Law exists not to demonstrate "kindness and rcy," but to pursue "relative fairness."
Whether it's the Code of Hammurabi or the Code of Ur-Nammu, both uphold a brutal principle—lex talionis, or "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."
The Herb of Immortality, to Gilgash, represented a second chance at life—a miracle he had suffered greatly to obtain, all in hopes of bringing prosperity to Uruk.
And yet, in a mont of carelessness, this snake had swallowed that hard-won hope.
Even though the King of Heroes had matured from a reckless tyrant into a wise ruler, he was far from the kind of man to forgive a sinner out of so shallow sense of motherly compassion.
Under the creed of equal retribution, Gilgash wouldn't be in the wrong to stew the thief who stole the Herb of Immortality.
And since this snake had dared to invoke the law in its own defense, then it had better be prepared for the consequences—for justice from the rightful owner.
That was fairness.
Of course, a certain wise king would never admit that.
He was indulging this because he was entertained, curious to see how this serpent would squirm when pushed to the brink.
Ah, pleasure—once tasted, it's impossible to let go.
As the blades of countless weapons drew nearer, glinting in the light, Gilgash stood frad in shadow and sun, the corners of his lips curling with amusent.
"Enkidu!"
The na burst from Ian's mouth as the sharp wind sliced away at his scales and the rope that held his life swayed on the verge of snapping.
There was no ti to choose his words. His vertical pupils shrank in panic as he spat out the one na that might save him.
But the mont the word left his tongue, everything changed.
The once-relaxed King of Heroes, lounging on his throne with a hand under his chin, his expression tinged with dark amusent—froze.
A shriek of air split the silence. A pair of divine weapons flashed through the sky—one a massive sword shaped like demonic wings, the other a heavy double-edged broadsword inscribed with cuneiform runes—ripping through the space on either side of Ian.
The violent wind pressure shredded his scales. Even without direct contact, the force burst open a fog of blood from his body.
The pain—like having his flesh torn from the bone—made his eyes bulge and his long body tremble uncontrollably.
Boom! Boom!
The wasteland split open with two deep gashes. Shockwaves blasted the surrounding cedars from the ground, hurling soil and stone into the air.
"Who gave you permission to speak his na, mongrel?!"
Gilgash was no longer the amused observer. His expression turned dark, and blood surged in his crimson eyes. His voice, low and cutting, dripped with fury and tyrannical bloodlust.
For the proud and solitary King of Heroes, Enkidu was arguably the only friend he had ever truly acknowledged.
After his beloved companion was cursed by the gods and died, that na beca the deepest wound in Gilgash's heart.
If this snake couldn't give him a satisfying explanation, he wouldn't hesitate to show the world the tyrant he once was.
Just as Ian lay half-dead, skewered and bleeding, a red-and-green plant resembling a cal thorn blood faintly from within his body. Its petals and leaves slowly unfurled.
Ripples of light washed over his form. Scales regrew, torn flesh nded—the Herb of Immortality had finally taken effect.
Any longer, and Ian would've been writhing in agony.
As soon as he regained so strength, Ian hissed desperately and blurted out the rest of his explanation.
"King Gilgash! I ant no offense to your dearest friend!"
"On the contrary—after consuming the Herb of Immortality, I drifted into a long dream. In it, I saw faint glimpses, vague images…"
"In the near future, you will be reunited with your beloved Enkidu."
"This... is my gift to you!"
...
After a tense silence, the crushing pressure over Ian's head slowly lifted.
The tightly-wound serpent collapsed limply, as if soone had ripped out his spine.
Gilgash's face remained unreadable. His brows furrowed and eased, his expression distant. All emotions were buried beneath that towering pride, leaving no trace of what he truly felt.
"Your Majesty, you possess the Clairvoyance to see into the future. No lie can escape your perception."
Ian spoke cautiously, choosing his words with care.
In ancient tis, heroes of divine descent often held so form of foresight—and among them, Gilgash stood at the pinnacle.
Though the ability known as Clairvoyance couldn't clearly reveal future events in detail, it could still sense the likelihood of certain things happening. That alone was often enough.
"And this thirtyfold compensation of yours… is based on unverifiable foresight?"
Gilgash, silent for a beat as if lost in thought, slowly opened his eyes. A cold smile curved his lips.
Whew… the hardest part was over.
If he wanted to survive, he had to stay composed.
Ian took a slow, deep breath to steady himself, cleared his thoughts, and raised his head with calm seriousness.
"The Herb of Immortality is indeed beyond price."
"And the bond between you and Enkidu-sama—there is no treasure in the world that could compare."
"To offer gold or jewels would only cheapen your friendship with Enkidu-sama. What I offer… is sothing priceless for sothing priceless."
"Besides, I believe that to you, this bond is worth far more than any Herb of Immortality. Far more than thirtyfold."
A smile gradually tugged at Gilgash's lips until he burst into rich, resonant laughter, his core muscles aching from amusent. For a mont, he even had the urge to grab a nearby clay tablet and record the event for posterity.
"Hahaha! Fascinating! Absolutely fascinating!"
"I actually feel the urge to raise you in the palace and appoint you as Uruk's Chief Judge."
With that, the King of Heroes planted both hands on the throne and stood, stretching his limbs with satisfaction.
"For the pleasure you've brought —twice now—I'll pardon you for your theft."
"Rejoice, mongrel!"
The sword of Damocles that had hung over Ian's head was finally lifted. As his senses returned, he was filled with the joy of having narrowly escaped death.
But before he could fully exhale in relief, a storm of magical energy swirled around them.
In utter disbelief, Ian watched as Gilgash reached into the golden vortex that connected to the Babylonian treasury and withdrew a bizarre weapon—red and black patterns twisting along its body.
It wasn't a blade in the traditional sense. The tip wasn't sharp. Its cylindrical body was segnted into three rotating sections, spinning in opposite directions around the hilt.
"King Gilgash… you've already pardoned , haven't you?"
Ian's body tensed up, his voice dry and hesitant.
"That's right. Your theft has been forgiven…"
Gilgash smiled strangely as he slowly lowered the Divine Construct, Ea.
"But to offend your king… to twist the law with sweet words, to manipulate hearts…"
"Those sins remain unpaid."
"Therefore, I now declare—"
"You shall be exiled to where you belong."
"Your status as a free citizen is hereby revoked."
His tone was laced with mocking insight, the kind that pierced straight through the soul.
A free man? Not anymore.
Suddenly, the space around Ian cracked open under overwhelming divine power. A swirling black vortex ford beneath him—and the guilty snake was swallowed whole.
When the storm passed, Gilgash casually returned the Ea that had torn open the world's fabric to the Babylonian treasury.
Then, the King of Heroes stood alone on the windswept wasteland. He bent down beside the hot spring and picked up what the snake had left behind after stealing the Herb of Immortality—its shed skin.
He toyed with it, wrapping it around his fingers, then lifted his crimson gaze to the sky above, an unreadable glint in his eyes.
So… you couldn't hold back after all.
...
anwhile, in a dim and silent realm, a swirling black current churned across a vast, lifeless expanse. On either bank stood tower-like spear cages, each glowing with flickering, ghostly blue flas.
Among them, golden silhouettes moved with tireless precision—like bees crafting sacred cells.
One of them, sensing sothing, paused.
She lifted her head slightly, extended her arms, and scooped a handful of water from the churning black stream.
And with it… a limp, unconscious snake.
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