Gilgamesh was in an excellent mood.
What pleased him most was that he finally held the power to steer his own fate—and that his actions no longer had to be shackled by quite so many constraints.
That sense of freedom showed itself most clearly in…
“Good. You handled this quickly enough.”
Gilgamesh looked over the clay tablets presented to him after a mere two days.
Naturally, these were not the detailed plans for magical energy engines; those would demand far more time and labor. These documents concerned agriculture.
In just two days, Uruk’s agricultural officials had already organized people to take precise measurements of every stretch of farmland under Uruk’s control. On top of that, they had drafted a corresponding implementation plan based on the three-field crop rotation system and the agricultural knowledge he had handed down.
This was where the advantages of a small state with a sparse population truly showed.
In this era, no city required vast swaths of land—not only because of the gods, but because the population simply could not consume that much.
Just look at this. He had only handed over those agricultural methods the day before yesterday, and by today the work was already more or less done.
It reflected not only the small population, but also the efficiency of the administrative system. Just as Gilgamesh had realized the moment he transmigrated here, this world simply had no need for a bloated bureaucracy. A kingship backed by divine sanction could command everyone directly, and the work would be carried out with an efficiency that would leave modern society staring in disbelief.
Annoying as it was, that was simply the truth.
“Review it once more. Make certain it matches the real conditions. I will not have problems arise once the crop rotation begins.”
Gilgamesh had the tablets taken away and gave careful instructions to the agricultural official standing before him with an oddly conflicted expression.
He paid the man’s face no mind and continued speaking.
“Only once agricultural production reaches a surplus will humanity have the spare strength to concern itself with anything else.”
That was simply the truth of it.
If he wanted to drag this world’s tech tree upward within a year—to the point where it would at least not shatter on contact when the Lostbelt King arrived—then the people of Uruk, and indeed all of Mesopotamia, would need to master agricultural techniques far beyond their era.
First, people had to shift their energy away from how to fill their stomachs and toward how to keep advancing.
If they could not even eat their fill, what right did they have to speak of development?
So what Gilgamesh had handed over was not merely a three-field crop rotation system. He had given them all the agricultural knowledge accumulated by modern society that could realistically be applied to this age.
The manufacture of farming tools, seed-breeding knowledge, and all manner of other things were included—written simply enough that even a fool ought to understand them.
Of course, I could just redeem a Noble Phantasm that automatically produces grain, but that would do civilization no favors. Worse, the system might not even count it toward the quest reward.
He had not forgotten the quest sitting on the system interface about developing civilization, something that happened to align perfectly with his aim of resisting the Lostbelt King.
A full twenty thousand points.
Gilgamesh was practically salivating over it.
And it was while his mind was lingering on those twenty thousand points that he noticed the agricultural official’s expression—like the man wanted to speak, yet dared not.
“Ahem. If you have something to say, then say it. I am not some tyrant who refuses to hear reason.”
He gave a light cough, drawing the official’s attention back to him, though it also made him want to complain a little.
He held it in.
The tall man clenched his teeth. His expression twisted further and further, and even his body began trembling, startling Gilgamesh badly.
Just as Gilgamesh was beginning to wonder whether this man had somehow come down with history’s earliest case of ADHD, the official dropped to his knees.
“Please, King Gilgamesh, withdraw this order!”
“…”
The air went silent for two full seconds.
Gilgamesh stroked his chin and looked down at him, something like understanding dawning in his eyes.
So. He had already run into one.
Someone who did not want change.
“Stand up.”
The king’s voice reached the agricultural official’s ears, frightening him so badly that his body shook even harder.
Rather than rising, he bowed even lower, his forehead striking the floor.
“King Gilgamesh! I have spent my whole life farming!”
The man seemed to believe he had already reached the end of his days, so he blurted everything out in one breath.
“From the day I was born until now, everyone has always farmed according to the old crop rotation methods. This is the blessing of the gods!”
“You’ve changed too much! Enough to overturn the daily lives and habits of everyone in Uruk, and it may even incur the gods’ displeasure!”
