Chapter 101: Jason Is Scolded into a Stupor
Strictly speaking, Atalanta was not wrong.
The reason Rowe stayed in Colchis after refusing Medea's confession, aside from helping the commoners, was very simple.
He was waiting for those people to arrive.
"Boring. You can go alone, I do not want to see that kind of person."
Just recalling the rumors she had heard from Rowe recently was enough to make disgust appear in Atalanta's eyes.
"I will wait for you here."
"Suit yourself." Rowe smiled. "The kid has grown up. You cannot follow me everywhere forever."
Atalanta's answer was very straightforward.
She opened her mouth and bit him.
...
On that very day, the Argo, after a journey full of twists and turns, finally reached its destination.
The fifty man galley dropped anchor along the coast of Colchis.
Golden sand rolled with pale foam as the waves surged and withdrew.
"Ah, we finally arrived!"
At the bow, a blond youth raised his head toward the distant city state and let out a delighted shout.
"Hoist the sails, set sail!"
"We are already here. What are you still hoisting sails for?"
Someone who had already jumped ashore and was standing on the beach could not resist mocking him.
"What do you know?" The blond man turned and shouted back. "What I am raising is the sail of the spirit."
"Golden Fleece, here I come!"
"Jason has gone crazy again," someone below muttered.
"Forget it, leave him be."
"It is said Colchis is a very powerful country."
"I wonder how much treasure, wine, and how many beauties they have. The women from that island before tasted really good. I definitely have to go back and savor them on the return trip."
"I am really looking forward to it."
"And once I get the Golden Fleece, I am definitely going back to brag about it."
They laughed loudly, faces full of unrestrained excitement.
To them, the land ahead was not a city state of considerable size, but more like an orchard waiting for them to pluck at will.
Among these noisy men, however, there was one who always remained silent.
No matter how the others shouted and jostled, they kept a subtle distance from him, as if afraid to anger him by accident.
He was a young man with a stern, handsome face, towering height, and muscles like carved stone.
He stood alone at the edge of the group, gaze deep, eyes calm and unreadable.
Heracles.
Son of Zeus. The strongest warrior aboard the Argo, a man who possessed the power to battle monstrous beasts on par with gods. It was not an exaggeration to say that the Argo had been able to cross the sea only because he remained on board.
However, his noble and aloof bearing clashed entirely with the vulgar cheer of the other "heroes."
That was why they feared him.
Jason was not among the fearful.
The frivolous blond youth at the bow withdrew his gaze from the city and happened to notice Heracles's solitary figure.
He was stunned for a moment, then his face brightened and he bent his knees, ready to jump down and talk to him.
But at that moment, the tall youth suddenly raised his head.
As if sensing something, Heracles turned towards the shoreline.
"Hmm?"
A low sound left his throat.
Jason also froze.
He unconsciously followed Heracles's gaze.
"Who is that?"
Among the cluster of "heroes," someone voiced the question that appeared in all of their minds.
They stared toward the forest at the edge of the beach, confused.
A lone figure emerged from the trees and walked slowly toward the shore.
"Did he hear of our great name and come to welcome us?"
"I knew it. We are already famous across the seas. The heroes of the Argo."
"Hey, kid, hurry up and lead us to your king. Then hand over the Golden Fleece, all the treasures, and all the women."
The laughter grew louder and more shameless.
The man who stepped out of the forest simply smiled at them.
Then he spoke, voice calm.
"So you are the so called heroes?"
The sea breeze blew against his gray and white robe.
The black haired, black eyed man, who looked like nothing more than a handsome young traveler, stood there as if the sand itself had grown a spine.
Rowe, who had been waiting for the heroes of the Argo for some time, watched them in silence.
"That is right. That is us."
The men from the Argo puffed themselves up even more.
But what greeted them was not a grand welcome, nor jeweled hospitality, nor beauties lining up in submission.
It was laughter.
Cold, unrestrained laughter.
