A Kings reach
Ethan never expected things to turn out this way.
The Hive Mind's voice rang out, flat and emotionless:
"Shall I exterminate them?"
Ethan had complete control over all lifeforms born from Tyranis spores. The Bugapes were no exception.
He stood in silence, considering the situation, then asked:
"Gilgamesh has absorbed the termite gene. His strength and lifespan are far above the others. Does that mean he's ascended?"
The Hive Mind replied:
"No. He's only taken the first step. True ascension means breaking free from passive evolution and gaining full control over your genetic code. Gilgamesh can't even edit his genes to create an open sequence for a third gene."
Ethan let out a slow breath.
It wasn't that simple after all.
Even with a whole planet covered in Tyranis spores, only a few true ascended beings ever emerged. These three managed to absorb a second gene only because of their unique talent and mental resilience. But without that blank space in their genetic code, adding a third gene was impossible.
Gilgamesh still had potential, yes. But that didn't justify the path he'd taken—conquering everything in his way, throwing the world into chaos.
"Don't intervene," Ethan said to the Hive. "I want to see what he's capable of."
---
After surviving two extinction events, Ethan's body had grown significantly stronger. The side effects of his cancer treatments were gone, and now he was in better shape than most people.
As for Gilgamesh, his strength came from having the relative power of a termite. Insects could carry many times their own weight—but in the end, he was still no bigger than an ant.
---
The ground shook violently.
Tens of thousands of archers fired their arrows into the sky—but in front of the towering Ethan, the Sumerian army might as well have been a swarm of flies.
The arrows struck his pants, bouncing harmlessly off the fabric of his blue jeans. Their sharpest blades couldn't even cut through his clothes.
It was like brushing through a patch of weeds and ending up with some thorns stuck to your pants. That was the extent of their attack.
"Not even our best weapons can get through his clothes?"
Gilgamesh looked surprised, but then narrowed his eyes in determination.
"Just as I thought… Numbers mean nothing in the face of overwhelming scale."
He crouched, then leapt high into the air.
His pale body blurred as he landed on Ethan's boot, sword in hand. He began to climb rapidly, leaping from fold to fold in the denim.
In seconds, he had reached Ethan's knee.
"Fast," Ethan muttered. "Like a flea. The power in that tiny frame is impressive."
He casually swatted at Gilgamesh.
"You'll have to try harder than that!" the Hero King shouted, jumping aside just in time. His body moved with inhuman agility, dashing and leaping higher up Ethan's leg.
To a normal human, jeans looked smooth. But for someone ant-sized, they were a rough, uneven surface full of ridges and footholds—like climbing a cliff face.
"So this is the Great Beast of Wisdom," Gilgamesh thought. "Even the wind pressure from his movements could throw me off."
---
"Your Majesty! Ishtar has arrived!"
From the plains below, Ishtar, Queen of the Steppes, soared through the air. Her muscular, battle-hardened body moved with precision as she landed on Ethan's pant leg, warhammer in hand.
"Here comes another one," Ethan muttered and swiped his hand toward her.
Ishtar dodged once, then twice—but the third swing came faster.
BOOM.
The blow landed. She was thrown through the air, coughing blood as she fell.
Without waiting, Ethan turned his attention back to Gilgamesh and swung his hand down.
"No—!"
Gilgamesh raised his sword just in time.
Ethan's palm slammed into the blade.
The impact sent him flying like a stone from a catapult. He fell from Ethan's waist—only a meter or two in real-world distance, but to him, it was thousands of meters.
Like Ishtar, he crashed into the ground. Their bones shattered on impact. Blood spread beneath them.
But neither of them died.
They still clung to life.
Ethan crouched down to take a closer look—and noticed something surprising.
A small cut had opened on his palm. Blood oozed out slowly.
"He actually cut me," Ethan murmured. "That technique… that strength… If these two were human-sized, they'd be superhuman. They could leap over buildings, survive falls from helicopters, dodge bullets…"
"They're starting to evolve into something else."
Even so, at that scale, they couldn't truly threaten him.
---
On the ground, Gilgamesh lay in a pool of his own blood, his sword still in hand.
He laughed softly.
"I lost in a single strike… and all I managed to do was cut his skin."
Above him, the sky glowed.
Ethan stood tall, his silhouette blurred by sunlight. He looked down in silence, watching the leader who had once defied him as a child now lie broken at his feet.
But in Gilgamesh's smile—there was no regret.
He had drawn blood.
And in his eyes, that meant he had won something.