That Night.
The tactical discussion regarding the battle against Tiamat had concluded. Dismissing the gathered people, Gilgamesh declared:
"To prepare for tomorrow's battle, one must get the best rest."
After a long and exhausting day, Fujimaru and the others were also ready to take a break.
Alaric, however, followed a peculiar sensation and arrived at the Hill of Heaven before Gilgamesh did.
There, he saw a helpless green figure.
"Hey, Kingu, you're in quite a miserable state!"
Alaric greeted with a smile, prompting the bewildered Kingu to instinctively turn his head.
Upon seeing that it was Alaric, Kingu, who was squatting on the ground, attempted to stand up—only to fail. Having lost the Holy Grail, he seemed to be reverting to divine mud.
The same posture Enkidu had when he died.
"It's you—"
Kingu's expression was despondent as if he felt a tinge of disappointment that Alaric had come.
Alaric was not the friend this body longed to see.
The emotions surging within him were an instinctive yearning at the brink of collapse—the deep-seated longing that the original vessel, Enkidu, had for his friend.
But that was not Kingu's yearning. A friend was only Enkidu's friend. As for Kingu—
Looking at the Chains of Heaven, which had once put him under immense pressure, Alaric now felt utterly relaxed.
"You seem disappointed. Are you waiting for someone? Perhaps Gilgamesh?"
"That is the will of this vessel—Enkidu's thoughts, not mine."
Surprisingly honest, Kingu lowered his head and said, "I—"
"You're very lost, Kingu."
Seeing him in such a despondent state, Alaric seemed to understand something and chuckled.
"I never knew Enkidu. The only Chains of Heaven I know is you, Kingu. To me, you are the Chains of Heaven."
"..."
Drawn in by Alaric's seemingly sincere words, Kingu's expression froze.
"But what exactly is your relationship with Enkidu?"
Alaric stroked his chin.
"If it's just a difference in soul, then you could be considered siblings, right?"
The previously heavy atmosphere gradually dissipated with Alaric's words—even Kingu was affected.
"I suppose we are siblings… but I am the child of Mother."
Unexpectedly, Kingu followed up with a reply.
Alaric had fought him multiple times before, even slain Gorgon.
He was Kingu's enemy.
Yet at this moment, they could converse normally.
"Not much of a difference."
Alaric shrugged with an indifferent expression.
"So why are you here?"
As their conversation deepened, the gloom on Kingu's face faded, replaced by curiosity about Alaric's reason for coming to the Hill of Heaven.
"It's a farewell."
Gazing at the night sky, Alaric smiled.
"Kingu, when parting ways, people must bid farewell—to prepare for separation from those they know."
"You, as a new human, can't possibly lose to the old humans in this regard, can you?"
"Fa—rewell?"
Kingu was momentarily dazed. He understood the meaning of the word, but he couldn't grasp whom Alaric had come to bid farewell to.
"To you, of course. After all, we do know each other, don't we?"
Alaric had followed the connection to Tiamat and found Kingu here.
Seeing Kingu's expression, Alaric couldn't help but laugh.
"Even a short life can shine with its brilliance, Kingu, child of Tiamat. You are lucky."
"And as it happens, so am I. I should have died, but thanks to the blessings of the King, I've made it this far."
"That's why I must cherish the time I have—to not only keep moving forward but to take every encounter seriously. Just as I said before."
"Oh, right, you wouldn't know. It's love."
"I have always believed that no one should end their life burdened by regrets and suffering."
"Especially beings like us, whose existence is fleeting."
"The world is approaching its end, and yet we waste what little time we have dwelling in regret and pain. Wouldn't that be a shame?"
"Mordred was like that. Gawain was like that. Lancelot was like that. Agravain was like that—"
"Even though you are not a Heroic Spirit, you are still a new life. And since you possess intelligence, then you should live as yourself."
"Do something meaningful. And that meaning shouldn't be something others give you—it should be something you define for yourself."
"I don't even have the free will to choose. My purpose was to free Mother—"
Kingu murmured.
"And now that Mother has been freed, I—"
Watching Kingu's body slowly wither away, Alaric touched his bracelet.
