cold, mocking, and utterly unconcerned—froze her in place. He loomed over her like a predator savoring its prey, his presence suffocating and absolute.

She could feel the raw power radiating from him, a crushing force that pressed down on her like a weight too heavy to bear. The realization hit her like a blow to the chest: she was utterly defeated. Her muscles, once tense with the urge to fight, went slack. She knew, deep in her bones, that any further resistance would be futile—worse, it would be suicidal.

With a guttural snarl of frustration, she forced herself to her feet, her legs shaky but determined. Every movement was laced with agony, yet she pushed through the pain, refusing to let him see her falter. Her glare never wavered, eyes locked on him with a venomous intensity that spoke of a deep-seated loathing. She took a step back, then another, her gaze never leaving his, as if she were daring him to make a move, to give her even the slightest reason to lash out.

But Gilgamesh simply stood there, watching her with a dispassionate smirk, his arms folded across his chest as if her defiance were nothing more than a minor amusement. His indifference stung more than any wound, a silent declaration of his superiority that made her blood boil. It was as if he had already dismissed her as inconsequential, a mere annoyance not worth his time.

The woman gritted her teeth, the bitter taste of defeat burning in her throat. Then, with a sudden, sharp breath, she turned on her heel and fled, her steps unsteady at first but quickly gaining speed. She sprinted out of the loot house to the narrow alleyway, her heart pounding in her ears, the sting of humiliation propelling her forward. The sounds of her hurried footsteps echoed through the empty street, the only testament to her hasty retreat.

As she disappeared into the shadows, her form swallowed by the darkness of the twisting alleys, the faintest echo of her rage lingered in the air—a silent promise that this defeat would not be the end. But for now, all she could do was run, her pride and her life clashing in a bitter, desperate escape from the man who had so effortlessly shattered her resolve.

Without another word, Gilgamesh turned and began to leave the loot house, Emilia and Puck following closely behind. The girl and the old man watched them go, too stunned to speak. The battle had ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving them to wonder who—or what—Gilgamesh truly was.

As they were walking to the door, a tall figure approached them, clad in armor. His presence exuded a quiet strength, and as he stepped into the house, his face was revealed—calm, composed, with eyes that seemed to see through everything.

He approached the group with a measured pace, his eyes scanning the surroundings, taking in the aftermath of the battle with a glance. He focused on Gilgamesh, then shifted his gaze to Emilia.

"Lady Emilia," the man greeted, bowing slightly. "I'm glad to see you are unharmed. I sensed a surge of powerful magic here and came to investigate. May I ask what happened?"

Gilgamesh merely smirked, offering no explanation. Emilia, however, stepped forward, still holding her insignia tightly.

Emilia, still clutching her insignia, took a deep breath to steady herself before speaking. "Thank you, Reinhard. We managed to retrieve the insignia, but not without encountering some trouble." She glanced at Gilgamesh, her eyes reflecting both gratitude and a hint of apprehension. "This man intervened and defeated the assailant without so much as a scratch."

Reinhard's gaze shifted to Gilgamesh, and his expression showed curiosity mixed with respect. "It seems we owe you our gratitude. I am Reinhard van Astrea, the Sword Saint of Lugunica. May I know your name?"

Gilgamesh smirked, his demeanor as imperious as ever. "You stand before Gilgamesh, the greatest of kings. Remember this well, for you have been graced by my presence."

Reinhard nodded, absorbing the king's words with measured composure. "I thank you for your assistance in ensuring Lady Emilia's safety. Your power is undeniable, and your timing was impeccable."

Gilgamesh waved a dismissive hand, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Think nothing of it. I find this world and its challenges quite entertaining."

After acknowledging Gilgamesh, Reinhard's attention shifted to the blond girl and the old man standing nearby. He noticed the tension in their posture and the way they held themselves.

Reinhard approached them, his demeanor calm and respectful. "I noticed your involvement in the events here. I am Reinhard van Astrea. May I know your names?"

The blond girl, with a fierce look in her eyes, hesitated for a moment before responding. "I'm Felt," she said, her voice guarded yet assertive.

Reinhard gave a reassuring smile, trying to ease the tension. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Felt. Your courage in this situation is admirable."

He then turned his attention to the old man standing protectively beside Felt. "And you, sir?"

The old man, his eyes showing a mix of wariness and determination, nodded in acknowledgment. "Name's Rom," he replied gruffly.

Reinhard nodded respectfully. "Thank you for your presence and support, Rom. It's clear that you both care deeply about what happens here."

