Off the coast of the Kingdom of Colchis.
Morning sunlight filtered through the thin sea mist, spilling warm, gentle golden streaks across the water and blending with the waves into shimmering patterns.
The nearby fishing boats had yet to set out, but a magnificent cedar-built ship approached the harbor. Like a giant striding atop the waves, it moved with overwhelming presence and power, drawing passersby to stop and stare in astonishment.
"Creak…"
As the door quivered open, Samael stepped inside the Argo's conference room, stretching with a lazy yawn. He looked half-asleep.
Atalanta followed behind him, glowing with energy, her complexion rosy and refreshed.
Truly, oxen tire, not the fields they plow.
Tsk—could even a sturdy beast like him not withstand it?
The male heroes, who already knew about the pair's relationship, exchanged suggestive looks and chuckled quietly, their expressions full of teasing amusement.
Jason, ever the lively one, scooted up to Samael, waggled his brows, and patted him on the shoulder with exaggerated solemnity.
"We're about to go ashore. Try to show some restraint—don't end up unable to stand straight…"
Samael hadn't forgotten the grudge from last time, when this guy joked he was "walking while hugging the wall."
Seeing the mischief in Jason's eyes, Samael's mouth twitched as he rolled his eyes.
Restraint, my ass!
Last night, the boss lady dragged him into her room, but forget "stealing affection"—he didn't even get to touch a single hair.
Atalanta's so-called "I'll take good care of you" meant strapping lead weights to his limbs, layering on Circe's magical suppression curses, and making him maintain perfect bow posture while training every muscle in his body.
And to entertain herself—while raising the difficulty—the lioness occupying the bed opened up a book and made him tutor her, continuing her literacy lessons.
After half the night of this nonsense, Atalanta drifted off to sleep, peaceful as could be. He, on the other hand, stayed awake all night. Exhausted body and soul—how was he supposed to look energetic?
A perfect chance for affection turned into a full-blown "idle harassment play."
And she dares call that pampering?
Besides, he wasn't even into that.
But before Samael could defend himself or complain aloud—
Atalanta, embarrassed by all the teasing glances thrown her way, flushed and shot him a sharp glare, warning him to get a grip.
The huntress regretted her impulsive decision to drag him into her room just to punish him a little.
This was all his fault!
Why else would he sneak into her room at night? He claimed it was for extra lessons, but every time, the "lessons" somehow ended on her bed. Then he'd walk out refreshed and full of vigor while she was left sore all over.
This time she actually made him focus and work properly. But instead she slept like a baby, and now he was the one looking drained?
You did this on purpose. You definitely did this on purpose!
Atalanta gritted her teeth, letting out a faint huff as she silently cursed him.
Under her pointed warning, Samael could only pull himself together, shift the topic, and smooth over the awkwardness.
"We're docking soon. Once we reach the Kingdom of Colchis, what's the plan, Captain?"
"Ahem… Well… obviously, we gather intel first…"
Jason winced under the "friendly" shoulder pat that left half his body numb, forcing out a strained laugh.
"With this many heroes backing you, why not just walk straight in?"
"I'm here to request a treasure, not to sack a kingdom. If things can be resolved peacefully, there's no need for force…"
"Then why gather intel at all? With our status, can't we just demand it? Aren't heroes bold and all that?"
"Ahem—being overconfident isn't wise. The Golden Fleece is Colchis's national treasure. If I were them, I wouldn't give it up either. We should understand the situation first. Wasn't that something you taught us?"
"What about the rest of you? Anyone want to volunteer, go ashore alone, and fetch the Golden Fleece? I'll have Orpheus write a song about your glorious deeds when you return!"
"This bastard's grin is too sinister—he's definitely up to something. He must be eyeing the money we worked so hard to save along the way!"
Samael's half-smiling jabs sparked friendly banter. Familiar with each other's personalities by now, the heroes only laughed, cursing and shoving each other playfully rather than taking offense.
The Ancient Serpent nodded with faint satisfaction.
He couldn't change the Argonauts' innate flaws, but getting them to rein in their impulses, watch their tongues, and think before acting at crucial moments was already no small feat.
Soon, everyone in the conference room settled down and began discussing what to watch out for in the city and the tasks each person would take on once they entered Colchis.
Beyond that, they also settled the schedule for exchanging information and regrouping, agreeing unanimously to pay their formal visit to the King of Colchis three days later.
Once the meeting ended, everyone followed Jason to burn incense and complete their prayers and offerings to the gods. Only then did the Argo truly pick up speed and glide into the harbor.
With three whole days to prepare, the heroes relaxed considerably.
When the hatch opened, they streamed out in lively groups, chatting and laughing. Each carried the spoils earned during the journey—now repurposed as trade goods to exchange for some spending money—and dispersed into the royal city of Colchis.
Samael had originally intended to stroll the streets hand-in-hand with Atalanta and enjoy a rare moment of leisure together.
But the lioness, having awakened her sense of independence, shot him a faint glance. Realizing they had been stuck to each other far too much recently, she decisively joined Caenis, Circe, and the other women instead. She claimed she wanted some personal space during the day and left him behind without a second thought.
After all, in her mind, Samael was mainly for nighttime use.
Felines—absolutely heartless.
The Ancient Serpent crouched on the ground and drew circles in silent frustration.
This humanoid catgirl he'd ended up with was sensitive and proud, easily slipping into a hot-and-cold dynamic with her "owner."
And now, given the chance to run off and have fun, she wasn't about to stay and entertain him.
Fine. If no one wants to accompany me, I'll just walk around on my own. After babysitting the Argo for so long—working hard in every sense—I deserve to enjoy life a little.
Finding comfort in resignation, Samael stretched lazily and wandered toward the bustling markets of Colchis.
Moving along with the crowd, the Ancient Serpent let himself relax, quickly rediscovering the familiar feeling of sightseeing from his past life.
He bought local snacks and fruits to sample their flavors; chatted with friendly vendors to learn Colchian customs and odd stories; crouched down to observe pottery and metal-working techniques; and purchased a few attractive trinkets as souvenirs.
As he reached a quieter corner on the western side of the market, a small tent draped in black cloth caught his eye—an improvised fortune-telling stall.
Its shabby location and absurd fee of one gold Zeus left the area completely deserted.
As he neared it by chance, he felt a faintly obstructive layer of invisible mana—some sort of protective ward—stirring his curiosity.
Lifting the curtain, he stepped inside.
Behind the table, a hooded diviner wrapped head-to-toe in a cloak was slumped over, dozing.
On the shelves behind the stall keeper lay an assortment of strange objects—geckos, spiders, eyeballs, and other unnerving curiosities—creating a thoroughly eerie atmosphere.
So this fortune-telling was actually some half-baked witchcraft divination. With a setup like a haunted house, no wonder not a single customer showed up...
...
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