Romania, Europe.
Not far from Bucharest—yet distant enough that human civilization felt like a faint echo—stood a vast estate hidden deep within an ancient forest. Towering pines surrounded the grounds like silent sentinels, their branches weaving together to form a natural canopy that blocked the moonlight and muffled the outside world.
Within the largest chamber of the residence, warm golden lights illuminated marble floors and velvet furnishings.
Gilgamesh sat comfortably upon a luxurious sofa, one leg crossed over the other, a porcelain teacup resting lightly in his hand.
Steam rose gently from the surface.
He took a slow sip.
Calm.
In front of him, sprawled atop an ornate rug, lay a massive golden lion.
Its fur shimmered faintly in the lamplight, every strand reflecting ancient divinity. The creature's breathing was steady, its massive body relaxed, though its eyes occasionally flicked open in wary awareness.
This was Regulus.
The Lion King of Nemea.
The beast slain by Hercules in Greek mythology.
Once a divine monster.
Now sealed into a Sacred Gear.
One of the thirteen Longinus.
Regulus Nemea.
Currently, however, the fearsome Lion King was in a far less dignified position.
Enkidu lay sprawled atop Regulus's back, arms wrapped loosely around the massive neck while absentmindedly rubbing the lion's mane.
Regulus twitched.
His tail flicked.
His ears flattened.
A nervous glint appeared in his eyes.
Yet he didn't dare move.
Gilgamesh watched the scene with mild amusement as he set his teacup down.
It had been several hours since the confrontation with Sairaorg Bael and the Church's exorcists.
Several hours since the world had learned the truth.
A descendant of Gilgamesh had appeared.
And he possessed not one—
—but two Longinus.
The reaction had been immediate.
Violent.
Chaotic.
Within minutes of Gilgamesh leaving the battlefield, angels had descended upon the region in an attempt to locate him and forcibly recruit—or detain—him.
Other factions followed shortly after.
Devils.
Fallen Angels.
Independent organizations.
All mobilized.
After all, the name Gilgamesh carried terrifying weight.
He was remembered not merely as a hero.
But as the mortal who forced God and the Original Maou to acknowledge fear.
Even Indra—the King of the Hindu Gods, commander of the most powerful faction in existence—had once hesitated at the mention of Gilgamesh's name.
Indra.
A being willing to fight Shiva, the Hindu God of Destruction.
A deity second only to Ophis and Great Red.
And yet…
He feared Gilgamesh.
That alone spoke volumes.
Which was precisely why Gilgamesh preferred remaining hidden.
His ancestor's legend cast too long a shadow.
The moment he revealed himself openly, every faction would either attempt to recruit him—or eliminate him before he became uncontrollable.
Now that nightmare had begun.
A descendant of the King of Heroes.
Possessor of multiple Longinus.
From the perspective of the supernatural world, this was nothing short of catastrophic.
Gilgamesh exhaled softly.
Problematic.
That was the only word for it.
Still, he had come to Romania for a reason.
Valerie Tepes.
The Sephiroth Graal.
Rizevim Livan Lucifer's key to resurrecting Trihexa (666).
If Gilgamesh could rescue Valerie, then one of the darkest future catastrophes would be erased entirely.
That alone made the trip worthwhile.
Yet he had not wasted the journey.
During his downtime, Gilgamesh had begun experimenting with his newest acquisition.
The Gura Gura no Mi.
He grimaced faintly at the memory.
Calling its taste "terrible" would have been an understatement.
It had been like swallowing concentrated hatred mixed with rusted iron.
Devil Fruit indeed.
Still, its power was undeniable.
....
[Gura Gura no Mi]
The Tremor Fruit.
A Paramecia-type Devil Fruit granting control over vibrations.
Shockwaves.
Earthquakes.
Tsunamis.
Air fractures.
The ability to shatter cities with a single strike.
Even Sengoku himself had stated it possessed world-ending potential.
And Gilgamesh believed it.
He had tested it carefully—very carefully—deep underground with Sebas reinforcing layered barriers.
A casual vibration had cracked bedrock.
A focused strike had split a mountain.
More concerning was how naturally it synergized with Regulus Nemea.
The Lion King's axe could already fracture continents.
Combined with Gura Gura's vibrations…
The destructive output rose exponentially.
A terrifying combination.
Yet unlike traditional Devil Fruit users, Gilgamesh had discovered something peculiar.
He had no weakness to water.
None.
No paralysis.
No sinking.
No loss of power.
Whether this was due to the System, his demigod physiology, or the influence of his Sacred Gears remained unclear.
But he welcomed it.
Another restriction removed.
....
Gilgamesh glanced toward Regulus.
The Lion King lifted his head slightly, sensing the attention.
Then immediately froze as Enkidu tightened his hug.
"…Relax," Enkidu said cheerfully. "You're warm."
Regulus let out a low, resigned growl.
Gilgamesh smiled faintly.
....
Regulus Nemea.
One of the thirteen Longinus.
A Sacred Gear capable of splitting the Earth.
Its Balance Breaker had already unlocked.
Regulus Rey Leather Rex.
Golden armor.
Projectile immunity.
Massive physical amplification.
And beyond that…
Breakdown of Best.
Imperial Purpure.
A form rivaling Juggernaut Drive.
Power sufficient to overwhelm Satan-class devils and low-ranking gods.
At the cost of life force.
Dangerous.
But devastating.
Gilgamesh flexed his fingers slowly.
Zenith Tempest granted dominion over nature.
Regulus Nemea granted dominion over the battlefield.
Gura Gura granted dominion over destruction.
He was becoming something far beyond what the Goddesses originally intended.
Perhaps.
Or perhaps this was exactly what they wanted.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Too many eyes were turning toward Romania.
Too many factions were moving.
And Valerie's location wouldn't remain hidden forever.
Gilgamesh opened his eyes.
His crimson gaze sharpened.
The Lion King shifted beneath Enkidu, sensing the change in atmosphere.
Soon.
Very soon.
The Vampires would learn that the King of Heroes had arrived.
And when they did—
Romania would remember his name.
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