Rom grunted, his protective nature evident as he glanced at Felt. "We look out for each other. That's all."

Reinhard's expression softened, understanding the bond between them. "It's good to see such loyalty. I appreciate your efforts in keeping everyone safe."

After introducing themselves, Reinhard observed Felt closely. There was something about her that caught his attention, a feeling he couldn't quite place.

"Lady Emilia," Reinhard said, turning to her, "May I borrow the insignia for a moment?"

Emilia looked puzzled but trusted Reinhard. She handed him the insignia without hesitation. Reinhard then approached Felt with a gentle but serious expression.

"Felt, could you hold this insignia for a moment, please?" he asked, offering the insignia to her.

Felt looked at the insignia and then back at Reinhard, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "What's this about?" she asked cautiously.

"Please, just humor me," Reinhard insisted softly.

Reluctantly, Felt took the insignia from Reinhard's hand. The moment she grasped it, the insignia began to emit a bright red glow.

Reinhard's eyes widened slightly, confirming his suspicions. "As I thought," he murmured, his expression a mix of awe and realization.

Felt, surprised by the glowing insignia, quickly handed it back to Reinhard. "What the hell is that?" she asked, clearly unnerved.

Reinhard carefully took the insignia back and handed it to Emilia. "Thank you, Felt. This insignia glows when it comes into contact with someone of royal blood. It appears that you have a significant destiny ahead of you."

Felt looked bewildered, while Rom stood protectively beside her, unsure of what to make of the revelation.

Reinhard, having confirmed his suspicions, he returned the insignia to Emilia and then turned to Felt. "Felt, you need to come with me. It's important for you and the kingdom."

Felt, still processing the glow of the insignia, stepped back. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't know what's going on, but I'm not leaving with some stranger."

Understanding her resistance, Reinhard sighed. "I'm sorry about this." With a swift, precise motion, he gently tapped a pressure point on Felt's neck. She fell unconscious into his arms.

Old Man Rom, witnessing the swift turn of events, was alarmed. "What are you doing to her?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Reinhard, still holding Felt carefully, looked at Rom with a calm demeanor. "I understand your worry, but Felt is someone of great importance. I need to take her to ensure her safety and to help her understand who she is."

Rom hesitated but then spoke again. "You can't just take her like that. She's all I've got."

Reinhard nodded. "I understand how much she means to you. That's why I want you to come with us. When she wakes up, she'll need to see a familiar face, someone she trusts. It's important for her to feel safe."

Rom looked at Felt, then back at Reinhard. After a moment of silence, he nodded reluctantly. "Alright, I'll go with you. Just make sure she's safe."

Reinhard smiled reassuringly. "Thank you. I promise, I'll do everything I can to protect her."

Emilia, who had been silent, finally spoke up, her voice full of concern. "Reinhard, what will happen to her? If she's really a candidate... what does that mean for her future?"

Reinhard looked at Emilia, his expression softening slightly. "It means her life will change forever. She'll be thrust into the world of politics and power, with all the dangers that come with it. But I will do everything in my power to protect her, just as I do for all those under my care."

Gilgamesh, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally interjected, his tone laced with mild interest. "So, this girl may be a candidate for the throne? How amusing. The fates truly are whimsical, aren't they?"

Reinhard glanced at Gilgamesh, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, though he chose not to address him directly. Instead, he returned his focus to Emilia. "Thank you for your cooperation, Lady Emilia. And you as well, Sir. I'll ensure that Felt is taken care of. For now, I recommend you return to safety. The streets aren't safe tonight."

Emilia nodded, though her worry for Felt remained. "I understand. Please... take good care of her."

Reinhard offered her a reassuring smile. "I will. And please send me a full report on what happened here Lady Emilia"

With that, Reinhard adjusted Felt in his arms and began to leave, Rom following closely behind, still visibly shaken but resolute in his decision to stay by Felt's side. As they disappeared into the night, the atmosphere grew still, the earlier tension slowly dissipating.

Emilia turned to Gilgamesh who restored the chest of gold, her expression a mixture of relief and lingering unease. "Thank you for everything, Gilgamesh. I don't know what we would have done without you."

Gilgamesh waved off her gratitude with a casual gesture, his eyes gleaming with self-satisfaction. "Think nothing of it, Emilia. It was a mere trifle for someone of my caliber. But remember this: I do not involve myself in the affairs of others lightly. There will come a time when I will call upon you to repay this debt."

