King of Underworld

Chapter 135 The Argonauts – (2)

The Argo Expedition, filled with many heroes, set sail.

Citizens watched closely, discussing who would lead the expedition of around fifty heroes.

Would it be Jason, who gathered them? Or perhaps Meleager?

No, it would have to be the great hero Hercules.

“There might be a fight over who leads.”

“Then Hercules has the best chance of taking command of the Argo.”

However, contrary to the citizens’ expectations, the discussion to decide their captain was resolved quite simply.

These were companions who had survived life and death together in Thebes, or rather, in the Underworld.

They understood each other better than anyone.

“Jason, you should be the captain.”

“I have no objections. This journey is about your path to the throne, isn’t it?”

“As a healer, I think you’re perfect for the role. If anyone’s hurt, they can just come to me.”

“Hercules, what about you?”

“Of course, I think Jason should lead. I’m not one to take center stage.”

Their training in the Underworld hadn’t just been about battling monsters.

They’d also studied philosophy, etiquette, and practiced tactics with one another.

Of course, when the invincible Hercules participated in training, he defeated everyone, but whenever he chose not to join…

“Hahaha! Alright, while you’re on my ship, consider yourselves my people!”

It was Jason’s team that always won, which had led to everyone’s agreement.

* * *

Two days had passed since the Argo left Iolcos.

As night fell, the cold sea wind whipped through the heroes’ clothes.

Each hero found a spot on the Argo and settled in to rest.

As Orpheus played his lyre, filling the air with music, Hercules approached Jason, who was carefully studying a map.

Sensing someone nearby, Jason looked up.

“Hercules? Not resting in Hypnos’s embrace? Have you already become a god, needing no sleep?”

“Becoming a god isn’t as easy as I thought.”

“…That’s obvious, isn’t it?”

Jason looked at Hercules, half-amused, as if he’d expected more from the great hero.

“It’s hard enough just to be a king, let alone a hero or a god. Look at me—I’m on this journey because I’m trying to reclaim the throne my uncle took from me.”

“When you bring back the Golden Fleece and become king of Iolcos, what will you do then?”

“What will I do? I’ll govern the people. Why do you ask? Is it because of your goal to become a god?”

Hercules nodded, looking somewhat somber, his steady gaze fixed on Jason.

“At least you’re sharp about things like this.”

“Hmph! Of course. Listening to the crew’s troubles is part of the captain’s role. But I’m surprised; Greece’s most famous hero is troubled because he doesn’t know how to become a god!”

“…Don’t make fun of me. Give me a serious answer.”

Jason chuckled, giving Hercules a playful slap on the back, then stopped.

“Hmm… how am I supposed to solve your problem?”

“What?!”

“Well, think about it. You’re closer to the gods than anyone on the Argo, yet you’re asking me because you don’t know. How could I know?”

Hercules’s face fell in disappointment, but Jason wasn’t finished.

“Hercules, what does it take to become a hero?”

“…? Obviously, you have to kill monsters or build a reputation with your talents.”

“Then what does it take to become a king?”

“Like you, you have to earn the people’s support through achievements or inherit it through bloodline…”

“Then to become a god, wouldn’t something else entirely be required?”

“…!”

Jason’s casual remark struck Hercules like a revelation.

All his labors so far had been the path of a hero, hadn’t they?

To become a god, he needed to walk the path of a god, but he’d been following the path of a hero.

While his accomplishments and strength would certainly help, the key to becoming a god was to follow a god’s path.

“Divinity exists to maintain the balance of the world. With only the mindset of a hero, no matter how many accomplishments you pile up… you’ll never become a god.”

“You might actually need to spend more time among mortals.”

Hercules’s mind flashed back to the advice of the Lord of the Underworld and the god who summoned the waves.

Simply defeating enemies and accomplishing amazing feats would never make him a god.

“Thank you, Jason. You’ve been a great help.”

“Hmm? So, are you becoming a god now? Oh, divine Hercules! Make me a king, I pray!”

“…Don’t joke.”

