Between warriors born of dragon teeth and the dragon itself, who would prevail?
Watching those fierce warriors march in neat formation toward the woods housing the Golden Fleece, everyone shared the same question.
They soon received an answer at sunset.
Staring blankly at the warriors returning with the heavily wounded dragon still twitching in their grasp, the group exchanged stunned glances.
Clearly, the dragon was no match for warriors made entirely from its strongest parts.
After all, the dragon had just one mouthful of teeth—
But the warriors had bodies forged from the dragon's toughest aspect, and, moreover, they were blessed by the war god Ares.
At this sight, Medea's eyes sparkled slightly, while Aeëtes broke into a cold sweat.
"King Aeëtes," Rovi turned toward him calmly, "as you can see, I've fulfilled your three conditions, haven't I?"
"Ahem—Lord Rovi, you're indeed the most resourceful hero I've ever encountered," Aeëtes coughed softly, "but the Golden Fleece is an extraordinary treasure. I've hidden it in a very secretive place, so why don't you stay here for a few days? I'll give it to you afterward."
Aeëtes obviously intended to stall and back out.
"Father—" Medea instinctively tried to speak. Having realized Rovi's true identity, she wanted to persuade her father otherwise.
But Aeëtes refused to let her speak, interrupting: "Enough. Return and rest. Lord Rovi, I'll arrange our finest accommodations for you. Today has exhausted me as well."
"That's all!" With that, Aeëtes swiftly departed, accompanied by his guards.
As Medea left, she cast an apologetic glance at Rovi. "Please rest assured—I will convince my father to honor his promise."
Rovi waved casually, indicating he didn't mind.
Only after the group had gone, and the fields lay bathed in fading twilight, did Atalanta appear silently behind Rovi.
"Tch—That guy actually broke his promise!" Her beast-like ears twitched in irritation as she instinctively raised her bow, aiming toward the departing figure.
Rovi stopped her. "Relax. I'll make sure he honors his promise."
"After all, Aeëtes invoked his kingdom's name—so, why don't we simply let this kingdom change rulers?" Rovi smiled lightly.
"What are you planning?" Atalanta asked reflexively, before hastily adding, "Don't misunderstand! It's not that I'm concerned about you—I just despise oath-breakers!"
"Haven't you heard something important?" Rovi suddenly turned, staring intently at her.
"W-what?" Atalanta stammered slightly, cheeks reddening from his stare.
"Tsunderes always lose," Rovi declared solemnly, patting Atalanta's shoulder before strolling away.
He left behind a thoroughly bewildered Atalanta.
What's a tsundere? And what did he mean by losing?
Did he just call me a dog!?
Atalanta's ears flattened, her fists clenched.
"You bastard! You still haven't told me what you're planning!"
"You'll find out tonight—wait, why are you biting me again? Your saliva's hard to wipe off!" Rovi complained miserably.
...
Nightfall.
In the Colchis royal palace, Princess Medea sat alone in her bedroom, dressed in a thin gown, facing a small mirror illuminated by a flickering candle. Her eyes closed gently in concentration.
She was conducting a divination—questioning the 'magic mirror' to find answers deep within her own heart.
As Colchis's beloved princess, Medea had studied under many magi since childhood, displaying remarkable aptitude for magecraft.
Thanks to this, she had earned the favor of Hecate, goddess of magecraft, mastering many forms of magecraft and even Magic.
Yet, in truth, Medea rarely used mirror-divination.
Brilliant since childhood, she'd seldom needed to seek answers from within.
But tonight, she needed guidance on a troubling question:
That young-looking man…
"Is he truly the Sage of Uruk himself?"
Only if this were certain could she persuade her father effectively…though knowing Aeëtes, he'd probably still remain obstinate even if convinced.
"Isn't the answer obvious?" A voice suddenly rang behind her. Medea's eyes flew open, and in the mirror, she saw Rovi sitting calmly behind her, as though he'd always been there.
He wore the same ash-gray robes, seated casually in the princess's chair, his dark hair gently swaying in the candlelight.
Medea stiffened, though she wasn't frightened.
After all…
"If the legendary Sage of Uruk, who crossed millennia returning from the Imaginary Sea, truly wanted to harm me—I wouldn't be able to resist anyway, right?" Medea smiled faintly, not turning, still watching through the mirror.