“This cannot be changed!”
Gilgamesh merely watched as the man—dutiful or not—finished speaking.
“Stand up.”
The man rose to his feet. Judging by his expression, he had already made peace with dying here.
“You need not trouble yourself over the gods.”
“But—”
“There is no ‘but’!”
Gilgamesh’s voice turned just as sharp.
“If anything happens, I shall bear it!”
BOOOOOM!
The instant those words left his mouth, the ceiling of the temple exploded apart, and massive chunks of stone came crashing down toward the agricultural official’s head.
“Ah… ah?”
Dust surged into the air, and the man had already braced himself for death.
But several divine weapons flashed through the air.
The fatal threat above his head was smashed to pieces.
“Let me see which mongrel dares stir up trouble before my eyes!”
Even through the thick dust, gold shone brilliantly. Then a gale swept through as something shot past above the man’s head at terrifying speed.
No matter how much he still wished to remonstrate with Gilgamesh, even he understood this was no longer a place for him to remain.
The moment he ran out of the temple, the clash began.
Clang!
The collision between the divine boat and the Noble Phantasms blasted the dust away. One weapon, knocked off course, slammed into the floor and blasted open a massive crater.
“You goldie! Cut it out!”
Ishtar descended from the sky, knocking aside several Noble Phantasms flying at her, but Gilgamesh kept firing from the Gate of Babylon without the slightest pause.
“I’m a goddess, you know! Uruk’s patron goddess! I came here on important business!”
“You dare prattle on about being a goddess?!”
With that furious roar, the golden ripples behind Gilgamesh multiplied explosively, nearing two hundred in number.
“You dare come here, cause trouble, and wreck my residence? Then keep that mouth shut until you’ve taken your beating!”
“You’re the one doing the worst damage here, you—!”
BOOOOOOOOOM!
Even while Ishtar was still dealing with the barrage of incoming Noble Phantasms, Gilgamesh had already taken Excalibur into his hand and begun charging it.
He was furious, yes, but he still knew this was where he lived. He could not use Ea here—not for this sort of indiscriminate attack.
So…
“Wait! What kind of lunatic opens with a finisher the moment he meets someone?!”
“[EXCALIBUR]!”
All of Uruk saw it: a pillar of light blasting out from the temple.
None of them could have imagined that the target of that beam would be their beloved goddess.
The beam struck the plains outside the city, and a conical pillar of light surged into the sky—just two arms short of becoming Patrick Star.
“Haaah… Much better.”
Thoroughly satisfied, Gilgamesh withdrew all the Noble Phantasms he had brought out, then summoned Vimana.
“My king!” Siduri came running from afar, her face filled with alarm.
“My king, you mustn’t—”
“Siduri? So you’re here.”
He cut her off, glanced around the main hall—which was now nearly in ruins—thought for a moment, and then said:
“That damned goddess made such a mess of this place. I’m going to collect compensation.”
A/N: I hope everyone will take this book’s setting as the main reference. Even if you want to discuss things, please don’t get too heated over it. I’ve already seen a lot of paragraph comments and reviews getting stuck on setting details, lol. I even deleted one that was just about to turn into a real argument.
Honestly, everyone has their own interpretation of this stuff. Especially with Type-Moon, a lot of settings really are just settings for the sake of being settings. Sometimes there isn’t even anything concrete to compare them against, and unresolved plot holes or overwritten settings happen all the time. If you’re not careful, arguments start easily, and everyone thinks they’re right.
But the truth is, there are also many things the official material never explained at all, so when we try to judge them, we end up having to infer things from the characters’ personalities.
And doesn’t that make arguments even easier to start?
Come to think of it, I’m still too inexperienced.
A lot of authors who write Type-Moon fanfiction and Gilgamesh just avoid controversial setting details altogether.
T/N: gilgamesh going excalibur….
This is a fan translation of 我要往王之财宝里再加点东西 by 海绵宝宝宝宝 Rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
Reader discussion
0 Comments
Be the first reader to share a thought about this chapter.