Playing As The Hero King At The End

The woman who appeared before Gilgamesh was indeed the goddess Ishtar, the deity of nature, fertility, love, and war.

Having observed the mortal world from the heavens, she had finally been captivated by the King of Uruk, Gilgamesh.

Now, standing before him, she found herself even more enamored.

His golden hair and crimson eyes were striking, rivaling even the most handsome of male gods.

But it was his aura of dominance and arrogance that truly set him apart. It was the most intense she had ever seen in a human, so much so that even a god's presence might pale in comparison.

And now, as she stood before him, his gaze remained calm and unflinching. He sat casually on his throne, utterly unfazed.

Ishtar swayed her alluring figure, exuding the grace and authority befitting a goddess. Her sensual lips parted as she spoke.

"I am Ishtar, the goddess of nature and fertility~"

"And?"

The King of Uruk, still resting his chin on his hand, responded with a tone of disinterest.

He showed no surprise, no fear, no excitement at her divine presence. He treated her as if she were just another mortal.

This reaction caught Ishtar off guard. Did he not believe her?

No matter. She would make him believe.

In the next moment, her body began to glow, and crops—barley, wheat, lentils—sprouted from the stone floor around her.

This was no ordinary feat. It was a divine miracle, proof of her godhood.

"Now do you believe I am Ishtar, the goddess of nature and fertility~?"

"So? Goddess Ishtar, what brings you here?"

His tone remained unchanged, as if he were speaking to an ordinary person.

This indifference irked Ishtar. She was a goddess, and he, though a king, was still just a human. How dare he treat her so casually?

Yet, his arrogance only made him more appealing to her.

"It's simple. I've taken a liking to you, King of Uruk. Become my consort, and you shall transcend the limitations of mortality, gaining the longevity of a demigod."

A goddess proposing to a human—such an offer was impossible to refuse. After all, she was a genuine deity, and becoming her consort would grant him immortality, freeing him from the fear of death.

For a moment, it seemed the king was tempted. He straightened up, his gaze turning curious.

Curious?

"I've heard you've had… relations with other gods. And that you've made similar offers to other humans?"

"You needn't worry about that, King of Uruk. My heart belongs to you now."

Ah, so he was concerned about her past. Men were all the same. A few sweet words would suffice.

Ishtar swayed closer, her body radiating an intoxicating fragrance.

"Oh? So you've been with so many men? How unfortunate. I don't ride public transport~"

Ishtar's face twisted in rage. Though she didn't understand the term "public transport," the insult was clear.

The king's disdainful gaze only added to her fury. He even pushed her away, shaking his hand as if he had touched something filthy.

Ishtar's face contorted, veins bulging on her forehead.

"Pfft—!"

Someone stifled a laugh, quickly covering their mouth.

It was Grei, the youngest of the Valkyrie sisters.

The King of Uruk's words were too sharp. Comparing Ishtar to public transport? Hilarious!

Wait, wasn't that a modern joke? How did it exist in ancient Sumer?

Oh no!

The king's sharp gaze suddenly turned toward her.

Could he sense them again?

Terrified, Grei hid behind her sister Brynhildr.

They were still in a temporal displacement, invisible even to most gods.

"What does 'public transport' mean, Gilgamesh—no, human Gilgamesh!"

Ishtar's voice was laced with venom as she spat out his name, her face twisted in rage.

"You don't understand? Allow me to enlighten you. Public transport is a vehicle for the masses. Anyone can board it for a small fee. I, however, prefer my custom-made royal chariot—clean and comfortable. If you'd like to experience public transport, I can arrange a driver to take you on a tour of Uruk's beauty."

Grei bit her lip, worried for the king.

Ishtar's beautiful face was now a mask of fury, her hands clawing at the air as if ready to tear him apart.

"Hahaha, very well, Gilgamesh!!!"

Her scream was so piercing that Grei shuddered.

"This is bad, Sister Brynhildr. Ishtar's going to kill him!"

"No, she won't kill him directly."

Gods rarely killed humans with their own hands. It would make them seem petty and invite ridicule from other deities.

Instead, they preferred to punish humans in more creative ways, savoring their suffering from on high.

Brynhildr narrowed her eyes, noticing a dangerous glint in Gilgamesh's gaze.

Was he… eager to kill a god?

Where did his confidence come from?

"You'll regret this, Gilgamesh!"

With that final threat, Ishtar vanished.

As her figure disappeared, the king smirked. His progress had jumped to 95%.

If he had killed her, would it have reached 99%?

Now, he could only wait for the Bull of Heaven to descend.

***

The outskirts of Uruk, a thriving agricultural zone.

The land was fertile, irrigated by an intricate network of waterways, ensuring bountiful harvests that sustained the entire city. Under the reign of the great King of Uruk, famine was a foreign concept, a relic of the past.

But today, something was amiss.