"AHAHAHHAHAH. So these are the so called heroes? What a disgusting sight. Maggots flocking to the smell of rot. You dare call yourselves heroes?"
In that instant, the "Gilgamesh mode" of Rowe surfaced again.
The deck fell silent.
"You bastard…"
"How dare you provoke us, after we crossed the seas and braved countless dangers?"
"Damn it, we have to make him see our strength."
They shouted, one after another.
Yet not one of them took the first step.
These demigod "heroes" were arrogant, but not idiots.
The one who stood before them was insolent to the extreme, but there was something about him that pressed against the instincts of those who knew battle.
Better to let someone else test him. Better to stay in the back and wait to collect the reward.
Their hesitation only invited more contempt.
"What, none of you dare to come forward, you maggots that smell rot?"
Rowe's gaze was as sharp as a hawk cutting through the sky.
"With that level of courage, you dare call yourselves heroes?"
"The country I arrived in has, during this time, purged oppression. Famine has vanished. People can finally live without being trampled by disasters and monsters."
"And the islands you passed through on your way here, how many did you ruin? How much wealth did you plunder? How many people did you bully?"
They themselves could not count.
Rowe could.
During the half month he remained in Colchis, he had thoroughly investigated the Argo's voyage by various means.
The more he learned, the fouler his mood had become.
As his words continued, the faces of the men from the Argo twisted.
In Rowe's narration, they were no different from the monsters they claimed to slay.
The only distinction was that the monsters stayed in one place, while they moved from island to island.
The harm was the same.
And every line he spoke was fact.
There was nothing they could refute.
That was why he mocked them without restraint.
For those who acted wantonly, he acted even more wantonly.
They wanted to move, to answer insult with violence, but only now did many of them notice.
Their bodies would not move.
Under the divine protection of "Unjust War Shall Be Far From You," no attack could be launched.
Because Rowe stood on the side of justice.
Because their actions were unjust.
Because that was precisely what he wanted: to scold them and, if needed, beat them, without granting them even the right to struggle.
"H… hey, listen."
Jason finally could not hold back.
He jumped down from the bow and swaggered up to Rowe.
"Is that not enough, sir? Everything we did was for the sake of the local people…"
"For your mother's head."
"?"
Jason's mind stalled.
He had come to mediate, had he not? Why had he suddenly been cursed?
"I said…"
"You said my ass." Rowe finally dropped all pretense and spoke in his own tone. "For the local people? Why do I not see them coming to thank you?"
"After you 'save' people, you rob them of everything they own. Then you say they offered it willingly in gratitude."
"Disgusting."
"I…"
"You still dare to talk? You still have the face to talk?"
Rowe stepped forward half a step, words like blows.
"Who do you think you are? You think just because you spout 'hero in a desperate plight' a few times, you really become a hero of desperation?"
"Fine. There is a desperate plight in front of you right now. Do you have the guts to try it?"
Jason fell completely silent.
The other heroes were also speechless.
What on earth is this man even talking about?
At that moment, a figure moved.
Someone stepped out from behind the crowd, walking past the frozen heroes until he stood face to face with Rowe.
Hope sparked in the eyes of the Argo's crew.
Because that man was Heracles.
Their strongest. The god born hero whose fists could tear through monstrous beasts.
If it was him, perhaps he could handle this arrogant stranger.
That hope died quickly.
The usually silent Heracles opened his mouth and calmly spoke a line that shattered their expectations.
"I finally get to see you again, Mr. Rowe."
"You are still the same, I see."
Rowe laughed.
"Heracles, it has been a while. You really have grown."
"Mr. Rowe, it has been a while for you as well."
Heracles smiled politely, like a disciplined student greeting his teacher.
Just as Rowe himself had said, all those vicious words were merely tools used when facing an enemy.
They were not the essence of who he was.
There were times to be unrestrained.
And times to show respect.
Jason and the others were left staring in utter confusion.
They knew each other?
Then why had he just finished cursing all of us?
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