"Man, I've never seen anything like this! The Argo has got to be the greatest ship in the whole world!"
Jason, now freed from his gaudy gold-threaded silks and dressed in loose sailor's garb, threw an arm around Samael's neck with familiar enthusiasm. Staring at the Argo moored upon the waves, he was practically trembling with excitement.
"Yeah. The Argo is the best ship. And Jason will become the best captain."
Samael came back to his senses, patting his half-friend on the shoulder with a warm smile of encouragement.
"Ah, it's not that amazing. It's all thanks to the gods' favor, and everyone's help."
Even as he said it, the golden-haired youth couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from lifting. A little pride slipped through. In these twenty-something years of life, he'd rarely had a moment this glorious—he was the center of the entire city.
Naturally, he drifted on that high, scuttling away in his trademark crab-step, diving back into the crowd with a flushed face as he boasted loudly, spittle flying, about the divine luck that had blessed him.
Samael watched him leading the heroes on a tour of the Argo, then quietly shook his head and sighed.
The gods' gifts always come with a cost.
A cost that must be paid.
And that cost is your soul… your fate… your life.
The Ancient Serpent stepped onto the deck, leaning against the railing. Athena's warning from several days before echoed in his mind, and his expression darkened.
The world only remembered the grandeur and wonder of the Argo's voyage—but what happened after?
The elder twin of the sword brothers died in conflict; the younger followed in burial, becoming the constellation Gemini…
The healer-god who crafted an elixir of immortality disrupted the Underworld's order, was struck down by Zeus's thunder, and became Ophiuchus…
Orpheus, the brilliant singer, was butchered by Dionysus's frenzied maenads for supposed disrespect, torn apart and discarded to become Lyra…
Atalanta became a lion, harnessed to pull the chariot of the old gods…
Caenis was buried alive by centaurs, suffocating beneath the earth…
The wooden fated-effigy that sustained Prince Meleager's life was burned by his mother—ending his…
Heracles, tainted by Hydra's venom, ended his own life…
And even Jason—who prided himself on his "luck"—fared no better. After betraying Medea, his two sons and new bride died horribly, he lost Hera's protection, and in the end he slept beneath the stern of the Argo only for the collapsing ship to crush him flat—
In truth, out of all fifty Argonauts, most met unnatural deaths.
Athena had been right. This ship had already become a grand altar, and the Argonauts were the offerings laid upon it—sacrifices to entertain Olympus.
The question is whether you can stomach this entire offering, Zeus.
Samael glanced toward the towering sacred mountain of Olympus, cold light flickering in his eyes.
Still… the god-king planning to sacrifice all fifty Argonauts at once, combined with how aggressively he'd been recruiting for Paradise Island lately—almost as if driven by fear—was suspicious.
Don't tell me… our plan leaked? That shouldn't be possible.
He frowned, deciding he would pay extra attention during the voyage and accelerate the search for Paradise Island.
Just then, the booming noise of the port snapped him from his thoughts.
Local soldiers were carrying sacks of flour, smoked meat, salt, fresh water, and other supplies needed for long-distance sailing. Argos, the giant serving Hera, tossed them onto the Argo's deck with casual ease, where the heroes sorted and stored them.
Ever since witnessing multiple divine miracles firsthand, the old king had been scared nearly senseless. He'd hidden in the palace ever since, refusing to step outside. And to send his "walking calamity" of a nephew away as soon as possible, he'd even dispatched his palace guards to assist with preparations as a show of submission.
With the whole city mobilized—and the advantage of Iolcos being a coastal port—Jason's listed supply requirements were fully met within just half a day, with surplus to spare.
By sundown, Samael added one last-minute request for oranges, grapes, lemons, and other fruits. These were carried into the cargo hold until the waterline dipped low, the heavily loaded Argo gleaming in the sunset.
"Wind direction perfect!"
"Wind speed steady!"
"All hands aboard! The Argo is fully prepared!"
Signals echoed from every part of the ship, heroes stationed in precisely the right places thanks to their natural gifts.
"Alright! Weigh anchor—set sail!"
Standing at the bow, Jason inhaled deeply several times just to steady himself. Then, drawing his bronze sword with solemn ceremony, he raised it toward the horizon. From his chest burst a trembling yet rousing shout of command and encouragement.
"By the gods above, glory shall belong to the Argonauts!"
"All hands, depart!"
At that moment, as if the gods truly heard the roar of mortals, the pure white clouds split apart. A fierce crosswind swept in, heaving the sea and swelling the massive sails. The mighty Argo surged out of the harbor and into the vast, uncharted waters.
Onshore, the people erupted in cheers. Seeing the majestic ship charge toward a sea still unconquered by humankind, they tossed flowers and felt honored to witness the moment.
In this age, heroes and adventure were worshipped. If Jason could truly bring glory to Iolcos, then he—its rightful heir—would be the new king without question.
After all, only such a hero could protect their city-state and its people.
…
When the coastline finally disappeared behind them, Jason—who had been putting on an impressive front—immediately deflated. His shoulders sagged, and he slumped like a puppet with its strings cut.
After wiping imaginary sweat from his brow, the captain sidled up to Samael to complain.
"This wind came way too late. We'll have to push through the night—never a good sign. And if I hadn't hidden a bit of Asclepius's energy tonic in my sleeve, I would've collapsed before we even left port. I swear, you divine-blooded types are worse than beasts."
Samael brushed aside the hand clinging to him in disgust.
"What's wrong, Captain? We've barely set sail and you're already regretting it?"
"Of course I regret it! If I'd known my uncle was going to boot me out so quickly, I should've enjoyed myself last night—worked those beauties until their legs gave out!"
Jason clicked his tongue shamelessly. His regret was genuine, revealing his true nature as someone ruled entirely by lust rather than sentiment.
"I don't know if their legs would've gone weak," Samael said dryly, "but yours definitely would have. You might not have even made it out the door without holding onto the wall."
Jason froze for a beat, then his face darkened like burnt charcoal. Against Samael's legendary "achievements," even livestock would bow their heads in shame. Best to change the subject before humiliating himself further.
"Alright, enough jokes. Night sailing's risky. We should double-check the route to the Kingdom of Colchis so nothing goes wrong."
Jason tugged the Goddess of Wisdom's foster son along and called over Heracles and the others. They entered the captain's cabin, spreading out the map to analyze potential dangers and the preparations required.
The moment he slipped into captain mode, the carefree golden-haired youth became calm and collected. Even Atalanta—who'd never thought highly of him—found herself nodding in approval at his decisions.
This guy… had somehow become reliable.
The Argo was the finest ship, and Jason was the finest captain.
As he looked out at the night slowly settling over the sea, the praise of his friend echoed in his mind, and a quiet smile unfurled across his face.
...
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