Emilia nodded, though a small part of her felt a pang of uncertainty at his words. "I understand. But for now, I'm just glad we were able to retrieve the insignia."

Gilgamesh's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned away, his attention already drifting to other matters. "Indeed. But be wary, Emilia. The path you walk is fraught with danger. Stay vigilant, or you may find yourself ensnared in forces beyond your control."

As Gilgamesh began to walk away, his golden armor catching the last glimmers of the setting sun, Emilia hesitated. She was grateful for his help, despite the unease she felt in his presence. There was something she couldn't ignore—he was new to this world, just as she had been years ago. And in spite of his overwhelming power and arrogance, he might need a place to stay.

"Gilgamesh, wait!" Emilia called out, her voice echoing slightly in the now quiet street.

Gilgamesh paused mid-step, turning his head slightly to look at her with mild curiosity. "Yes, Emilia?"

Emilia gathered her thoughts quickly, knowing that she had to approach this carefully. "You said you were brought to this world against your will, right? Do you... have a place to stay? Somewhere safe, I mean?"

Gilgamesh regarded her with a raised eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and surprise in his expression. "You presume that I, the King of Heroes, would require assistance in such a matter? I could claim any residence I desire or create one befitting my status with ease."

Emilia flushed slightly, but she pressed on, her concern for him genuine despite his dismissive attitude. "I understand that, and I'm sure you could. But... you're new here, and I imagine there's still much about this world that's unfamiliar to you. If you'd like, you can stay at my place for a while. It's not much, but it's safe and comfortable."

Puck, floating beside her, tilted his head curiously, watching the exchange with interest.

Gilgamesh studied Emilia for a moment, his crimson eyes searching her face. She was offering him a place to stay not out of obligation or fear, but out of a genuine desire to help. It was a gesture he hadn't expected, and for that reason alone, it intrigued him.

"Interesting," Gilgamesh mused, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Very well, Emilia. I shall accept your offer. Consider it a payment for the services I rendered tonight. I suppose it might prove... entertaining."

Emilia smiled, relief washing over her. "Thank you, Gilgamesh. I'll do my best to make sure you're comfortable."

Gilgamesh nodded, his gaze still holding that enigmatic glint. "Lead the way, then."

As they began their walk back to Emilia's home, Puck whispered in Emilia's ear, "Are you sure about this, Lia? He's not exactly... the safest guest to have around."

Emilia nodded slightly, her voice soft. "I know, Puck. But I have a feeling that there's more to him than what we've seen. Besides, he did help us tonight. It's the least I can do."

Puck sighed, his form flickering slightly as the night drew on. He knew his time in the physical realm was limited. "I'm starting to tire out," he admitted, his voice softer now. "But I trust your judgment, Emilia. Just be careful, okay? I'll see you in the morning." With a final, weary glance at Emilia, Puck's form began to dissipate, retreating to his spiritual state until the next day.

The duo continued through the quiet streets, the tension of the night slowly ebbing away. Gilgamesh followed Emilia, his thoughts already shifting toward the unknown challenges and intrigues this world might present. He had no doubt that whatever lay ahead, it would be worthy of his attention.

As they walked through the dimly lit streets of Lugunica, Emilia suddenly remembered that she had arranged for a carriage to transport them back to her home. She paused, turning to Gilgamesh with a gentle smile.

"Actually, Gilgamesh, we don't have to walk all the way. I arranged for a carriage to pick us up. It should be arriving soon."

Gilgamesh simply nodded, his expression neutral as he stood by her side, his regal presence unmistakable even in the quiet streets.

After a few moments, the sound of hooves clattering against the cobblestones reached their ears. Emilia turned to see a carriage approaching, drawn by an earth dragon and driven by a young girl in a maid outfit. Her hair was a striking shade of pink, neatly tied up in twin braids. As the carriage came to a stop in front of them, the girl expertly reined in the dragon and hopped down gracefully.

"Good evening, Lady Emilia," the girl said, her voice soft yet clear. She gave a respectful bow before glancing at Gilgamesh with a curious, yet composed expression.

"Good evening, Ram," Emilia replied warmly. "Thank you for coming to pick us up."

Ram's sharp eyes briefly assessed Gilgamesh, noting his imposing presence and the regal air that surrounded him. "Is this your guest, Lady Emilia?" she asked, her tone polite but with an undertone of wariness.

"Yes," Emilia confirmed. "This is Gilgamesh. He'll be staying with us for a while."

Ram's gaze flickered with a hint of surprise, though she quickly masked it. "I see. Welcome, Lord Gilgamesh. Please allow me to escort you both to the mansion."

