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A few hours ago, within a forest in Italy, nearly a hundred meters underground.
In the silent secret chamber, several sorceresses held magic books that looked extremely ancient and slightly yellowed.
These sorceresses were each clad in magical vestments suitable for spirit summoning, adding a touch of mystery to these already beautiful women, enhanced by the effects of magic.
However, contrasting with those precious magical vestments, the bodies of these sorceresses were directly exposed, their snow-white skin adorned with lines of spell runes drawn in fresh blood.
But now, the magic circle etched onto the floor, emitting a golden fluorescent glow, and the precious gems inlaid on the walls according to stellar alignments, elevated the atmosphere here to one of extreme solemnity. Even if the sorceresses were incomparably alluring, likely no one would entertain any improper thoughts.
However, something else was even more attention-grabbing.
It was human corpses. Corpses of young children. Piled layer upon layer, numbering several hundred young children's corpses.
Around the magic circle, the corpses were piled up like garbage, emitting a nauseating stench of blood.
Yet, the sorceresses present were completely unaffected by this bloody smell.
They all acted like machines, preparing the ritual with utmost precision.
This incredibly vast ritual magic had been prepared for nearly a hundred years; failure was absolutely not an option.
"The hounds of the Bronze Black Cross are already approaching."
The only seemingly 'idle' girl, whose eyes had been tightly shut, opened her utterly colorless eyes.
"The god-summoning ritual absolutely must not fail! You all must stop those fellows, even at the cost of your own lives!"
This frail young girl, the commander of the sorceresses present from her organization, showed no trace of panic even in such a critical situation. She issued this cruel command with utter indifference.
After all, although she still appeared frail like a teenage girl, she had already lived through several centuries.
None of the sorceresses present answered her words; none refused, nor did anyone agree.
The sorceresses silently completed the final preparations for the magic ritual, then rose one by one and walked towards the exit.
Watching these apprentices resolutely go to their deaths, although the frail young girl remained expressionless like ice on a mountaintop, a trace of tears still welled up at the corner of her eye.
"Then, it is up to you all. The revival of our organization, the 'Rosicrucian Order' (rosicrucuan), rests upon your lives."
Saying this, she looked towards the remaining five sorceresses. Although a trace of reluctance showed on her face, she nevertheless gave the command decisively.
"Begin the blood sacrifice! May the descending 'Heretic God' grant us the glory of reviving our organization!"
Following her words, the five sorceresses raised the daggers in their hands—carved from crystal, adorned with gold.
Then, without a shred of hesitation, they plunged the daggers into their own chests.
Even as blood gushed from their mouths, the five sorceresses seemed completely oblivious, steadfastly chanting incantations praising the gods.
"Then, descend, O God! Let us mortals upon this earth feel the majesty of the divine!"
As the chanting concluded, the five sorceresses lost the breath of life, collapsing onto the magic circle cast in gold.
The crimson blood seeping from their bodies stained the golden magic circle.
Then, the door to this secret chamber, nearly a hundred meters underground, was suddenly flung open.
Knights clad in silver armor entered one after another, their faces filled with hatred—hatred for these sorceresses who wantonly slaughtered mortals to perform their ritual.
"Evil sorceress, accept the punishment of death!"
A voice of extreme delicacy spoke. Lilianna, dressed in a light blue knight uniform, walked out from among the knights.
She looked at the corpses of the young children carelessly tossed on the ground, her eyes filled with boundless fury. Her small, fair hand gripping 'Il Maestro' clenched so tightly due to excessive force that it turned slightly pink.
"No, it's already too late!"
The commander sorceress's eyes held a look of worship as she watched the magic circle glow ever brighter.
As motes of pale golden magical light dust rose, a golden figure materialized within the magic circle.
"O God! Our God! Please deliver unto these sinners the punishment they deserve!"
The sorceress's eyes burned with fervor, staring intently at the figure appearing in the magic circle.
This was the hope of her organization for centuries, the very meaning of her existence in this mortal world.
"That's a Heretic God! Retreat quickly!"
A knight clad in thick silver armor saw the descending golden figure, unable to even grip the longsword in his hand tightly.
That endless majesty bore down heavily on everyone present, robbing these high-ranking sorceresses and knights of even the ability to stand straight.
"Mongrel, who are you calling a god?"
The golden figure was precisely the newly descended Gilgamesh. He tilted his head slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting gently, contemptuously eyeing the people prostrating themselves before his majesty.
However, his tone was filled with endless killing intent.
"Fortunate enough to behold this King, yet ignorant of this King's name? A fool like you is utterly unfit to live!"
As these words fell, the frail sorceress was pierced through by numerous sharp swords.
Those were manifestations of a Heroic Spirit, existences known as 'Noble Phantasms'. They effortlessly tore through the layers of magical barriers on the sorceress's body, then pierced into her delicate form.
"Why... O God, why do this!?"
The sorceress questioned unwillingly, then collapsed into the pool of blood formed by the dead children, the dead sorceresses, and her own flowing blood.
"This King is the Monarch of Uruk, the sole King above Heaven and Earth, Gilgamesh!"
He spoke thus, his slightly upturned face seeming to mock the sorceress's overestimation of her own abilities.
"Daring to summon this King in such a place is itself a heinous crime!"
Hearing his arrogant words, a trace of unwillingness flashed through the sorceress's eyes.
She never expected that the god they had prepared nearly a century to summon would actually utterly destroy their organization.
Indeed, Heretic Gods were inherently unworthy of belief.
Holding this thought, the sorceress died upon the cold ground.
And at this moment, Lilianna did not flee in panic along with the other knights.
Paying no mind to the blood staining the ground, she respectfully performed a standard knightly salute.
"O King! Please bestow upon our organization, the Bronze Black Cross, the grace to humbly welcome Your Majesty's advent!"