Rovi didn't look at her either; he gazed out the window instead.
"You seem deeply dissatisfied with your father," he remarked quietly.
"It's not dissatisfaction. Just worry," Medea shook her head softly. "Father's methods are wrong—I don't agree with his actions—"
"But that's dissatisfaction," Rovi clapped lightly.
"Aeëtes is tyrannical and cruel, harsh domestically and dishonest externally."
"Medea, you're favored by Hecate—you disdain this behavior."
Though Rovi openly criticized her father, Medea offered no rebuttal.
Because Rovi was merely speaking the truth.
"So what?" she finally said. "I'm only his daughter—one without the right to inherit. His favoritism is simply because the magecraft I've learned helps him maintain his reckless indulgence—"
"You're merely a tool," Rovi finished for her. "Don't you want to change that?"
"Change!?" Medea spun around sharply, staring directly at Rovi.
"Yes, change," Rovi smiled. "I can help you become this country's ruler."
"Once you become king, you'll control your fate rather than remain a mere tool."
"But you must agree to my terms—"
"Fulfill the promise and give me the Golden Fleece. Also…treat your people well, govern with fairness and kindness…"
Rovi spoke as though he didn't expect a reply, listing conditions matter-of-factly.
In reality, this was precisely the "change of rulers" he'd hinted at to Atalanta earlier.
And it was exactly why he'd come tonight—
Outside the window, a pair of feline eyes closely watched him.
"But I won't allow anything you can't bear," Medea quickly regained composure after initial shock. "I can't kill my family just to seize a throne that's not mine!"
Unaffected by Cupid's arrow, Medea wasn't consumed by madness as legends suggested.
Her violet eyes stared intently at the Sage, words filled with intelligence and weary resignation.
Rovi naturally understood Medea's dilemma—an unavoidable key issue.
"No killing required—not even harm," Rovi reassured her, his smile deepening as he stood slowly. "But if your father and brother happened to be captured, leaving only you to manage state affairs—"
"Then, eventually, you'd have no choice but to reluctantly take the throne, right?"
That's impossible, Medea almost replied. Aeëtes had a powerful army, and was himself a formidable demigod—
Unless Rovi himself intervened…
But that would fundamentally change everything.
After all, Rovi intended to be recognized as a hero, not a bandit seizing kingdoms—even if the distinction between hero and bandit wasn't always clear in these times.
If he wanted the attention of the King of Gods, he'd need to be extraordinary.
Medea knew he wouldn't act so crudely.
Yet, the next moment, she felt slight tremors through the floor. Looking out, she saw armored warriors and flames rushing by.
It was the warriors born of dragon teeth—and the very dragon itself.
Forces now controlled by Rovi.
"The warriors are Aeëtes's treasures, and the dragon guards Colchis's forest—none of this directly involves either of us."
Though Rovi had shown his power earlier, Aeëtes's vanity would never allow such news to spread, and he'd already sealed off all information.
Rovi rose, extending his hand to Medea. "Well, Princess Medea? Right now, you're the only one who can restore order to this chaos."
"I'll help stabilize matters and put you on the throne. Meanwhile, I'll earn the title 'Hero Who Saved the Nation'."
"A perfect win-win."
Rovi had planned this meticulously since daylight.
Medea froze momentarily, her mouth slightly parted. She hadn't expected Rovi's preparations to be so thorough, covering every detail.
Finally, after a pause, she spoke softly:
"Lord Rovi—you truly are terrifying, almost like a devil."
Rovi didn't deny it. "I am indeed a devil, but one who acts recklessly only against those who act recklessly."
He did this for the Fleece—and because he despised Aeëtes's cruelty.
He felt irritation at seeing the oppressed suffer.
He felt anger at seeing oppressors act with impunity.
So he'd acted recklessly himself.
He could be an unrestrained devil—but one who turned his claws against other devils.
Good or evil—why even care?
"But you're also a hero." Medea smiled, radiant like never before, as she gently placed her fingers into Rovi's hand.
He was a hero.
A hero for mortals.
But more than anything, in this moment, he was the hero who freed her from her cage.
---
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