Gilgamesh simply gave a curt nod, acknowledging her with a faint smirk. "Very well."

Ram opened the carriage door, and Emilia stepped inside first, followed by Gilgamesh. The interior of the carriage was modest but comfortable, with cushioned seats and a warm atmosphere. Ram returned to the front and took her place at the reins, guiding the earth dragon as the carriage smoothly set off.

As they traveled through the night, Emilia glanced at Gilgamesh, who was silently gazing out of the window, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere. She wondered what was going through his mind, this enigmatic man who had so suddenly entered her life.

"Gilgamesh," Emilia began, her voice soft to avoid disturbing his thoughts. "I know you're incredibly powerful, but if there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask. My home may not be grand by your standards, but it's safe and welcoming."

Gilgamesh turned his attention to her, his crimson eyes meeting hers. "Your hospitality is noted, Emilia. I do not require much, only that you do not waste my time with trivial matters."

Emilia nodded, understanding his intent. "Of course. I'll do my best to ensure your stay is as comfortable as possible."

Gilgamesh merely gave a brief nod before returning his gaze to the window, his thoughts drifting back to the battle earlier. Emilia's offer was generous, and while he had no need for shelter, he found the idea of staying in her home... intriguing. It would allow him to observe this world more closely, and perhaps uncover something truly worthy of his attention.

The carriage ride continued in silence, with only the soft sounds of the earth dragon's footsteps and the occasional creak of the carriage breaking the stillness. Emilia, though curious, refrained from asking more questions, sensing that Gilgamesh preferred his solitude for the moment. Instead, she allowed her mind to wander, pondering the events of the night and what lay ahead.

Finally, the carriage came to a halt as they arrived at Roswaal's mansion. The grand estate stood tall against the night sky, its imposing structure both beautiful and intimidating. Ram quickly dismounted and opened the carriage door, bowing respectfully as she allowed Emilia and Gilgamesh to step out.

"Welcome home, Lady Emilia," Ram said with her usual poise. "I shall inform Lord Roswaal of your return."

Emilia nodded, offering Ram a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ram. That would be helpful."

Ram then turned to Gilgamesh, her expression as unreadable as ever. "Lord Gilgamesh, if you require anything, please do not hesitate to ask. I will do my best to assist you."

Gilgamesh's gaze swept over the mansion, taking in its grandeur before he finally addressed Ram. "Your service is noted. Ensure that I am not disturbed unnecessarily."

Ram bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment. "Of course."

As Ram departed to inform Roswaal of their arrival, Emilia led Gilgamesh through the mansion's grand entrance. The interior was even more impressive, with elegant furnishings, polished marble floors, and intricate tapestries adorning the walls. The ambiance was one of luxury, yet it was clear that the mansion was also a place of importance and power.

"I hope you find your stay here comfortable," Emilia said as they walked. "I'll show you to your room. If there's anything specific you'd like, just let me know."

Gilgamesh glanced around the mansion with a discerning eye. "This place will suffice for now. As I said, do not trouble me with trivial matters."

Emilia nodded, though she couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness. Gilgamesh was an enigmatic figure, and while she was grateful for his help, she couldn't shake the feeling that his presence would bring both challenges and unexpected developments.

They eventually reached a guest room, its door opening to reveal a spacious and well-furnished chamber. The room was adorned with fine draperies, a large bed, and a view of the mansion's gardens. It was clear that this was one of the finest rooms the mansion had to offer.

"This will be your room during your stay," Emilia said, gesturing to the space. "If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask."

Gilgamesh stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the room before he turned to Emilia. "This will do. You may leave me now, Emilia. I have much to consider."

Emilia gave a respectful nod, sensing that it was time to let him be. "Of course. I'll see you in the morning, then. Have a good night, Gilgamesh."

With that, she quietly exited the room, leaving Gilgamesh alone in the chamber. As the door closed behind her, Gilgamesh stood in the center of the room, his thoughts finally free to roam without interruption.

This world, with its strange rules and peculiar inhabitants, was unlike any he had encountered before. Yet, in its mysteries, he sensed the potential for something truly extraordinary. He would stay, for now, and see where this path would lead him. Perhaps it would prove to be the most entertaining challenge he had faced in a long time.

With a satisfied smirk, Gilgamesh made his way to the window, gazing out at the night sky. The stars above twinkled brightly, as if acknowledging the presence of a king among them. Yes, this world held promise, and Gilgamesh was more than ready to see what it had to offer.