CHAPTER 282: THE ROAR OF GILGAMESS [PART 2]

The marble doors of the throne room groaned open.

The nobles, mid-laughter over some inflated canal project, barely turned to acknowledge the timid Prime Minister entering with the young King in tow.

But something was different.

Gilgamess’ gait was steady, his shoulders drawn back as his staff tapped sharply against the polished floor with every step.

King Aurelian III followed beside him, still small and pale, but glancing up every so often as if unsure whether the man at his side was truly the same one from yesterday.

Gilgamess stopped just shy of the dais. His hand slipped into his robes, and with a smooth motion, he uncorked a narrow crystal vial filled with a potion that had a golden color.

Without a word, the Prime Minister raised the vial to his lips and drank.

It was fire and sunlight all at once, searing down his throat and flooding his veins.

His heart slammed against his ribs, each beat like the toll of a war drum. The timid whispers in his mind, the ones that told him to step back, to avoid conflict, and endure, were drowned beneath a tidal wave of something vast, hot, and unshakable.

Chuck’s voice echoed in his skull, but this time it wasn’t a growl. It was a roar!

"Now... show them who you are, Lord Gilgamess!"

Gilgamess exhaled slowly.

His back straightened, his gaze locked forward. The world seemed sharper and the air cleaner.

He then bowed to King Aurelian, as the young king sat on the throne before facing the nobles for today’s court session.

"Shall we proceed with today’s agenda?" Sir Alfred smirked. "I believe we were discussing the Southern Canal expansion—"

Lord Gilgamess’s voice cut through the room like a drawn blade.

"Silence, Mongrel."

The nobles froze. The words hadn’t been shouted, yet they carried the weight of a thunderclap.

"E–Excuse me, Prime Minister?" Sir Alfred stammered.

Lord Gilgamess tapped his staff once on the floor, and a ripple of flames spread inside the room, making the nobles cry out in shock and surprise.

"The one who will start this court session is the King, not you, Mongrel," Lord Gilgamess stated. "Who gave you the right to speak before our King, hmm? Is he the one wearing the crown, or are you wearing the crown?

"Guards! Lock this bastard in prison to let him contemplate his wrongs! Make sure not to give him food and water for a day. If I discover that you ignored my orders, I’ll have all of you hanged!"

The Prime Minister’s voice was like a thunderclap that made the hesitating soldiers immediately take action to grab Sir Alfred, who seemed to have been put into paralysis by the Prime Minister’s shout.

The nobles looked at this scene in disbelief and anxiety, uncertainty creeping onto their faces.

Lord Gilgamess once again tapped his staff on the marble floor, getting everyone’s attention.

"Order in the throne room, you are in the presence of our King," Lord Gilgamess said coldly. "Have you forgotten who gave you the ranks that allowed you all to live in luxury? Did you dogs forget who your true Master is?"

"L-Lord Gilgamess, we..." a Noble with a curly mustache tried to voice his thoughts, but before he could finish whatever he was going to say, the Prime Minister pointed his staff in his direction and unleashed a Heat Flare, which burned the noble’s mustache.

A scream of horror reverberated inside the throne room as the noble fell on his butt, smoke rising from his now-naked philtrum.

His mustache had been burned completely, and only traces of ash remained on the place where it once was.

"Did I ask you to speak?" Lord Gilgamess asked, his voice dripping of venom. "Guards! Take this Peasant to the prison, and lock him up along with that bastard, Alfred!"

The guards hurriedly picked up the fallen noble and dragged him out of the court room.

The moment the marble doors had closed, a pin-drop silence descended inside the room.

All the nobles had straightened themselves like students who saw their strict professor enter their classroom.

None of them dared to say anything and simply stared at the Prime Minister, who seemed to have grown two-meters taller in their minds.

"Your Majesty, please start today’s court session," Lord Gilgamess pressed his hands together and bowed to his King. "I believe it is about a canal project, and our loyal nobles plan to use up their own money to fund this project. Isn’t that right, you Mongrels?"

The Prime Minister’s sweeping gaze made the nobles shudder, and a moment later, all of them started to speak out loud, as if afraid that if they didn’t answer now, they would be the ones who would be sent to prison next.

"Yes, Your Majesty, allow me, Smith, to provide workers for this project!"

"I will also provide the salary of the workers as well as feed them during work hours."

"Your Majesty, I will give the Kingdom a 30% discount on the materials that will be needed for building the Canal!"

"Did you say... only 30%?" Lord Gilamess asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I-I meant 50%!"

"Only 50%?" Lord Gilgamess scoffed. "Are you courting death?"

"70%."

"Hmmm?"

"90%!"

"Your Majesty, I think Alfred and that Mustache Dog need someone to play with them in the dungeons," Lord Gilgamess said. "Guar--"

"Free!" the noble shouted. "All the materials will be free of charge! Your Majesty, please allow me to handle this. I swear upon the Eggheart Family that I will make this project successful."

King Aurelian took a deep breath before nodding. "Good. I look forward to hearing good news after this project ends."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" the noble bowed as if he had just received a noble pardon.

"Your Majesty, I think we should strip the titles of the two dogs that I sent to prison," Lord Gilgamess proposed. "The kingdom has suffered long enough. I think a purge is in order."

The nobles inside the throne room shuddered upon hearing the Prime Minister’s words.

They had almost forgotten that Lord Gilgamess was actually the strongest Sorcerer in their kingdom due to his timid personality.

But now that the Rank 7 Sorcerer was bearing his fangs, they knew that if they annoyed him, it would not only be their hair or mustache that would be burned.

They might not even be able to leave the throne room alive, leaving only ashes as evidence of their existence.

Chuck, who was watching this from Lord Giglamess’ Sea of Consciousness, gave all the nobles the middle finger while calling all of them Peasants in his heart.