Farmers tending to their crops paused, wiping sweat from their brows as they glanced at the sky. The sun blazed hotter than usual, but the heat wasn't radiating from above—it was rising from the ground, a scorching wave rolling in from the south.

"Why is it so hot today?" one farmer muttered, squinting toward the horizon.

The air shimmered, distorting like a mirage. The crops in the distance seemed to darken, withering unnaturally. Smoke began to rise, followed by flames that devoured the fields.

"What's happening?!"

A searing wave of heat slammed into them, stealing their breath and nearly knocking them unconscious. The once-lush fields turned to ash in moments.

And then, they saw it.

A massive, monstrous bull, unlike anything they had ever witnessed, charged across the land. Its hooves shook the earth, and with every step, the temperature soared. The beast radiated an oppressive, fiery aura, scorching everything in its path.

Soldiers rushed to intercept it, but they were no match. Before they could even draw their weapons, they collapsed, drenched in sweat, overcome by the unbearable heat.

Atop the ziggurat of Uruk's grand temple, a figure emerged, his crimson eyes narrowing as he surveyed the distant horizon. Thick plumes of smoke rose from the agricultural zone, signaling chaos.

"What's going on? Are we under attack?"

"That's the farming district—why is it on fire?"

"Where are the guards? What are they doing?"

The elders clamored in confusion, but a single raised hand silenced them. The figure descended the temple steps, his presence commanding absolute authority. He boarded a waiting chariot and sped toward the southern gate, where the chaos was unfolding.

Before he even reached the gates, a soldier rushed to report.

"My king! It's… it's the Celestial Bull, Gugalanna! The divine beast of Anu, the sky god! It's been unleashed upon us!"

The soldier's voice trembled with fear. "Is this the wrath of Ishtar? Has she called upon Anu to punish us? This beast brings drought and destruction!"

The king ascended the city walls, his gaze locking onto the rampaging beast. The Celestial Bull tore through the fields, leaving desolation in its wake. The sight was enough to make even the bravest soldiers quake in terror.

"It's the judgment of Ishtar! We must kneel and beg for her mercy—"

Before the words could leave the man's mouth, a flash of steel severed his head from his body. The king's crimson eyes glowed like twin stars, his voice cold and commanding.

"Anyone who kneels will share his fate."

The elders and nobles froze, their knees locking in place under the weight of his gaze.

"Answer me," the king demanded, his voice echoing across the walls. "Who has made Uruk prosperous? Who has made Uruk strong?"

The soldiers hesitated, then one by one, they answered.

"You have, my king."

"It is Uruk's king!"

"It is Gilgamesh!"

The chant grew louder, a tidal wave of voices rising in unison. "Gilgamesh! Gilgamesh! Gilgamesh!"

The king spread his arms, his presence towering over them all. "Yes, it is I. Not by the will of the gods, not by their so-called blessings, but by the strength of humanity. And now, this beast—this tool of the gods—seeks to destroy what we have built with our own hands."

The soldiers fell silent, their fists clenching in anger.

"Do you know why the gods have sent this abomination? Because Ishtar—that wretched goddess—demanded that I become her slave. And I refused."

The crowd stirred, their fear giving way to fury.

"Understand this," the king continued, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "If the gods were truly benevolent, would they demand our sacrifices? Would they strip us of our dignity, our freedom, our very humanity? Tell me, is this the behavior of gods—or of tyrants?"

"No!" the soldiers roared.

"No!" the citizens echoed.

"No!" even the elders and nobles joined in, their voices rising in defiance.

"Then what are they?" the king demanded, his eyes blazing.

"Demons!" the crowd thundered.

"Monsters!"

The collective rage of Uruk shook the heavens, a force so potent that even the Celestial Bull seemed to falter, its fiery aura dimming for a moment.

Among the crowd, a young woman named Gray covered her mouth, her eyes wide with awe. "This… this is the presence of a true king," she whispered.

Beside her, Brynhildr watched intently, her expression unreadable. "How does Gilgamesh plan to defeat the Celestial Bull?" Gray asked.

"I don't know," Brynhildr replied. "But we're about to find out."

Gilgamesh turned to his elite guards, issuing swift orders. The guards rushed back to the temple, their movements precise and purposeful. They had been preparing for this moment, though Brynhildr and Gray had only glimpsed fragments of the plan.

The king's next move was unexpected. He ordered the evacuation of the temple's vicinity, clearing out nearly half the city. The massive doors of the temple's underground chamber—a fortified vault often used for storage or shelter—swung open.

"Is he planning to trap the beast inside?" Gray wondered aloud.

"Even those walls won't hold it for long," Brynhildr mused. "Unless…"

Her eyes widened as the pieces fell into place.

"No… he couldn't possibly…"

The king's plan was audacious, bordering on madness. But if anyone could pull it off, it was Gilgamesh.

