Published at 9th of September 2025 12:37 pm

Book 5: Chapter 24 Cruelty [Part 2]

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What did it all mean?

I turned toward the main gate of the palace, thoughts dark and churning, when a squad of men stepped into my path. Their stance was rigid, their hands too close to their weapons.

“This better not be you trying to impede me,” I warned, voice flat as a whetstone. "Ten men are not nearly enough.”

Their leader, Arnis, stepped forward. He was a Raqib—the equivalent rank to a Sergeant. I remembered him from the Contest of the Knives when we fought side by side and the gutters overflowed with blood. A dependable man, but one rather dispossessed of original thought and imagination.

"The Vizier requests your presence. We are to escort you," he said, his deep voice firm, unwavering.

I let the words settle before answering. "You will tell me where he waits. I will not allow you to escort me like some wayward child. Insist on this, and all of you die."

Arnis hesitated. "But we have our orders…" he began stubbornly.

He never finished. My hammer swept through the air, the spike smacking into his helmet, crumpling his skull like an overripe fruit. An annoying notification flashed in my mind, announcing the insultingly meager experience points I had earned.

"Do not draw your weapons, fools!" My voice cut through the night as hands twitched toward hilts. "I am the First Tamkar of Salahaem, and a mere Raqib dared to countermand my order."

A part of me longed for them to resist. To forget their fear. To be real men.

"First—First Tamkar Gilgamesh," one stammered. An older man, a fraction wiser than the rest. "The Vizier Baz waits for you in the Green Room of the Southern Wing."

"Excellent. See? Not so difficult." I stepped past them, then turned back to regard Arnis’s lifeless form. "Have this sack of meat fed to the pigs. He will not join the Goddess in her embrace. He has dishonored his family, his name. Fail to see it done, and I will butcher you and all of your kin myself. Understood?"

So terrified were they that they did not answer. But, they did not need to.

I flared my Improved Entropic Aura, drinking in the naked fear on their faces. They bowed, stiff and shallow, and I left them to carry out my orders as I went to find Idris.

***

I found him fuming, pacing like a caged beast in the Green Room, his silken robes swishing with each heavy step. I did not knock. I did not announce myself. I simply shoved open the heavy wooden doors, letting them almost explode inwards, and grinned as if I had walked into a feast.

"Arnis was a good man!" Idris, Vizier to Sultana Aelayah, snapped at me in greeting. So, word had flown ahead of me. Quicker, at least, than my sedate pace this damned chamber.

"He's a dead man because I judged him not to be a 'good' man," I said with a shrug, rolling my shoulders as if shaking off a bit of dust. "The Goddess is with me in my judgment."

Idris flushed, his jaw trembling with barely contained rage. He opened his mouth, then closed it, steadying himself before finally whispering, "Why?"

"For countermanding a direct order."

"You have no authority."

"Oh, Idris," I sighed, tilting my head. "I am the only thing propping up this little game of yours, the strong steel holding your delicate order together. So, yes, old man, I have the authority. I have all of it."

He sucked in a breath. "I could have you ki—"

The slap was light. Just a brush of my fingers against his cheek. But the old man reeled as if struck with a heavy mailed fist, spinning and crumpling onto the green marble floor. A pathetic sight, the golden headdress of his office now askew, his bejeweled rings clattering on the stone floor.

"Do not finish that sentence. Do not even finish that thought," I said, stepping over him, planting an armored boot against his chest. He wheezed, a thin whistle of breath escaping his lips. "You must know from Farzan what I do to those who threaten me. Send another squad against me, and I will burn this palace to the ground."

His gaze, hot with hatred, locked onto mine. Not broken yet. Stubborn old fool.

"Go on," I murmured. "Call for help. Cry out. Shout for the guards. But know that in doing so, you will be killing them."

"You... are... a monster," Idris rasped, spit and blood pooling at the corners of his lips. "I see now what Aelayah—"

I pressed down harder. He choked, the words dying in his throat.

"A monster, am I?" I mused, shaking my head. "And what does that make you? A glorified administrator, grasping at the power that does not belong to you with your dirty, wrinkled hands? I became what this world demanded of me, Vizier. That is all."

I sighed, watching the realization dawn in his watering eyes. "You overplayed your hand. That is all. Unfortunately for you, I must break you now."

A sharp crack echoed through the chamber as a rib gave way beneath my boot. Idris screamed, blood flecking his lips. I had learned long ago how to hurt a man without killing him. A delicate balance, but one I had mastered.

I used the spell Identify to make it even easier.

****

You have gained 1 Charisma

This silly game had added to my attributes for the most arbitrary of reasons. I could not make rhyme or reason of it.

From my session with Idris, I gleaned something of interest: ships had been sighted on the horizon, great vessels cutting across the sea like leviathans. And, if the Water Mages of the Al-Lazar were to be believed, the tides would turn come morning, drawing back the sea for three miles. A momentary boon or a harbinger of disaster? Soon, time would tell.

The jade marble of the Green Room was slick with Idris’ blood, staining the once pristine floor in rich crimson. More blood than any man should have had in him. My Heal spell restored his blood, ensuring that he bled anew with each fresh wound, only to be restored for another round. He lived because Gilgamesh willed it.

Halfway through my work, I leaned into the hallway, snaring the wrist of a servant girl. Wide-eyed, she paled at the sight of me.

"Fetch Elenora. Now."

Wide-eyed, she fled to see my will done.

When Elenora arrived, she did so with the presence of a queen, though she was nothing of the sort. A common whore, nothing more. She carried herself now with the bearing of a noblewoman, the sway of her hips deliberate, her lips curving in something that was neither a smile nor a smirk. A flicker of something dark passed over her face as she took in the scene before her. A tremor ran through her, the kind I had seen in the throes of carnal passion. She licked her ruby-red lips.

She would do for what I had planned.

"Gilgamesh," she purred, stepping forward. "A disagreement with the Vizier? Did Aelayah put you up to this?"

Good girl. Sowing the seeds of discord already.

"The man threatened to kill me," I said, smoothly. "He required discipline."

Elenora knelt by a puddle of blood, gazing into it as if it were a mirror, before dragging her gaze back to me. "What would you have of me?"

I crouched, slapping Idris lightly. His swollen eyelids fluttered open, his agony-filled stare meeting mine.

"If you wish to live," I murmured, "you will do as Elenora commands. She is now my representative here in the Mahdi Al-Maraquis. You will obey her in all things. Do you understand?"

A slow, pitiful nod. Inside, I laughed. How far he had fallen.

Elenora covered her mouth, though her laughter was unrestrained. "Oh, Gil... you do know how to spoil a girl."

For a moment, I could have sworn I saw fangs. My stressed mind playing games with me, I was sure. Still, I made a note of it.

I straightened. "You will speak nothing of what transpired here," I declared. "If you do, the Sultana Aelayah—peace be upon her—will have your head."

Elenora’s grin widened. "Oh, Gil, you are delicious."

"Have Idris and Farzan make Al-Lazar ready for war," I commanded. "My instincts tell me we are not dealing with merchant vessels. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst."

Elenora exhaled, eyes glittering. "It will be done."

And then she was upon me, arms coiling around my neck, pressing herself against my armor, her lips finding mine in a kiss that tasted of copper and something deeper.

Something more dangerous.

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