Chapter 549: The King of Heroes

The words didn't come from the silver-haired woman on the throne. They echoed directly in Aurelia's mind, a telepathic whisper that was both a caress and a threat.

'Blood of my blood?'

The phrase sent a jolt of pure, undiluted terror through Aurelia's entire being. But before she could dwell on it, the silver-haired woman's gaze shifted, moving past her, landing on Miriel.

At that moment, Lady Seraphim stepped in and took something out of her storage ring.

A strand of white hair.

"!!!" The Blood Queen's crimson eyes instantly snapped to the strand of hair in Seraphim's hand.

"Mother, I'm back. Open the door, please," Seraphim said, her tone gentle and respectful, as if she were speaking with a real mother.

'Wait a minute, mother?' Aurelia's mind went blank. 'The Blood Queen is Lady Seraphim's mother? Or is this some kind of code?'

The Blood Queen's gaze was fixed on the strand of hair, her crimson eyes narrowed, a flicker of something... ancient, complex, unreadable, in their depths. For a long, tense moment, nothing happened.

Then, a shimmer.

A distortion in the space in front of them, a ripple in the fabric of reality. A doorway, made of swirling crimson energy, slowly materialized, its edges shimmering, its depths a chaotic vortex of power.

"Welcome back, sweetheart. I missed you," The Blood Queen said, her voice a hoarse, broken whisper, yet it held an undeniable warmth, a motherly affection that was completely at odds with her terrifying ethereal appearance.

"Come, we have much to discuss."

Seraphim's face, usually a mask of cold discipline, softened for a fleeting second. A genuine, almost invisible smile touched her lips before it vanished. "The mortal world awaits."

"Move." She turned to the frozen angelic gods, her expression once again a mask of absolute authority.

Like startled sheep, they scrambled, their fear of the silver-haired woman on the throne momentarily overridden by their fear of the one leading them. They hurried, approaching the crimson doorway.

However…

Step!

A figure stepped out of the doorway, stopping them in their tracks.

"Tsk... this is going to be tricky," Seraphim sighed, her golden eyes narrowing with frustration. She raised a hand, signaling for the others to step back a little.

"Mongrels," the figure said, his voice a high, disdainful growl, "how dare you sully this sacred place with your filthy presence."

The figure was a man with short golden hair and the same crimson eyes as the Blood Queen. He was clad in ornate golden armor covered in intricate patterns, making him look more like a divine emperor than a normal warrior.

Distinctive golden royal earrings dangled from his ears.

He stood before them, crossing his arms, radiating an aura of pure, unadulterated arrogance and power. His presence was a physical force, a pressure that made the air crackle, that made the very blood in their veins feel like it was boiling.

"King of Heroes Gilgamesh," Seraphim said, her tone respectful, but with a hint of steel underneath. "We are on a mission for Lady Uriel."

Gilgamesh sneered, a look of utter contempt on his handsome face.

"Uriel's mongrels, crawling through my queen's domain like the worms you are," he said, his crimson eyes sweeping over them, dismissing them as insignificant. "Tell this king, why should he allow you to pass? Don't you think just because you defeated the Blood Queen, you could just walk in and out as you please?"

"We are not here to fight, King of Heroes," Seraphim replied, her voice calm and steady. "We are here to... escort one of our own to Earth, by your queen's permission."

"Permission?" Gilgamesh laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "The queen does not give permission to mongrels. She tolerates your existence because it amuses her. But your presence... stinks. It pollutes this sacred ground with your... divine filth."

Miriel, her pride stung, her fear momentarily forgotten, stepped forward, her grey eyes flashing with anger.

"How dare you speak to us like that, you..."

Before she could finish, she was on her knees, gasping for air, a golden chain wrapped around her neck, materializing from thin air. It wasn't a physical chain. It was a manifestation of power, a leash of pure, crushing force.

"Mongrel, know your place," Gilgamesh said, his voice dangerously soft. "You speak only when this king allows you to. Your life is in my hands. A single thought, and I will pop your head like a ripe grape."

The other angelic gods flinched, their fear returning with a vengeance. They were gods, beings of immense power, but in front of this... golden king, they were nothing. They were ants at the mercy of a whimsical, cruel child.

Aurelia watched, her heart pounding, her mind racing. She could hardly believe that the golden man standing before them was the Gilgamesh from legends, the King of Heroes, the First Ascended.

'So the legends are true... he is real... and he is the Blood Queen's... king? Or maybe her son?' she couldn't help but think. 'And he is... terrifying.'

"Enough, King Gilgamesh," Seraphim said, her voice firm. "We are not your enemies. We are here on business."