The serious mood was blown away like the wind as Jason, grinning, returned to his playful self.

Hercules chatted with him for a while before returning to his cabin.

* * *

The next day, they held an archery contest, shooting at seagulls in flight.

Atalanta, the only female hero on board, won with an impressive display, shooting dozens of arrows in rapid succession.

“Atalanta, your archery is as sharp as ever.”

“Hmph. I am Greece’s greatest archer.”

“But look, there’s an island up ahead. Let’s stop there and resupply!”

They soon arrived at a large island that seemed inhabited, but as the Argo approached, no people could be seen.

“Such a large island, yet it seems deserted?”

“That can’t be… there are houses over there…”

Growing more curious, they ventured deeper into the island, where they witnessed an extraordinary scene.

A beautiful woman with water-colored hair stood before a man who knelt, looking as if he’d been severely beaten.

Around him, others bowed their heads in terror before the woman.

“Will you harm travelers again?”

“N-no, I won’t! I was wrong, Lady Rhode!”

“If I hear of your actions disturbing the sea once more… I’ll send you to the Underworld, regardless of what my father says.”

Jason and the heroes of the Argo were momentarily taken aback, but the woman’s words helped them grasp the situation.

“Are you the heroes seeking the Golden Fleece? This man has soiled the sea’s name, so I punished him. Don’t be concerned.”

“W-wait! Are you a goddess? Who might you be…”

“I am Rhode, legitimate daughter of Lord Poseidon.”

The goddess with water-colored hair vanished in an instant, and the kneeling man slowly rose to his feet, his eyes glazed as he cautiously approached the expedition.

“Do you… need anything? Just say the word.”

“…Why were you being punished by the goddess?”

In response to Jason’s question, the man, introducing himself as King Amycus, looked ashamed.

He explained that he was a demigod, son of Poseidon, who had been assaulting passing travelers, prompting the goddess Rhode to confront him.

With wary looks, the Argonauts gathered supplies from the island and continued on their journey.

* * *

As the Argo sailed on, the heroes arrived at an island ruled by King Phineus.

Due to Zeus’s wrath, he had been blinded, and every time he tried to eat, harpies would swoop in to devour his food, leaving him on the verge of starvation.

“Zetes! Calais! You two can fly—drive away the harpies!”

“Understood, Jason!”

Fortunately, the North Wind god Boreas’s twin sons, Zetes and Calais, were part of the expedition and succeeded in chasing away the harpies.

“In return for driving them away, I’ll warn you of the dangers you’ll face.”

King Phineus shared with them valuable advice, explaining how to pass through the clashing rocks and giving directions that would serve as guideposts.

And so, the journey of Greece’s finest heroes continued.

During a stop on one of the islands, however, Hercules’s servant Hylas mysteriously disappeared.

“Damn it. We have to keep moving, but we’ll return here later to search for Hylas.”

“Are you sure, Hercules?”

“We have no choice. We must bring back the Golden Fleece.”

“I thought… you and that servant were more… intimate…”

Hercules frowned at Telamon, one of the Argonauts, who had asked in a hesitant tone.

Hercules, being from Thebes and a devout follower of Pluto, had a different perspective from other Greeks.

“People from Thebes don’t indulge in such relations.”

“A-ah, right. My apologies.”

The journey of the Argo continued smoothly.

The monsters they encountered were no match for heroes trained in the Underworld, and they had the blessings of various gods.

But there was one who was not pleased by their journey.

A god revered and feared by all heroes—a primordial being, among the highest ranks of divinity.

The Earth pondered.

This was the last chance.

Unless she sent the Gigantes themselves, no monster could kill Hercules.

Neither divine intervention, poison, nor the attacks of Chrysaor and Lamia had worked…

That prophesied hero was surely the gods’ weapon meant to bring her and the Gigantes to ruin.

If she couldn’t kill the great hero Hercules, her defeat was certain.

Cornered, she decided to make a sacrifice.

Despite being the great mother of life, her resentment toward Olympus burned equally strong.