Chapter 471: The First Heartbreak 4
The moment of recognition died like starlight swallowed by storm clouds, and with its passing, Enkidu’s features twisted into something that barely resembled the friend Gilgamesh had loved beyond life itself. Marduk’s corruption flowed through him like molten gold, and when he moved, it was with the savage unpredictability of the wilderness unleashed—no longer the noble wild man who had learned civilisation through friendship, but something feral and divine and utterly merciless.
"Then die, fool king," Enkidu snarled, launching himself forward with the explosive force of an avalanche. His fists, now wreathed in divine power that crackled like lightning, moved in patterns that had no regard for honor or restraint—this was the fighting style of apex predators, of creatures that killed not for sport but for survival, brutal and efficient and absolutely without mercy.
The first blow caught Gilgamesh across the jaw with the force of a meteor strike. The king of Uruk staggered, blood streaming from his mouth in a crimson arc that painted the volcanic glass beneath their feet. The taste of copper and divine fury filled his mouth, but even as his vision blurred, he brought his golden axe up in a desperate parry.
The second blow hammered into his ribs before he could fully recover. Enkidu’s knuckles, enhanced by Marduk’s power, struck like the horns of the Bull of Heaven—but where that legendary beast had been clumsy in its divine rage, Enkidu moved with the fluid precision of a wolf pack leader, each strike calculated to cause maximum damage while setting up the next attack.
Gilgamesh felt ribs crack under the impact, the sound like shattering pottery in the silence between his heartbeats. Pain exploded through his chest as he stumbled backwards, his free hand instinctively moving to his side where fire bloomed beneath his skin. Blood seeped between his fingers, warm and red and achingly mortal against the cosmic forces swirling around them.
"You always were too slow," Enkidu taunted, his voice distorted by divine corruption until it was barely recognisable. "Too civilised. Too soft from sitting on your golden throne while real warriors fought and died." He pressed his advantage, his movements flowing from high to low, left to right, never attacking from the same angle twice.
A brutal uppercut caught Gilgamesh beneath the chin, snapping his head back with vertebrae-threatening force. Stars exploded across his vision as he tasted fresh blood, his tongue finding the ragged edge where his teeth had cut into his cheek. The blow lifted him off his feet for a heartbeat that lasted eternity, and when he crashed back down, volcanic glass shattered beneath his weight.
"Fight back!" Enkidu roared, grabbing Gilgamesh by the throat and lifting him until his feet dangled above the ground. Divine fingers pressed against windpipe with the pressure of stone, cutting off air with casual brutality. "Show me the king who slew Humbaba! Where is the hero who bound the Bull of Heaven? Or are you nothing but a weeping child playing with his father’s weapons?"