The Uruk soldiers stationed outside the Monster Forest looked at each other—moved by Rovi's words, but also shaken by the sheer scale of the monster uprising.
There had been signs of trouble.
But even these seasoned veterans, tasked with guarding the land outside the forest, couldn't understand why this time the horde was so overwhelming—beyond anything they had ever seen.
Yet Rovi remained calm.
Because the scope of this riot was his doing—while magical beasts were much more extraordinary than ordinary animals, at the end of the day, they were still beasts.
And as long as they were beasts, they could be driven to frenzy by certain outside stimuli.
The treasures from the [Gate of Babylon], already deployed and gleaming at the forest's edge, were precisely that stimulus.
Any treasure worthy of Gilgamesh's collection—while perhaps not on par with the gods—wasn't far behind.
Such a display of power delivered a shock of crisis to the magical beasts, and that alone was enough to provoke the chaos now sweeping over the land.
"Fall back—this is not something you can withstand!" Rovi called out over the roaring flood of beasts and crashing undergrowth, stepping to the other side of the wall and glancing at the guard captain.
The young, broad-shouldered warrior hesitated only a moment, knowing they could not delay any longer.
"Everyone—retreat inside the wall!" he shouted, adding, "Priest, please be careful!"
The soldiers quickly fell back behind the walls.
The gates closed.
Now, between the wall and the forest, only Rovi stood alone—facing a storm like thunder made flesh.
Around him, the golden ripples of the [Gate of Babylon] shimmered brighter than ever.
Every possible obstacle had been cleared.
Rovi smiled.
He gripped his priestly robe tighter, and instead of retreating, strode forward to meet the tide.
With all eyes upon him—
He only grew more cheerful.
Not just because his goal was within reach, but also because of what he was doing, here and now.
He'd always found his "golden finger" a bit of a hassle.
But the power he'd gained—only after dying once, at the apex of the Throne of Heroes—had always been his one true trump card.
With it, he was never afraid of death.
With it, things that would have terrified others meant nothing to him.
Whether it was cursing out Gilgamesh in public, or clashing with Ishtar—on the surface, it was all to get himself killed, but in truth, these were things he genuinely wanted to do, but could never have dared otherwise.
Right now was no different.
Having the Uruk soldiers retreat behind the wall, facing the monstrous horde alone.
Defending the border, protecting the homeland.
The soldiers of Uruk were all men of unwavering faith.
They shouldn't have to die here.
They deserved longer lives—more journeys ahead.
And besides…
I get to be a heroic martyr, just this once!
It was a perfect, mutual victory.
Rovi stopped in his tracks.
The roars of the beasts came crashing in, the world ahead buried in dust and smoke, dozens of blood-red eyes blazing with madness from within.
He stretched out his arms.
This, of course, wasn't a gesture of surrender. So many were watching—Rovi might want to die, but this wasn't the way he wanted to go.
To make a dramatic entrance, only to be torn apart in an instant—that wasn't a hero's death. That was a clown's.
Maybe, by sheer luck, a clown could end up on the Throne of Heroes.
But that would never let Rovi take the throne he'd claimed for himself.
Otherwise, he could have just killed himself long ago.
So Rovi planned to clear a path first—and then, just as the script demanded, fake a fatal mistake when only a few monsters remained.
At that moment—
Brilliant streams of light gathered, his Noble Phantasms vibrating with surging power, their razor edges splitting the air into ribbons of pale white.
"If you've got guts, come on then—let's see what you've got!" Rovi spread his arms wide, black eyes reflecting an endless army.
The once blue sky was now awash in crimson, flooded by the monstrous surge of magical energy.
Inside the walls, every soldier held his breath.
On the ramparts, all eyes were locked on the scene below.
They knew—
No matter the outcome, they would never forget what they saw here today.
It was a scene that could have come from the height of ancient myth.
A mighty hero, his presence alone driving back the monsters that plagued mankind; an ancient sage splitting the sea with a divine staff.
There was no need for close combat—no need for steel to cross.
The battle was already decided.
Indeed.
The monster horde, after Rovi's declaration echoed over the field… halted, their momentum broken.
Then, one after another—
They turned and fled.
Dust whirled over falling leaves.
A silent, empty expanse.
Rovi stood frozen, dumbfounded.
On the surface, it looked like he'd single-handedly terrified the rampaging monsters into fleeing—the very beasts that had been a scourge on Uruk's borders.
But Rovi himself was completely lost.
Wait, why are you all running?
Get back here!
Are magical beasts really this cowardly!?
He wanted to shout his frustration.
But very soon, Rovi understood why the monsters had retreated.
Is that… a song of sorrow? Rovi lifted his head, and with a priest's keen senses, caught a faint resonance beneath the thunderous howls and pounding earth.
A song tinged with divinity.
But filled with pain.
Recalling the "shooting star" he'd seen before, Rovi suddenly understood—
The goddess who made Enkidu… Aruru?
It wasn't Enkidu.
But the goddess who had shaped Enkidu's vessel from clay to hold the power of the gods—she had landed here, in this forest?
And, as later legends told, Enkidu had indeed first been born in a silent, ancient forest.
Of course, like Ishtar before, this goddess Aruru was likely present only in a vessel.
But a goddess was still a goddess. Even in such a state, her presence surpassed nearly all mortals. Only demigods like Gilgamesh could stand as her equal.
The monsters, hearing the clear resonance of her song, wouldn't dare disobey.
Maybe…
This riot had started because the monsters, sensing her imminent arrival, panicked—desperate to flee this place.
Rovi fell deep into thought.
It's said that when the goddess Aruru was tasked by the gods with crafting Enkidu's form, she agonized over her inability to shape it perfectly…
And just from the song, you can hear how troubled she is.
She's lost confidence in her craft—
In that state, it's easy for outside forces to pull her off balance, stir her emotions, make her irritable, quick to anger…
Got it.
Time to get over there and mock her—immediately!