The Fated Playboy Begs for Flowers! Begs for Favorites!
You endured countless hardships along the way.
At last, the Argo arrived in Colchis.
Aetes, king of Colchis, knew you had come for the Golden Fleece, his nation's treasure. He led his army to stand ready against you.
You took the lead in presenting an olive branch, symbolizing peace.
At the sight of the olive branch, the soldiers and Aetes lowered their weapons, and much of the tension between you dissipated.
Aetes granted you an audience.
As the soldiers withdrew, you noticed a graceful young maiden standing beside Aetes.
Her slender, delicate eyes complemented those captivating blue-violet pupils. Her flawless skin was utterly mesmerizing, while her long, silky pale-purple hair flowed down along her cherry-blossom cheeks. A pair of distinctive pointed ears peeked quietly through her hair.
She met your gaze as well.
With your knowledge of the myths and intelligence from the Type-Moon world, you knew who she was—
She was Medea, princess of Colchis.
Though you felt something strange, you buried that feeling deep inside.
After exchanging greetings with your companions from the Argo, you entered the royal palace of Colchis together.
Once inside the palace, Jason made his request to the king.
"Ha ha ha ha! Young man, the Golden Fleece is the priceless treasure passed down by our kingdom. How could I hand it over to you so easily?"
Aetes laughed from his throne.
Seeing Jason's unwillingness to back down, he actually found the matter quite troublesome.
The Argo Heroes before him.
Nearly all of them possessed divine blood. They were not people he could casually dismiss or provoke.
"How about this? It isn't impossible for me to hand over the Golden Fleece, but you must prove yourselves worthy of possessing it."
"If it means achieving my grand ambitions, there is nothing I, Jason, cannot do! Name your terms!"
Jason and Aetes began discussing the trials.
Just as in the myths, Aetes proposed tasks he believed the heroes could never complete in order to keep the Golden Fleece.
Tame two rampaging Fire-breathing Bulls, defeat the soldiers that sprouted from the fields after Dragon's Teeth were sown, and finally slay the Evil Dragon dwelling in the forest. The king demanded that the heroes fulfill all three conditions.
As the king and the heroes discussed the trials, you noticed Princess Medea beside the throne staring intently at you.
You understood why you had felt that strange sensation.
"Princess, that great hero carrying the olive branch is named Moran. Like Heracles, he studied under the sage Chiron. He possesses Petrifying Magic Eyes and Peerless Martial Arts..."
"Moran..."
Medea's rosy lips parted slightly.
Her gaze kept drifting toward Moran as she took in his handsome face. At the sound of those two syllables, her heart softened uncontrollably.
She could no longer hear a single word from her attendant.
Only one person remained in her world.
She felt that the two notes forming that name were the most beautiful melody in the world.
Under such a fiery gaze,
It was impossible for Moran not to notice.
Yet when he turned toward Medea, he saw the delicate princess blush crimson and hurriedly hide away.
"Could it be..."
Moran began recalling something.
You thought of the Greek myths you remembered, together with your experiences before the Argo set sail.
Your suspicions returned to that unknown old woman.
In the myths, Hera had descended to inspect the world disguised as an old woman, and Jason helped the disguised Hera cross a river.
Thus, he earned the goddess's favor.
Hera decided to help Jason reclaim his throne.
Her chosen method was to have Eros, the son of the god of love, fire an arrow.
So that the princess of Colchis would fall in love with Jason.
"So I was the one blessed by the gods?"
Moran recalled accompanying Jason back to his homeland.
He really had helped an old woman cross a river back then. Jason had been one step too slow because he had lost a shoe.
Those caught up in the situation could not see clearly; onlookers saw everything.
As the person involved, Moran had not thought of the myth immediately. Only afterward did he realize it when he looked back on it.
He looked at Jason, who was speaking with Aetes.
Moran's expression became rather subtle.