The Celestial Bull roared, its fiery breath scorching the earth. But Gilgamesh stood firm, his golden armor gleaming in the sunlight. Behind him, the temple loomed like a mountain, its secrets waiting to be unleashed.

"Let the gods tremble," the king declared, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand storms. "For today, humanity strikes back."

The stage was set. The battle for Uruk's survival—and humanity's defiance—had begun.

The Celestial Bull, having ravaged the agricultural fields, now turned its fiery gaze toward the city of Uruk. Its massive form thundered across the land, each step shaking the earth like a titan's march. The beast's hide, thick and nearly impervious, glowed with an otherworldly heat, its very presence scorching the air.

Gilgamesh, the King of Uruk, stood ready. His fists, capable of shattering stone walls, had only managed to bruise the beast earlier. Even with weapons, the damage was minimal—the Celestial Bull's wounds healed almost instantly. The weapons of this era, crude and fragile, shattered under the force of his strikes.

But Gilgamesh was not deterred. If his strength could inflict even minor wounds on the beast, then his carefully laid plan might just be enough to kill it.

"Come on, you dumb ox!"

Gilgamesh sat on his throne atop the temple ziggurat, taunting the enraged Celestial Bull. The beast snorted, its nostrils billowing steam, and its hooves scraped against the stone floor as it prepared to charge.

With a deafening roar, the Celestial Bull surged forward, its massive body tearing through the air like a meteor. Each step cracked the stone beneath its hooves, sending shockwaves through the temple.

Just as the beast closed half the distance, Gilgamesh smirked and pressed a hidden mechanism on the armrest of his throne.

The floor beneath the Celestial Bull gave way, collapsing into a deep pit that led to the temple's inner chamber. The beast tumbled down, its furious bellow echoing through the structure.

Then, it happened.

A blinding explosion erupted from the depths of the temple, a fiery inferno that lit up the night sky. The shockwave rattled the entire city, and a mushroom cloud of dust and debris rose into the air.

The people of Uruk stared in awe and terror as their king's palace was engulfed in flames. The explosion was unlike anything they had ever seen—a force of destruction that rivaled the wrath of the gods themselves.

"W-What just happened?!"

Gray, the young Valkyrie, clutched her sister Brynhildr's arm, her voice trembling. The two had been moved to the city walls for safety, but the sheer magnitude of the explosion left them stunned.

"Dust explosion," Brynhildr explained, her tone calm but impressed. "He used the powdered wheat stored in the temple's lower chambers. When mixed with air and ignited, it creates a massive explosion."

Gray blinked, trying to process the information. "But… how did he know it would work?"

Brynhildr's gaze shifted to the smoldering ruins of the temple. "He's not just a king. He's a strategist. He planned this down to the last detail."

The temple's ventilation system had been designed to allow air to flow freely, creating the perfect conditions for the dust to disperse. Once the Celestial Bull was lured into the trap, the vents were sealed, and the beast's own fiery aura ignited the volatile mixture.

The result was catastrophic.

As the dust settled, a figure emerged from the wreckage. It was Gilgamesh, his golden armor scorched and battered, but his crimson eyes burning with unyielding determination.

Behind him, the rubble shifted. The Celestial Bull, now a mangled and bloodied mess, struggled to rise. Its body was riddled with shrapnel, and one of its horns had been shattered. But even in its dying moments, the beast lunged at the king, its remaining horn aimed at his heart.

Gilgamesh didn't flinch. He didn't even turn around.

The Celestial Bull's charge slowed, its strength fading with each step. By the time it reached the king, it collapsed, its massive body hitting the ground with a final, shuddering breath.

The people of Uruk erupted into cheers, their voices shaking the heavens. Their king had done the impossible—he had slain a divine beast.

"Prepare a cauldron," Gilgamesh commanded, his voice carrying across the city. "We feast tonight!"

For ten days and ten nights, the Celestial Bull was cooked and served to the people of Uruk. Its flesh, once a symbol of divine wrath, became a testament to humanity's defiance.

But the gods were not pleased.

On the tenth night, the sky darkened. The stars vanished, swallowed by rolling black clouds. A massive tornado descended from the heavens, and thunder roared like the voice of an angry god.

"Anu, the Sky God of the Babylonian pantheon," Brynhildr whispered, her eyes fixed on the storm.

Gray trembled, clutching her sister's arm. "A-Are we going to hide? A chief god like Anu… he might notice us!"

Brynhildr shook her head. "No. We stay and watch."

Her gaze shifted to Gilgamesh, who sat calmly on his throne, his crimson eyes gleaming with a dangerous light.

The king was smiling.

It was a smile that sent a chill down Brynhildr's spine.

Gilgamesh's eyes, like twin red stars, burned with an unmistakable intent.

He was going to kill a god.

The stage was set. The battle between humanity and divinity was about to reach its climax.