King of Underworld-Chapter 137: The Argonaut Expedition (4)

The Argonaut Expedition - (4)

The heroes of the Argo were taken aback by the unexpected scene before them. They had anticipated fierce battles or cunning schemes to obtain Colchis's prized Golden Fleece... but a city engulfed in flames with people fleeing?

What would happen to the Golden Fleece in such chaos? No—shouldn’t they be rescuing the people here first?

Jason, frowning, grabbed the arm of a fleeing woman, whose face, streaked with soot, twisted in terror when she saw Jason and the other heroes behind him.

“Eek...!”

“We don’t mean any harm. We’ve just arrived in Colchis by ship. What’s happening here?”

“T-That... just run! A monster, there’s a monster...”

“A monster? We’re heroes who slay monsters. Perhaps we could help you...”

“The p-princess is over there! Let me go!”

“...Princess?”

Jason released the dazed woman, mulling over her final words. Was the princess of Colchis nearby and in need of assistance?

“A monster? Just what kind of beast are we dealing with?”

“Let’s go to where that woman indicated.”

“Yes. We should get an explanation, so let’s...”

“Help! My dad is trapped under the house...”

“Jason, go on ahead!”

“Hurry and join us, Heracles!”

Preparing their weapons, the heroes noticed people trapped around them—an elderly man coughing as he struggled to escape his burning home, children crying in front of a collapsed building...

Heracles and several other heroes broke away to rescue the civilians. Asclepius rummaged through his bag for medicinal herbs, while Orpheus abandoned his lyre to help move the injured.

KRAAAAAA—!!!

“Aaargh!”

“Please! Someone help us!”

The thick, black smoke and swirling ash made it hard to believe this was once the prosperous city of Colchis. From somewhere, they could hear the horrifying sounds of screams, crashing, and soldiers shouting and groaning in fear.

Tack-tack-tack.

The heroes of the Argo hurried toward the location where the princess was reportedly situated, hoping to uncover the cause of this disaster. Soon enough, they found it.

A towering monster loomed over the soldiers, crushing them with overwhelming strength and unleashing torrents of fire. Its immense body, adorned with scales as brilliant and red as the treasures of Pluto, and its fiery breath made it appear otherworldly.

A dragon.

A dragon, like the legendary Ismenian Dragon slain by King Cadmus after reclaiming Zeus’s tendons from Typhon...

FWOOOOOSH!!!

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“Ahhh!”

“Stand your ground! The citizens of Colchis are behind us!”

“Everyone, raise your shields! Princess, now is your chance!”

From the dragon’s mouth, scorching flames erupted, consuming everything in its path. It seemed ready to devour all at once...

“Haa... Ha... Ένας τοίχος από νερό που τους περιβάλλει όλους!!!”

A richly dressed woman, surrounded by soldiers in the rear, uttered strange words, and a massive torrent of water surged up from the ground to block the flames.

Ssssssss—!!

As the flames and water collided, thick steam filled the air, momentarily halting the dragon’s fiery assault.

It was around this moment that Jason and the other heroes reached her.

“We are heroes from all over Greece, come to Colchis! You seem to be a powerful sorceress—could you explain the situation...”

“Watch your tone! You’re speaking to Princess Medea of Colchis!”

The woman, identified as Princess Medea, quickly assessed the heroes with her gaze. Her eyes briefly flashed with a hint of blue as she addressed the soldier who had stopped them.

“Wait! Let them approach!”

Jason and the other heroes got a closer look at Princess Medea. She was strikingly beautiful with brown hair, yet none of them harbored any untoward intentions toward her.

KRAAAAA—!!!

“Hold your formation! If we falter... Ugh!”

“Damn beast!”

“Watch out for its claws! They slice through armor with ease!”

In a battlefield where a mythical beast ran rampant, only a fool would let his mind wander to a woman.

With an urgent expression, Princess Medea spoke quickly, her face drenched in sweat, with blood trickling from her nose.

“You’re not from Colchis, are you? If you assist us, I swear by the goddess Hecate that you will be rewarded!”

“Of course we’ll help! Nestor, you take command for now! I need to hear from Her Highness!”

“Meleager, aim for its eyes or mouth with your spear! Atalanta, you too!”

“Zetes, let’s take to the skies and distract it from above!”

“Is there anyone else here who can use magic?”

“Someone get Heracles!”

As Nestor took temporary command from Jason, he and the heroes fought the dragon. Meanwhile, Jason approached Princess Medea to ask her about the situation.

“Princess, I know time is short, but please explain why that dragon is destroying the city. Is it divine punishment or something we should not have disturbed...?”

“No, it’s not that. That dragon was meant to guard Colchis’s treasure, the Golden Fleece. It was supposed to be an unyielding, sleepless guardian.”

A sleepless dragon guarding the Golden Fleece? Then why was it now rampaging through the city?

“I’m not sure how it happened, but the dragon has devoured the Golden Fleece. I confirmed it with my magic—it's inside its stomach.”

“What... how is that possible?”

“And the dragon is not in its right mind. It’s consumed by madness, destroying everything.”

“Madness...? But the dragon’s willpower should far exceed that of any human...”

FWOOOOSH!!!

“...προστατεύω!”

“Gah!”