Kingu was dying because his magical core had vanished.
If he could restore that core, he would survive.
But the bracelet could only supply magic—it couldn't function as a core.
"You two seem to be having a great time."
At that moment, Gilgamesh suddenly inserted himself between them.
"Hey, King Gilgamesh."
Alaric greeted him with his signature gesture, exuding an effortless charm.
Gilgamesh glanced at Alaric before quickly shifting his gaze to Kingu.
This was the first time he had seen Kingu face to face.
Since Enkidu's death—
It had been a long time.
And upon seeing Gilgamesh, Kingu, who had just been conversing with Alaric, instantly fell silent.
A surge of emotion bubbled up—he didn't want this man to see him in such a pathetic state.
Right now, he was utterly wretched.
This was not how the Chains of Heaven should be.
Without much conversation, Gilgamesh took out the Uruk Grail, which he had shown to Alaric before, and casually tossed it to Kingu.
As the grail merged with Kingu's body, it replenished his missing magical core.
His deteriorating form stabilized instantly.
"Why?"
Even though the threat of death had passed, Kingu found no joy in it.
He only stared at Gilgamesh's cold expression.
"I am not Enkidu. I am not your Enkidu—"
The storm of emotions within him churned, twisting his expression in pain.
"So what?"
"Even if your heart is different, even if your soul is distinct, your body remains the only Chains of Heaven on this land."
At the mention of the Chains of Heaven, Gilgamesh showed an expression Alaric had never seen before.
A look of remembrance—of his only friend.
Staring at Kingu's bewildered face, Gilgamesh stated matter-of-factly:
"That guy always insisted he was just a weapon. If that's the case, then it's only natural that I care about you too."
"After all, he was the weapon I trusted most in the past, and you are his successor."
"Is it not perfectly reasonable for me to protect you?"
"Even if you merely inherited his body, you are still someone I care for."
"What… do you mean by that—"
Kingu's expression grew increasingly conflicted and pained.
The emotions surging within him had nowhere to go.
"Regardless of your mother or birth background, just as Alaric said—go and do what you want to do."
Gilgamesh looked at Kingu—no, at Enkidu's face—and said, "Just like how I once was, and how he was."
After handing the Holy Grail to Kingu, Gilgamesh no longer seemed interested in staying. He glanced at Alaric before decisively leaving.
Alaic, after observing the two of them for a moment, smiled and followed Gilgamesh, leaving the conflicted Kingu behind.
On the way down, Gilgamesh glanced at Alaric and asked, "Are you planning to say farewell to everyone?"
It was obvious that Gilgamesh had been listening to Alaric's conversation with Kingu, which gave him some insight into Alaric's thoughts at the moment.
"That's right. A separation without a proper farewell is quite lonely, isn't it?"
With his hands behind his back, Alaric smiled and said, "Or perhaps, King Gilgamesh, you prefer sudden departures?"
"If a parting is inevitable, then things should at least be made clear."
Gilgamesh spoke calmly, "You are different from Fujimaru Ritsuka and the others. This time, there is no singularity left to shelter you.
What do you plan to do?"
Over the past month, Gilgamesh had discussed Alaric's circumstances with Merlin multiple times. This had given him some understanding of how Alaric had arrived at the singularity.
Singularities were a product of human history's foundational disruptions, and for Alaric, such disruptions provided the best refuge, preventing the complete order of human history from rejecting him.
Even though he had anchored himself with the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad, whether Alaric could truly return to normal history remained uncertain.
Beyond this, the biggest issue was Alaric's stability.
Tiamat had created the Crimson Dragon using Alaric's draconic blood, revealing a glimpse of Alaric's potential future as a dragon. Though it was not a complete transformation, it still exposed to Gilgamesh and Chaldea the latent danger Alaric posed.
Had Alaric collapsed and fallen into draconic corruption upon first entering the singularity, then now—with Tiamat unsealed—Uruk, under Gilgamesh's rule, would be facing two Beasts:
The Primordial Goddess, Tiamat, and the Crimson Dragon are destined to bring humanity to its end and reach the limits of the stars.