But when he thought of Medea's eventual tragedy in the original story, he felt that perhaps this was not so bad.
Jason was completely unreliable.
How could he allow such a cute girl to embark upon the irreversible road of fate?
If he could change a young girl's tragic destiny, Moran was more than willing to reluctantly become that sinner.
That was the resolve a true gentleman ought to possess.
Yes, it definitely was not because he lusted after her beauty.
The three women from The Invisible Island, plus Atalanta.
And now, he had Medea on his shoulders too.
You gradually began to realize that you were fated for romance.
But you did not find it burdensome.
"At worst, I'll just take responsibility.
As the saying goes, people live to pursue happiness. As long as I don't betray my heart, there's nothing wrong with it."
You quickly adjusted your mindset.
And accepted your destiny as a fated playboy.
After confirming the details of the trials with King Aetes, the heroes decided to return to the Argo and prepare.
Along the way, Medea could no longer suppress her feelings. She used magecraft to deceive her attendants and followed you out of the city.
"Lord Moran... I-Is it all right if I call you that!?"
Medea clenched her hands tightly, her expression flustered.
She lowered her little head like a foxtail grass stalk, an exceptionally enticing blush staining her cheeks.
Looking at this delicate, watery girl,
It seemed as though she would burst into tears on the spot in front of everyone if he refused her.
"Actually, you don't have to be so formal. Just call me Moran. Everyone on the ship calls me that."
Moran could not help showing a helpless smile.
Who could have imagined that Medea, praised in the myths as the Traitor Witch, had been so innocent and pure in her youth?
She became this bashful and flustered just from meeting someone.
Yet Moran found it especially adorable.
"Calling L-Lord Moran by name... N-No, no, no, no, I can't! How could I possibly do that!? I can't do it! I'd definitely faint! Just imagining it... Waaaah..."
Medea desperately shook her little head.
She looked completely incapable of doing it no matter what.
Her tearful eyes were utterly pitiful and lovable.
This... was too adorable, wasn't it?
From then on, in Moran's heart,
Medea successfully squeezed into the same tier as the Gorgon Sisters and Atalanta.
Along the way, the heroes traveling with them
Were blasted right in the face by the lovey-dovey display between you and Medea.
Only Admetus and his wife Alcestis watched the two with indulgent smiles.
"Hmph, men."
An incongruous snort rang out.
In an instant, you felt a piercing chill.
The chill came from Atalanta. Her cold gaze was as sharp as arrows.
Displeasure and contempt were mixed within it.
The person targeted by that gaze was naturally you.
"Ata, um..."
Moran still wanted to say something.
But Atalanta gave him no chance at all.
Or perhaps she was simply too enraged to listen, finding everything before her unbearably irritating.
This was a feeling she had never experienced before.
Why was she so restless and uneasy?
P.S.: One extra chapter for every thousand flowers, one extra chapter for every five hundred recommendation votes, and one extra chapter for every fifteen monthly tickets.
Please support me, dear readers. Extra chapters are cumulative. This author believes there are enough of you to bury me alive with requests. Smiling in the face of death.
A Classic Scene: Shuraba! Begs for Flowers! Begs for Monthly Tickets!
Seeing Medea standing so close to Moran, it was as though a fierce flame were blazing within her heart.
As if it were crying out that she did not want to see this.
Though she did not want to see Moran anywhere in her sight, she still wanted to hear him call her name.
Bitterness. Her heart felt bitter.
"Lord Moran... Could it be... did I mess something up...?"
Medea wore an anxious expression.
Seeing innocent and naive Medea like this,
"Don't overthink it.
I'll talk to Atalanta... She isn't usually like this... The problem lies with me..."
Moran could only give a pained, helpless smile.
He had actually encountered that classic problem.
"Ah, this is that thing, right? The classic scene that only men fated for romance encounter—Shuraba!
Heh heh, I get it~ I get it~!"
Jason said, stroking his chin and nodding.
Before you continue