Having successfully "sent off" Ziusudra, Rovi lingered in place for a moment, not rushing to immediately follow after.
He wanted Ziusudra to go first.
To keep distance between them.
To reduce the chance of influence—or rather, trouble. Of course, Rovi also had no plans to return to his residence, lest Enkidu "cling" to him and cause more wounds of the heart.
So instead, he found a small inn in the city and lodged there for the night.
He rested until dawn.
When the sky was still pale, he naturally woke.
Since his transmigration, Rovi had always kept strict discipline over his habits. If he was to find the best way to die at the most opportune moment, he had to live in rhythm, ready at all times.
And over time, this had become habit.
Even though now he barely needed sleep, he still made sure to let himself fall into slumber at the proper time.
When the hour came, his eyes opened of their own accord.
A quick wash, a simple straightening of his robe—and then he stepped outside.
The chill of night lingered in the dawn breeze, brushing against him with a faint bite. Rovi yawned, patted the linen robe he wore, and strolled down the empty street.
Uruk at this hour—or any city, really, outside festival days—rarely had souls awake.
Dim lamps. Faint, gray light.
He stopped briefly, casting a glance toward the one building lit at its peak—the royal palace where Gilgamesh resided. Rovi shook his head, then turned and moved on.
Through the drifting sand and wind, he set out toward his first destination: a small city-state under Akkad's influence.
Of course, before leaving, Rovi had also retrieved the envoy's seal from Gilgamesh's [Gate of Babylon].
He had studied it carefully—then fought down the powerful impulse to start stamping it onto everything in sight—and tucked it away.
The king's seal carried special authority.
On important matters, Gilgamesh would always stamp it as the sign of his will.
And while Rovi enjoyed sparring with the golden tyrant, he really didn't want history to record some strange, twisted legend because of his antics.
Things like—"Gilgamesh, in the midst of countless duties, personally approved the mating of a sow," which might then mutate into "When sows go into heat, go ask King Goldie."
Funny? Absolutely.
Tempting? Dangerous.
Damn, I really do want to try it though…
Rovi took a deep breath, forced himself to toss the seal back into the rippling treasury, and refocused.
The sands stretched endlessly before him, the once-dim sky brightening. He had already left Uruk far behind, heading north, ever closer to the small city-state.
But before he even reached it, something felt wrong.
Too quiet. Far too quiet.
He stopped, scanning the land—sunlight spilling over the plains, dusty earth, scattered vegetation. Nothing amiss. Yet…
Rovi frowned. Best to find someone and ask.
He wanted to die, yes.
But one had to find the right pit to jump into, didn't they?
Closing his eyes, he stretched his senses—and soon found traces of people nearby.
"You're heading that way?" Several merchants pulling donkey carts laden with goods looked up as Rovi approached, travel-worn yet unmistakably refined. They didn't think much of it.
This road saw countless traders pass, and lone wanderers of unusual bearing were not rare either.
As long as blades weren't drawn at first sight, there was little risk—under the eyes of the gods.
"Yes. I'm headed for that city-state ahead…"
Rovi gave the name of the other place—the one he'd told Ziusudra yesterday, close enough to be plausible, but actually different.
Both were along the same road.
"Then I advise you don't go," said the bearded merchant leader, his white headscarf rustling as he shook his head. "Many people are fleeing from there."
"Fleeing—?" Rovi blinked, puzzled.
But inwardly, his stomach sank.
Don't tell me that old man… pulled something!?
"Yes, fleeing." The merchant nodded gravely, fear in his eyes. "There's death. Countless dead. They say the nobles of the inner city have all been slaughtered. Ghostly blue fire rose through the streets. The nobles dying—well, no one much mourns them, they tormented us often enough…"
"But—people swear they saw the killer. Clad in armor like a demon, wielding a massive sword."
"They heard him speak: The ruler of this city has reached the end of his destiny."
"In the name of Uruk's sage, Rovi—I toll the death knell for this city!"
…Fuck.
Rovi instantly understood.
He had told Ziusudra to "scout" the city for him—and even emphasized discretion.
And this… this was his idea of discretion?
Even invoking Rovi's name!?
No good.
Rovi knew he had to stop this immediately.
At this rate, his "renown" would spread across nations. And when he arrived anywhere, far from being attacked, the rulers would probably prostrate themselves in fear!
Bidding farewell to the merchants, Rovi sprinted toward the doomed city.
...
Moments later...
Still morning.
The mists of the Euphrates clung to the air.
Ahead, by the river, rose the city-state—its walls gleaming in the sun like rippling waves.
Yet, interlaced with golden light, ghostly blue sparks flickered.
Dong… dong… dong…
A vast bell tolled, echoing like the roar of eternity itself.
Rovi quickened his pace.
He could sense survivors still clinging to life. If he could just save one, drag them out alive, and explain this mess had nothing to do with him—maybe, maybe, he could salvage his reputation…
But he was too late.
Within the palace, sunlight streamed through the windows, dust drifting like suspended ash.
No blood. No screams.
Yet the bodies lay silent, wounds already still.
Rovi froze at the threshold, staring at the towering figure inside.
"With life comes death. With death, comes life."
"When the bell of destiny tolls its end, no one may stop it—"
Amid the flickering azure fire, cloaked and armored, a pale mask crowned with curling horns. The giant lifted his greatsword—and brought it down upon the last living soul.
"Wait—hey, leave at least… leave some alive…" Rovi tried to shout, but before his voice even reached the figure, the blade had already fallen—severing the final thread of fate.
Ziusudra turned his gaze toward him.
Rovi: "…"
Annihilating a nation single-handedly—this is your idea of protection!?
Wiping out every witness counts as "stealth"!?
"Yes. Precisely."
Ziusudra's rasping voice carried utter conviction. "To guard against everything is to guard against nothing. Thus, leaving no defenses is the greatest defense!"
"From this day forward, your name shall thunder through the northern nations."
"Who would dare move against you now?"
…Move?
Who the hell would dare move!?
---
T/N: KLMAOOO GRANDPA