Inside the camp reserved for those with merit, in one of the tents…
Having finally been settled in, Jason clutched the food he'd been issued and shoveled it down. He ate so fast he nearly choked.
"Slow down. If it's not enough, I can have someone bring you more."
Samael got up, handed him a cup of warm water, and spoke gently.
"Th-thank you… thanks… sorry to trouble you, Theseus…"
After gulping down the water and catching his breath, Jason looked unmistakably embarrassed.
"It's fine. It's nothing. You looked after me in Calydon and Iolcos. And Rhode and Caenis told me you took good care of them on the way back, too."
Samael's faint smile and calm tone only made Jason drop his head even more, eyes darting away.
To break up the heavy mood in the tent, the Ancient Serpent casually asked about what had happened along the roads near Jason's home in Iolcos, and about his life after the Argonautic Expedition.
When Jason started talking, the difference was obvious. The once high-spirited social prince, who had returned with the Golden Fleece full of swagger, now looked worn down and bitter.
At first, when he came back, his uncle Pelias had been almost overly warm, acting close and welcoming. But as the heroes from the various Greek city-states gradually left, the king who had seized power changed his face. Before long, he stopped bothering to hide his intentions.
That hardened usurper not only arranged for Jason's father, Aeson, to be poisoned in secret, he also pinned the crime on Jason. He stripped Jason of every shred of honor, drove him out of Iolcos, and sent troops after him to hunt him down.
During that time, Jason lived on a knife's edge, constantly hiding and running, terrified that if he was caught for even a moment, he'd be killed.
The Golden Fleece, the legendary divine gift said to bring wealth and glory… the irony was that the Iolcos prince who had risked everything to obtain it ended up living an even more wretched life.
As for why he never went to the friends who had sailed with him on the Argo for help, Samael could guess from the awkward look on his face.
Anyone who had boarded the Argo as a divine-blood hero was among Greece's finest. None of them were fools. And in this era, keeping one's word mattered more than life itself. After they parted ways from Atlantis, even if they didn't say it aloud, most of the crew looked down on Jason for running when it mattered most.
Once he'd lost their trust, getting their help again would be difficult no matter what. And Jason, still clinging to a shred of shame, didn't have the nerve to go begging at their doors.
But whether it was luck or misfortune, the upheaval in Olympus and the opening of the Gigantomachy had swept all the way to Iolcos. The entire country, being on the coast, had been wiped out under the strikes of the giant war machines.
Even with no pursuers left, Jason had nowhere to go. Just to survive, he could only follow the stream of Iolcos refugees pouring toward the "safe zone" behind the third defensive line on the Peloponnesus Peninsula.
Unfortunately, he came at the worst possible time. With the situation so urgent, most of the Argonaut heroes had already been sent out by Samael on various missions.
Even if Jason swallowed his pride and tried to claim the treatment reserved for those with merit, there was no familiar face nearby who could prove who he was. With his current state, it was only natural people would look at him with suspicion and contempt.
As for Jason's situation, Samael didn't really have much to say.
Jason was just… Jason. An ordinary man, exhausting himself day after day chasing his own desires, only to be toyed with by fate like a pitiful marionette.
His desertion at Atlantis was hardly something to praise, but Samael had never placed much hope in him to begin with, and he wasn't interested in tearing into him now.
In the end, Jason had simply followed his nature and made the most human choice possible.
And he'd already paid the price for it.
Out of consideration for their past acquaintance, Samael didn't mind offering whatever help was within his means.
But only that much.
With Samael, the de facto authority on the human side, personally involved, the gatekeepers naturally didn't dare slight Jason. Before long, a second serving of food was delivered to the tent for the fallen prince.
Seeing that Jason had been properly settled, Samael stood to leave. He gave Jason's shoulder a light pat, then placed a bronze token into his palm and spoke evenly.
"Fighting will break out here soon. Take this and head to Athens. It's safer there…"
Jason froze for a moment, his face flushing red with shame.
But by the time he came back to himself, the two figures walking together had already left the tent and disappeared down the road.
The fallen prince sat in silence for a long while. Pressing his lips together, he reached into his pack. One by one, the dried rations he had just stuffed inside were taken out and laid back on the table, placed neatly beside the bronze token.
In the dim tent, Jason stared at the two items, his expression tangled and conflicted.
Outside the camp, Medusa glanced back, puzzled.
"To enter the camp for those with merit and receive this level of treatment, one must also bear the corresponding obligation. That means fighting in the fiercest battles on the front lines as a hero of divine blood. Why leave him a token that lets him leave?"
"Because he isn't suited to be a hero…"
Samael answered with a hint of helplessness. Seeing that Medusa still didn't quite understand, the Ancient Serpent let out a quiet sigh and explained.
"Laziness, cowardice, indulgence in comfort… humans are bound by these flaws. Only those who can break past them when it truly matters can be called warriors. But not everyone has that aptitude or resolve. Whether he's here or not won't change anything. Let him go."
Medusa looked at Samael in silence. After hearing his reasoning, a trace of curiosity crept in.
"I don't know why, but I feel like you're being unusually lenient with him."
"Maybe because I used to be that kind of ordinary person too…"
"How could that be! Samael is obviously the smartest, most reliable, bravest person there is…"
"That's because you all changed me."
Samael raised a hand and gently rested it on Medusa's head. As he spoke softly, his eyes were filled with warmth and a faint smile.
When Medusa snapped out of her daze again, she saw Samael already standing at the intersection ahead, waving her over.
A faint, embarrassed blush spread across the avenger goddess's face. She lowered her head and hurried after him.
After Jason's brief episode, the two of them unconsciously circled past the camp for those with merit and arrived at the edge of the city wall along the third defensive line, where repairs were underway.
Not far away, large quantities of magecraft materials were being carried by hand to damaged sections of the wall. Below, Stheno and Euryale, who had been assigned this relatively easy duty, were leisurely supervising the work. They were even reclining on vine-shaded lounge chairs, lazily sipping crystal dew while several flower nymphs attended to them.
But as the saying went, comfort never lasted. A scattered round of giant war machine bombardment echoed from outside the city. In an instant, a section of wall that had already been on the verge of collapse split apart and gave way, about to bury the overly relaxed Euryale and Stheno alive.