"Business?" Gilgamesh scoffed, the golden chain around Miriel's neck tightening, making her gag. "Your business is with Uriel. Our business is to protect our queen's domain from... vermin. And you, with your stinking divinity, are the worst kind of vermin."

He looked at Miriel, a cruel, sadistic smile on his face.

"Perhaps this king should make an example of you. A warning to others who might dare to trespass."

"King Gilgamesh!" a new voice spoke. One of the male angelic gods suddenly charged at the golden king, a golden spear appearing in his hands, its tip glowing with a fierce, divine light. "You will not insult my comrades!"

He was fast, his movements a blur of golden light, the spear aimed at Gilgamesh's heart.

However...

"Damn it, you fool, I said no divinity in this place!" Seraphim cursed, but she was too late.

Gilgamesh didn't even flinch. He just looked at the charging god, a look of bored amusement on his face.

Rumble!

The entire realm, the Red Sea of Sorrows, the fortress of blood, the very sky of screaming souls, seemed to... react.

The ground shook, not with an earthquake, but with a pulse of pure, unadulterated rage.

A pike shot up from the crimson sea, moving with a speed that defied comprehension.

It was a pike made of blood and bone, its tip sharpened to a monomolecular edge.

It impaled the charging god through the chest, lifting him into the air, his divine light extinguished in an instant.

"AHHH!"

He struggled, his hands trying to pull the pike from his chest, but it was useless. The pike was not just a physical object. It was a part of this realm, a manifestation of its will. And its will was... to kill.

"Pathetic," Gilgamesh said, looking at the impaled god, a look of disgust on his face. "A mongrel who doesn't know the rules of the house he's visiting. A fitting end."

The impaled god was dragged to the side, where a second pike shot up and impaled him from the butt to the mouth. The pikes didn't kill him right away, but they held him, a new addition to the silent, screaming audience of gods who had failed.

"This is what I meant," Seraphim said, her voice cold, her gaze fixed on the horrified angelic gods. "This is not a game. This is not a place for your pride or your arrogance. This is her domain. And her rules are absolute."

She then looked at Gilgamesh, her expression unreadable.

"He made a mistake, and he paid the price. Now let us pass."

Gilgamesh didn't answer. His gaze shifted to the throne, to the silver-haired woman, as if waiting for her permission.

The Blood Queen's crimson eyes were fixed on the impaled god, a flicker of something... regret? sadness? in their depths. She looked at the god's struggling form, her face a mask of ancient sorrow.

Then, her head dropped like a puppet whose strings were cut.

"Sigh..." Gilgamesh sighed, a long, exaggerated sound of disappointment. "You see what you have done, mongrel? You upset my queen. For that, this king should flay you alive and feed your entrails to the blood worms."

He released the golden chain from Miriel's neck, who collapsed on the ground, gasping for air, her face pale, her arrogance replaced by a primal, soul-shattering fear.

"But," he continued, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "My queen is merciful. So, this king will be merciful as well and let you pass. But mark my words, mongrels. If you ever... ever... disrespect this realm again, this king will personally drag your souls from your bodies and feed them to the screaming sky. Understood?"

"Y-yes... my king," Miriel stammered, her voice a trembling whisper, her head bowed, her spirit broken.

Gilgamesh looked at the others, who all nodded, their faces pale, their bodies trembling.

"Good," he said, stepping aside, gesturing towards the crimson doorway. "Go. Your presence sickens me."

Seraphim didn't hesitate. She grabbed Miriel by the arm, pulling her to her feet, and pushed her towards the doorway. The others followed, their movements slow, hesitant, their eyes fixed on the terrifying figure of the golden king, their minds replaying the brutal death of their comrade.

Aurelia was the last to pass. As she walked past Gilgamesh, she felt his crimson eyes on her, a gaze that was both dismissive and unnervingly perceptive. She felt a chill run down her spine, a sense of being... analyzed, judged, and found wanting. She looked up, her gaze meeting his for a fleeting second. In that instant, she saw something in his eyes, a flicker of something... not just arrogance or contempt, but a... hint of curiosity? recognition? She couldn't tell.

She quickly looked away and hurried through the doorway, her heart pounding, her mind in chaos of conflicting emotions.

As soon as they all passed through the doorway, it closed behind them, the crimson vortex vanishing, leaving them in a... different place.

...

"Well played, Uriel," Gilgamesh said, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face as he looked at the spot where the doorway used to be. "Using my queen's blood to create a god."

His crimson eyes then shifted to the throne, to the silver-haired woman, who was still slumped, her head bowed.

"Don't worry, my queen," he said, his tone softening. "This king will find a way to bring you back."

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