If it hadn't been for your Petrifying Magic Eye,
the situation would surely have become far more perilous.
"Medea, you were the one who stopped the pursuers, weren't you?"
"Th... that's right. I did it."
Medea did not try to bluff her way through it.
She knew she couldn't hide it from Moran, a hero, and this was not something she could casually cover up.
Although Moran had just overused his Magic Eye,
his sense of smell was still sharp.
"No wonder. I was wondering why the pursuers stopped. I couldn't tell at all... Medea, what method did you use?"
Jason was deeply curious about this.
Not just him—so were the other heroes.
Everyone had regarded Medea as a little princess sheltered in an ivory tower throughout the journey. They truly hadn't expected her to stop the pursuers.
Looking at Medea as she pondered,
Moran had no idea what answer she would give.
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"I went to see Aeëtes. He was the commander leading the pursuers, and also my younger brother. I told him that I wanted to follow Lord Moran... After that, I found an opportunity to put him to sleep with magecraft and used a little trick."
Medea spoke very casually.
So lightly that it sounded as though she were discussing afternoon tea.
"The most important thing in an army is its commander, right? Hmm... I created an illusion they couldn't ignore, and that was why the pursuers were unable to advance."
"Um, if you don't mind me asking, Medea, what exactly did you make them see?"
Jason pried like an endlessly curious child.
Moran had already guessed something.
"It was simple. I made them see an illusion of their commander being dismembered into pieces and drifting across the sea. Hehe, nothing could shake an army's morale more than that, could it?"
Medea's words were as innocent as a child's.
Yet the information within them was enough to make one's skin crawl. Even Jason briefly wondered whether he had heard wrong.
Such a bloody and horrible topic
had come from the innocent and romantic Medea.
Everyone present felt an absurd, eerie sensation.
Calling it terrifying would not have been an exaggeration.
"Th-that... I see...!"
"Hm? Mr. Jason, why have you backed away so far? Did I do something wrong?!"
Medea asked with an utterly bewildered expression.
That left everyone even more speechless.
Their estimates had probably been completely wrong.
Beneath that airheaded innocence was a darkness beyond imagination. Medea actually had this kind of hidden, black-bellied side.
Everyone cast pitying looks at Moran.
Being loved by such a little princess with such black-bellied potential
was truly no easy matter.
"Though it was a little off from what I expected, the result was good. Medea, I'm happy that you considered what I told you."
Moran openly praised Medea.
At the very least, she had not done something inhuman like killing her own family.
"Lord Moran..."
Medea's little face reddened.
She lowered her head, somewhat at a loss.
Lord Moran was praising her, wasn't he?
Just thinking about it made her happy.
Before drawing her blade against her own younger brother, she had hesitated. She remembered what Moran had told her before.
Nothing could be gained by making abandonment the premise.
The happiness gained by killing her own younger brother.
Abandoning love for family in exchange for love from a partner.
No, that could never be called love.
Perhaps Medea still did not understand the reasoning behind Moran's words, but she did not want to disappoint him.
Aeëtes's death would have caused her pain.
Medea had the heart of an ordinary person too.
The day Medea truly understood that Moran had been thinking of her, the happiness that truly belonged to her would arrive.
A year passed, and you returned to Iolcus.
Along the way, you encountered hardships as well. You treated them as adventures, and as irreplaceable memories.
The Argo reached its destination.
No feast lasted forever, and the same was true for the Argo Heroes who had created countless legends.
Atalanta also bid you farewell.
"It's over..."
"Atalanta, you can come with us."
"I..."
Atalanta paused without speaking.
It was different from a year ago, when they had first arrived in Colchis.
Medea was now holding Moran intimately.
Not long after boarding the ship,
she began expressing her sincere and passionate love for Moran every day.
Faced with such an adorable and proactive girl,
Moran naturally had no reason to refuse. He could not ignore this airheaded princess.
The two of them naturally fell in love.
Just one step remained before they could transcend being lovers and become a true married couple.
As a witness, Atalanta had watched it all unfold.
That happy scene was something she had never shared with Moran in the past. She could not even bring herself to feel defeated.
Perhaps Medea was the one best suited for Moran.
They would be happier together.
"No, I can't... Medea, you're better suited to be with Moran. I wish the two of you happiness."
Atalanta could not break her Vow of Chastity.
But she also could not ignore these feelings.
"Atalanta..."
Medea did not know what to say.
She hoped Atalanta could be more honest with herself.
But Atalanta was not someone who would break a vow.
It was a question of choosing faith or love.
Medea could not help turning her gaze toward Moran.
She did not mind Moran having women besides herself at his side. Her heavy love held that kind of tolerance.
"I'm going back to Arcadia."
Atalanta turned around.
As though she meant to crush her feelings completely here.
Of course, Moran could not possibly do nothing.
He spoke words containing every feeling in his heart:
"Atalanta, once I've settled everything, I'll go to Arcadia. I don't believe in any gods.
In my eyes, whether it's Medea or you, you are both equally important to me—I love you!"
"..."
Atalanta still did not respond.
She walked toward the outskirts of Iolcus.
Watching her emerald figure gradually disappear,
Medea gently comforted you in your sorrow.
You were not someone who would be defeated by setbacks.
After handling the matter of the Gorgon Sisters, you decided you would find Atalanta and settle this once and for all.
Under the night watched over by the bright, flawless moon,
an elfin figure leaped through the forest, from ancient tree trunks to the cliffs among the mountains.
She ran at top speed the entire way.
One hand pressed against her heaving chest.
Love, love—he said he loved me!
Atalanta looked up at the moonlit sky and vented her emotions.
The feelings she should have abandoned came surging back once more.
Even after spending all this time with him,
her heart still pounded fiercely for him.
The only thing stopping her was that old vow. Before, she had been tangled up over not knowing what to do.
But who could care about all that now?
He really loved me.
What mattered was hearing Moran say those words.
The pessimism that had bound her until just moments ago was swept away, and she immersed herself in this overwhelming joy.
Recalling the sincere tone in which he had spoken those words,
she could not stop a sweet smile from appearing on her face.
Atalanta did not want to simply submit to fate, nor did she want to break the vow she had once made.
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