The royal banquet of Colchis was about to begin.
The thirty-some Argonauts who had received invitations had already arrived before the gates of the palace.
This time, because they had received an official royal invitation, the reception accorded to the heroes was naturally different from when Jason and the others had visited at noon.
The palace gates stood wide open. Soldiers wearing ceremonial armor lined both sides of the entrance, standing in formation to welcome the heroes.
Of course, at the gate the heroes also saw many others dressed in splendid formal attire, Colchis' ministers, generals, nobles, and their families, all guests arriving to attend the banquet.
The Kingdom of Colchis was merely a nation born in the age when human civilization first began to rise in the divine era.
Naturally, it did not possess any truly formalized etiquette like the dynasties familiar in later history.
Thus at this moment, everyone was gathered before the palace gates, watching with curiosity as these guests, said to be distinguished visitors from beyond Colchis, from the great continent, approached.
Word had spread that these guests were all renowned heroes of the mainland, and that among them were even figures who possessed divine blood like King Aeetes himself.
Naturally, the upper echelons of Colchis were very curious about such visitors.
In this era, when civilization was just beginning to flourish, information was extremely restricted, and even ocean-going ships did not exist.
Only mages had the ability to travel between the island of Colchis and the Greek mainland.
But since the mage community was relatively closed off and seldom interacted with the upper nobles, the arrival of the Argonauts was an extraordinary novelty for Colchis' aristocracy.
Rather than admiring the heroes' renown, these people were, in truth, mostly here to watch a spectacle.
Still, regardless of their motives, their presence made the Argonauts, at least Jason, quite excited.
Jason, who was extremely enthusiastic about spreading fame for his own name, naturally saw an opportunity in such a moment.
This was his chance to let these people witness the splendor of the great hero Jason, leader of the Argonauts.
Thinking so, Jason, shining from head to toe in golden brilliance, strode out at the very front, leading the heroes in a proud and spirited march into the palace.
As he advanced with large, confident steps, he seemed to hear the murmurs rising from the crowd.
"So these are the heroes from the mainland?"
"They certainly have presence."
"I heard there are demigods among them, just like His Majesty Aeetes."
"Wow! Look at that one, he looks so strong, so muscular. As expected of a great hero!"
"That one holding the lyre is lovely too, handsome face, melancholy eyes… absolutely captivating!"
"No, no, look at the one in front, the one gleaming like gold! He must be their leader, right? He's the most handsome!"
…
The Argonauts were truly Argonauts, even without displaying their strength, their looks alone were enough to win hearts.
And Jason, walking at the very front, became all the more proud as he heard their chatter.
His strides grew even more forceful.
He believed that at tonight's banquet, he would conquer this kingdom with his personal charm, convincing King Aeetes to yield concerning the Golden Fleece.
"As expected of me," he thought, "no matter where I go, all are awed by me. I am the hero destined by fate."
Thinking this, he felt an even greater anticipation for the banquet, and what might come after.
Because among the onlookers, he had noticed quite a few noble ladies and young noblewomen, and he could never mistake those shimmering, love-struck gazes they cast in the heroes' direction.
Perhaps tonight, Jason would once again experience some delightful encounter.
Of course, there were also others in the crowd whom Jason found noteworthy.
They were figures draped in mage robes and holding long staves. Most were elderly men with white hair, and several wore hoods that concealed their faces.
They mingled among the nobles, yet Jason, who came from an illustrious lineage, was certain they were not nobles at all.
The nobles' grace and elegance, their bearing and refined manner, their air of pampered privilege, none of these were present in these robed figures.
Yet the fact remained that they stood among the nobles.
Though the nobles kept a certain distance from them, much like they did from commoners, there was no trace of disrespect.
On the contrary, the nobles treated them with reverence.
Who exactly were these people?
Jason did not understand, but this was not the moment to concern himself with their identities.
He would surely learn soon enough at the banquet.
With that thought, Jason continued forward.
But once the entire Argonaut company had passed through the palace gates, the previously noisy crowd suddenly fell silent.
The sudden change immediately caught Jason's attention.
He noticed that at this moment, everyone's gaze was fixed on him… or rather, on the space behind him.
Their eyes were filled with astonishment, admiration, fervor…
What was going on? What were they looking at?
Jason was puzzled, until something occurred to him. He followed the direction of their gazes and turned around.
All eyes were fixed on one man.
Alaric.
And the white, resplendent robe he wore.
That robe radiated a sacred and mysterious aura, and when worn by a handsome and wise man like him, it expressed the mage's elegance, intellect, and mystique to absolute perfection.
Even though he was merely walking quietly at the very end of the Argonauts' formation, his presence alone eclipsed that of all the heroes combined.
The existence of the Third Magic was the greatest, deepest secret in the world.
Its mere presence was enough to make one's soul instinctively sink into fascination.
And combined with Alaric's own charisma, and the aura he carried as a legendary mage, no, as a mage standing near the absolute pinnacle of all legendary mages,
He now seemed like the very center of the world.
No matter how noble the aristocrat, how proud the noble maiden, how powerful the high-ranking official… in this moment, every gaze was drawn to him alone, subdued by his allure.
"No… no way…" Jason's heart was practically wailing.
"I'm the leader of the Argo! I'm the protagonist of the quest for the Golden Fleece!
Why is everyone looking only at him? Why is he stealing all of my glory? This isn't how it's supposed to be!"
But what Jason failed to notice was this:
Those robed "strange figures" with staves were also watching Alaric.
Unlike the others, however, their eyes held not only admiration, but a deep, fervent obsession.
The obsession of those who alone understood, the madness and reverence of seekers of magic, for the very pinnacle of the world's laws.