In the midst of their conversation, the dragon unleashed another surge of fire upon the heroes, but Medea’s body shone as she conjured a translucent shield to protect her soldiers.

Though she appeared utterly exhausted, her magic was unlike anything Jason had seen before. It was fitting to call her the greatest witch of Greece.

Without her magic, that dreadful beast would have razed Colchis in an instant.

After blocking yet another attack, Medea stumbled, likely from overexerting herself, clutching her head as dizziness overtook her. Jason quickly supported her and spoke up.

“I understand the situation now! We’ll help you slay that dragon!”

Heracles arrived after rescuing civilians from the rubble. The first thing he saw was Atalanta’s arrow bouncing off the dragon’s scales.

Thwip—Ting!

“This doesn’t make sense! Its scales can’t be that tough!”

“Damn... what’s with its strength?”

“Nothing’s hurting it! Curse it! Some sort of blessing?”

The heroes attacked in turns, but the red dragon was formidable. Its flames rivaled the fires of Hephaestus, and its sheer size meant even its lightest movements could kill soldiers.

Meanwhile, the soldiers and civilians posed obstacles. Even attacks they could avoid had to be intercepted by shields, and blows they might deflect had to be blocked with thoughts of those behind them.

Meleager’s spears and Atalanta’s arrows struck fiercely, but the dragon only growled, surveying its surroundings as if searching for something.

“Jason! I’m a bit late because of all the trapped people! So, we just need to kill that dragon, right?!”

“Yes! According to Her Highness, it’s devoured the Golden Fleece, Heracles!”

Heracles gripped his iron club, locking eyes with the dragon.

KRAAAAA—!!!

At that moment, the dragon let out a fierce roar and stomped its foot, shaking the earth and causing nearby buildings to collapse.

That wasn’t just a simple stomp. This was something...

The dragon charged forward, sending the heroes flying like ragdolls. Shield-bearing soldiers were swiftly reduced to bloodied fragments, flames mingling with spurts of crimson in the air. Medea’s protective barrier shattered, and she collapsed, blood trickling from her nose.

“Gah! Such strength, all of a sudden...”

“Raise your shields! We mustn’t let it reach the princess!”

“Ampion! Erginos! Get out of the way!”

“Damn it... Butes is down! Did that beast hold back its strength until now...?!”

The dragon’s red eyes glared menacingly in their direction as its claws swiped through the air.

Clang!

Heracles’ iron club met the dragon’s claws with a fierce spark, finally allowing him a close look into its eyes—blood-red pupils filled with hatred, not warmth but madness.

‘Is it after me?’

Whoosh—Clang!

Once again, Heracles intercepted a powerful swipe of the dragon’s claws with his club, the force of the impact reverberating through his body. An ordinary hero would have been torn apart in a single blow.

The sleepless dragon seemed focused on him, ignoring everything else in its path to kill him. Even Medea’s magic and the heroes’ spears and blades could not shift its gaze.

Why? No matter how strong this beast was, it was still a monster.

Clang! Whoosh—!!

Blocking another strike, Heracles rolled to evade the flames. He felt a strange familiarity, something beyond his encounters with the Hydra or the Nemean lion... something akin to his fights against deities like Triton or Megaera.

He couldn’t gauge the exact strength of the Ismenian Dragon, son of the War God, but he doubted it could rival this red dragon. He had long surpassed King Cadmus, after all.

Thud!

“H-How did he withstand that?”

“Who... who is that?”

For some reason, Heracles could sense the gazes fixed on him.

In the eyes of those around him, he saw awe for the hero who was holding back the dragon’s assault single-handedly. Relief, anticipation, hope, and pleas for deliverance filled their expressions.

In the slow-motion of that moment, words from his recent memories surfaced in Heracles’ mind.

“...Simply achieving feats will never make one a god...”

“You need to engage with humanity.”

“To become a god, wouldn’t something different be required than what you’ve pursued thus far?”

A soldier looked at him in awe. Princess Medea, her eyes gleaming as she chanted her spell, watched him intently. Heroes who had once viewed him with jealousy and admiration now shouted encouragement at him, and refugees, in shock, pointed at him...

When he had rescued people from the rubble, what had they said to him?

He remembered them clasping their hands, saying...

“Thank you, my god.”

Humans seek gods. Gods answer their prayers.

Each time he heard their earnest prayers, he felt something... strange.

In the aftermath of the dragon’s charge, which seemed to have unleashed its full power, the formation was completely broken, and Jason, thrown to the ground by the clash between Heracles and the dragon, braced himself for death.

No one could intervene in the confrontation, and even the shockwaves of their battle felt like a massive storm.

Then, in that moment, Jason heard a voice.

“Jason.”

“Heracles, is that you? How can you be speaking to me from there...?”

“Maybe this sounds crazy, but can you... pray to me?”

Despite the casual tone as if it were a simple conversation, the request struck him as strange.

A prayer? Heracles was always talking about becoming a god. Had he truly come to believe that himself...?

“...Of course!”

Yet, Jason was willing to respond to Heracles’ request. Was it ambition guiding him, the intuition of one who sought the throne? Or simply faith in a friend?

With his hands clasped together, his earnest desire became a prayer.

Humans seek gods. Gods answer their prayers.