Sharp arrows shot forth from the pitch-black, ornate greatbow.
The powerful draw of the bowstring imparted an incredible initial velocity to the arrows, their keen tips slicing through the air, unleashing a piercing whistle of wind.
Under the force of the raging gale, the arrows that cleaved the sky reached the enemy in mere moments, plunging into the target's brain like chopsticks into tofu.
The arrows that pierced the brain stirred up a tempest, instantly turning the target's mind into a mushy pulp.
"The last one."
Watching the Dragon Tooth Soldier struck by the arrow collapse, Atalanta lowered her "Bow of the Heavens."
Relying on her agile movements and kiting tactics, Atalanta had flawlessly slaughtered the final forty-four Dragon Tooth Soldiers without a single scratch on herself.
Whether intentional or not, this was the second time Atalanta had served as the final striker, concluding the trials of Colchis.
Though this didn't mean the Argonauts' success in passing the trials was solely her achievement, it proved that Atalanta was indeed a remarkably powerful hero.
At least among the Argonauts, no one dared to mock her for being a woman anymore, for every one of them had to admit that without Atalanta, they might have lost several more lives in each trial.
In their eyes, Atalanta was first and foremost a powerhouse, and only secondarily a woman.
And Atalanta herself?
Having accomplished the feat of consecutively slaying forty-four Dragon Tooth Soldiers, this wildcat-like girl treated it as if it were just another routine task.
She sauntered back to Alaric's side with the leisurely grace of a cat, then gazed at him with eyes full of anticipation.
It was just like...
An obedient kitten seeking praise from its master.
"Well done."
Alaric smiled warmly and gently stroked the girl's golden-green hair.
"Of course. There's no opponent that these arrows can't handle."
The girl's response was full of tsundere pride, as if she couldn't care less about the compliment.
But from the way her eyes happily narrowed, it was clear that deep down, she was utterly delighted by Alaric's praise and head pat.
She truly had the personality of a cat.
Perhaps because yesterday's sacrifices had already accustomed the Argonauts to such outcomes.
After announcing the victory of the second trial, they felt neither joy nor sorrow.
The Argonauts' reactions now bordered on... numbness.
Yes, numbness.
Even when Aeetes approached to declare that they had passed the trial and could proceed to the sacred grove to claim the Golden Fleece, they showed no overly excited response.
Such a reaction could hardly be called normal.
After all, to pass this trial, they had sacrificed far too much.
Originally, due to offending the Amazon warriors, the Argonauts had dwindled from over fifty to just over thirty.
That loss had dealt them a devastating blow.
If not for the gods' subtle encouragement and aid, they might have turned back to Greece right then, ending the journey.
But now, in Colchis, they had suffered another heavy blow.
The thirty-odd Argonauts were now reduced to just over twenty.
This number was less than half of their original departing force.
In other words, for the goal of the Golden Fleece, more than half of them had perished in foreign lands.
Moreover, the remaining twenty or so heroes had no idea if they could even obtain the Golden Fleece or if they could all return home safely.
Because they all knew that the true test for obtaining the Golden Fleece hadn't even begun.
In the sacred grove of Colchis, a colossal dragon guarded the Golden Fleece day and night without sleep. To claim it, they first had to deal with the dragon.
Although Alaric had assured them that Medea had fallen in love with him and sided with the Argonauts, promising to hold off the dragon for them tomorrow.
But no one dared to guarantee against accidents.
After all.
That was a dragon.
If anything went wrong on Medea's end, then seizing the Golden Fleece from the dragon's clutches would inevitably lead to significant sacrifices among them.
Jason even pessimistically wondered if the number of Argonauts who could ultimately return home would even reach double digits.
The terror of a dragon was incomparable to mere "divine bulls" or "Dragon Tooth Soldiers."
Now, Jason was filled with boundless regret.
He regretted not fully understanding the situation before rallying people and organizing this Argonaut expedition.
If he had known that the Argonaut journey would provoke a magic goddess and the Mystra Academy, entities he had never even heard of before, he absolutely wouldn't have done it.
Now, he fully understood that both the "divine bulls" of the first trial and the "Dragon Tooth Soldiers" of the second were actually the work of the Mystra Academy and the goddess Hecate.
Though the king of Colchis was a son of the gods, weren't there plenty of kingdoms in Greece ruled by divine offspring?
The Kingdom of Colchis, in terms of strength and foundation, was at most on par with the various kingdoms in Greece.
If it were just the Kingdom of Colchis alone, it could never produce such powerful trump cards as the "divine bulls" and "Dragon Tooth Soldiers" to test these elite heroes from all of Greece.
However, realizing all this now was too late.
Originally, he had felt that they shouldn't continue like this, that he shouldn't let his companions keep sacrificing themselves for his ambitions.
But everything could no longer be stopped by his will alone.
For this cause, over thirty Argonauts had already fallen. If the survivors couldn't achieve their shared goal, then all those previous sacrifices would be in vain, wouldn't they?
And those fallen heroes would become nothing more than a joke.
So, honoring the legacy of the fallen, they had to see this path through to the end.
At this moment, Jason's heart was consumed by endless guilt.
He couldn't quite understand why he, why they, the Argonauts, had ended up in this situation today.
Was it because of his own ambition?
Was it because of the gods' oracles?
Was it because of overreaching themselves?
In the end, Jason blamed it all on the whims of fate.
It was fickle fate that had him born as the son of Aeson, King of Thessaly, only for Pelias to usurp Aeson's throne.
It was fickle fate that let him learn a full array of arts like music, chess, calligraphy, and painting from the "hero's mentor" Chiron, yet robbed him of other more vital talents.
It was fickle fate that granted him the glory of summoning fifty Argonauts with a single call, yet led him to lose soldiers and generals along the way, culminating in this tragic state where more than half his companions were gone.
Yes, that's what he believed.
For now, Jason was merely lamenting the fickleness of fate and its cruel games with him.
Everything was fate's fault.
But soon, he wouldn't think that way anymore.
.
.
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