Chapter 95: Wanting to Board the Argo, Landing at the Finish Line
Atalanta was, of course, completely serious.
She knew very well how strong the man before her was.
One of the three "kings" of Uruk.
The equal of Lord Enkidu.
An existence comparable to a main god.
That was precisely why the humiliation could not be left alone.
The crime of making Lord Enkidu wait a thousand years…
She had to make him pay for that.
"So if you want to fight, just fight already. Can you stop talking?"
On the shore, Rowe raised his hand and stared helplessly at Atalanta, who currently had her teeth sunk into his arm and refused to let go no matter how much he shook her.
The forest girl, whose long hair resembled Enkidu's yet lacked that pure, verdant sheen and instead carried a faint yellowish tint, said nothing. She only bit down harder.
If they really fought, it would be over in a heartbeat.
The difference between them had already been made clear.
Even if Rowe stood still, Atalanta could not inflict so much as a scratch on him.
She understood this better than anyone. That was why, from beginning to end, she had never truly thought of defeating him.
She just wanted to annoy him. To harass him.
"Wah… woo…"
A muffled whimper, like a small beast protesting, leaked out between her grinding teeth.
Rowe glanced aside and took in the scene.
Her slightly raised hips.
Her slim waist unconsciously tensed.
The beast like ears peeking out from her long, flowing hair.
…Beast ears?
As a Greek hero whose legend was passed down through the ages, Atalanta was, naturally, a demigod.
In Greece, it was almost rare to find anyone with a name in myth who did not have divine blood.
The gods walked among men, and the gods indulged themselves with all things. From that chaos came innumerable demigods and monsters. A certain self propelled, humanoid artillery king of the gods was the most infamous among them.
Demigods possessed traits that set them apart from humans.
Heracles had his sculpted, inhuman physique.
And this "cat" in front of him…
Those ears left little room for doubt.
"If you don't let go, don't blame me for being impolite," Rowe warned, sounding more tired than angry.
"Woo woo wah wah!"
If you have the guts, then kill me! Lord Enkidu will never forgive you!
This time, she did not invoke Artemis, but Enkidu.
Atalanta was not stupid.
Rowe had no intention of killing her, of course. She was, after all, someone Enkidu had helped raise.
"Eh…?"
A moment later, Atalanta shuddered violently, a startled sound slipping from her throat.
Rowe's fingers had brushed her ear.
He lightly stroked the soft fur at the tip.
An unfamiliar sensation raced through her, making her entire body lose strength.
Because she was a demigod with beastlike traits, her senses were extremely sharp. And precisely because of that, those ears were her absolute weak point.
Her clenched teeth trembled, her lightly trained but not overly muscular body twisting against her will. The color drained from her cheeks, then flushed back in a rush. In the next instant, she collapsed into Rowe's chest.
Her curved hips bumped against his thigh, swaying under her skirt.
Rowe was just about to pull his hand back and quietly leave.
"Ah ha, it seems I returned at a rather… delicate time. I did not expect the Sage of Uruk to be so romantic."
A teasing voice sounded in his ear.
Hermes floated in midair, looking every bit the spectator at a play.
"Do not mind me. Continue, please, continue…"
Atalanta snapped fully awake.
Admittedly, in that instant, their position really was very suggestive.
She sprang upright at once.
As for Rowe… he simply curled his fingers into a fist in silence.
"I said I do not mind. I actually have business. I will be going no— Wait, don't grab me! You promised to hit me more gently this time!"
No one had expected the freshly granted concession to be redeemed so quickly.
…
A little while later.
The waves rose and fell along the shore, the sun warming the soft sand. Atalanta looked at Hermes, the messenger of the gods, who now sported a spectacular collection of bruises and swelling.
Then she turned her gaze toward Rowe, who was calmly dusting off his hands.
Atalanta ground her teeth again.
Humiliation.
She had been humiliated in front of a god again.
That hateful Sage.
The princess of Arcadia flushed to the tips of her ears.
"Er… I think one beating is enough, yes?" Hermes raised both hands in surrender, entirely devoid of the dignity expected of a god closest to the main gods. "I just happened to pass by. I only just arrived. I did not see anything you two were doing before."
He really should have kept his mouth shut.
Of course, even if he had stayed quiet, there was no way Rowe would fail to notice his presence.
And Hermes was a born mischief maker. Applauding other people's misfortune in situations like this was practically a reflex.
"So. You left, then came back. What do you actually want?" Rowe asked, arching a brow.
"I came to bring you a message."
Hermes straightened a little.
"Did you not say you wanted to become a hero?"
"Recently, a young man named Jason has begun gathering heroes to sail across the great sea in search of the legendary Golden Fleece, the symbol of wealth and adventure."
"If you participate, you will surely become a great hero praised through the ages."
His tone carried a hint of flattery.
Seeing Rowe fall silent in thought, Hermes seized the chance to slip away again.
If you interrupted someone's "good deed," staying any longer was just asking to be hit twice.
Rowe was indeed thinking.
Jason. The Golden Fleece.
He did not need to think long to know what was coming.
The voyage of the Argo.
The grand adventure sung in later eras, where every single hero aboard that ship would be recorded in legend.
Could he really stay out of something like that?
A smile tugged at his lips.
He had already stepped into the sight of the gods, but that still was not enough.
The supreme among the three great rulers had yet to truly focus on him.
His journey to seek "death" had only just begun.
"Are you going back, or…?" he asked, glancing at Atalanta.
"I… I will not let you off that easily!" Atalanta's face reddened again.
"Then suit yourself," Rowe replied bluntly.
In any case, if things followed their proper course, Atalanta would be involved in that adventure as well.
"What do you mean, 'suit yourself'?" Atalanta suddenly exploded again. "Do not make it sound like I am stalking you!"
"Aren't you?"
"Of course not!"
"Then suit yourself. Whether you are or not."
"…!"
…
Young Jason gathered many heroes onto that ship of legends.
Under the blessings of the gods, the Argo cut through the waves of the open sea, carrying the vows of those who sought to carve a great adventure into the world.
Jason, Heracles, Cronus, and many others whose names would echo through the ages all boarded that heroic vessel.
But when they finally overcame all obstacles and neared their goal, they discovered something unexpected.
Someone had already reached the destination ahead of them.
"The Tale of the Argonauts."
…
Half a day earlier.
Having once more boarded a ship and crossed the Aegean Sea, Rowe stared silently at the land before him.
"Where is this?" Atalanta asked. She stood on a reef, bow in hand, gazing at the palace rising from the coastline.
"This is the kingdom of Colchis, on the Caucasus," Rowe replied dully. "The place where the Golden Fleece lies."
He turned toward the sea and, without hesitation, raised his middle finger at a certain "Sea King" who had shot him across the waters like an arrow.
He had wanted to ride the Argo.
Not spawn directly at the boss room.
Under the surface of the Aegean, seaweed swayed and a faint light flickered.
A beautiful figure with long, deep blue hair, gender difficult to determine at a glance, opened azure eyes and saw Rowe's gesture at once.
The Sage's gesture.
Was this… his way of expressing respect toward her?
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