The true catastrophe of Alaric's fall would far surpass the current Crimson Dragon.
Fortunately, Alaric had remained remarkably stable, always within Merlin's acceptable thresholds—until Tiamat's unsealing, when his abnormalities began to unnerve even Merlin.
"I don't know what will happen next, but this time, I can face it with the best mindset possible—"
Alaric placed a hand on his chest, his gaze unexpectedly soft as he chuckled lightly. "I am not walking forward alone. At the very least, I carry blessings with me."
After this singularity was resolved, Alaric had no certainty about his fate.
Would he continue wandering through the world, or would he remain entirely in this ancient Mesopotamia?
With every singularity created by Solomon now repaired by Chaldea, there was no longer a place for Alaric to stay.
But this time, no matter the outcome, Alaric felt he could accept it wholeheartedly.
"I will keep moving forward."
With unwavering confidence, Alaric clenched the power known as Independent Manifestation within his heart.
Seeing Alaric's resolute response, Gilgamesh asked no further questions. Instead, he waved his hand and said, "Take care, knight."
As Gilgamesh returned to Ziggurat, Alaric turned his gaze toward a girl standing not far away.
Her fitted magus attire accentuated her lively and youthful figure, her enticing curves resembling an unripe fruit awaiting harvest.
Her snow-white legs were pressed closely together, forming a striking contrast with her black hiking boots.
Under the moonlight, her short orange hair seemed to shimmer faintly.
Her bright eyes reflected the silhouette of a certain someone.
...
The night passed quickly, and as dawn arrived, all of Uruk's citizens mobilized.
Their foes were the Primordial Goddess—Tiamat—and the countless Lahmu swarming in the millions.
Despite the overwhelming disparity in power, there was no despair among the people of Uruk. Instead, their fighting spirit burned fiercely, a passion so intense that it seemed ready to set the entire city ablaze.
Atop the tower, Gilgamesh and Siduri gazed down upon the assembled citizens.
Every single one of the remaining 1,700 people stood ready for battle—none had chosen to flee.
Witnessing this, Gilgamesh, filled with immense pride, took a deep breath and proclaimed loudly:
"Hear me, all citizens of Uruk who remain!
Two months ago, when we began constructing the Demonic Front, I told you—no matter how hard we struggle, Uruk will be destroyed. I said you could run, lose yourselves in pleasure, or lament fate and surrender to the underworld.
But all of you chose to fight until the very end. Knowing the inevitable outcome, you still decided to resist it.
Without a doubt, Uruk is a blessed city—its history, its people, its way of life—everything that encompasses it, including myself!"
As the golden king's declaration resounded through the air, the eyes of all 1,700 warriors focused on him.
Gilgamesh swept his hand forward, his voice growing even stronger with emotion:
"I shall declare it once more—Uruk is doomed. That is an unchangeable fact!
But there is no need for sorrow. And why is that? Because as long as even one among us survives to witness the dawn of victory, our lives, and our resolve will be forever etched into their memory!
Even if we perish, even if we leave behind no descendants, humanity will still live on in the hearts of others!
That is the power of humankind—the bonds we forge! It is not bloodline, but the inheritance of wisdom! It is the chain of life!
The fall of Uruk does not mean our destruction!
We will shine in the victory of dawn, and this light shall connect to the new era!
Listen well, my elite warriors!
At this very moment, we shall defy the Primordial Goddess and open the path to humanity's new age!
This is the final battle of our farewell to the gods—
Offer your very lives to me!
Let us engrave the glory of Uruk into history for all future generations!!!!"
"Ooooohhhhhh!!!"
In response to the golden king's words, 1,700 voices roared in unison.
The sheer force of their will surged like a tide—an unbreakable determination shared by all of humanity.
It was the resolve to bid farewell to the gods, the dazzling brilliance that belonged solely to mankind.
Witnessing this scene, Alaric's eyes seemed to gleam, reflecting the fiery determination of the warriors before him.
Such an intense will—knowing death was inevitable, yet still choosing to fight and live with such conviction.
This was the humanity that Gilgamesh took pride in.
PS: Shinzou wo Sasageyo!