In the center of the hall sat a towering man, over two meters tall, with jet-black hair and golden eyes. Beneath his dark brown skin, muscles twisted like stone cords, and crimson divine markings coiled beneath the surface like sleeping dragons. His entire body looked forged from steel, gleaming faintly under the few rays of sunlight filtering through the skylight.
He held a wine jar in one hand and a bowl in the other, drinking alone while seated cross-legged on the floor. His brows were deeply furrowed, as though burdened by a sorrow that could not fade.
Around him, within a three-meter radius, stretched a silent boundary—a vacuum that none dared to cross. At its center, the man exuded the still power of a lurking beast, a mountain unmoved, a fortress unbroken, a sea vast and churning in its depths. Ether boiled and surged around him, the air tinged with a faint scent of burning.
Sensing that something was amiss with Heracles, no one dared step into the forbidden zone to approach the famed hero of Greece. After all, he had only recently slain his own sons in madness. No one could say whether approaching him now might trigger another fit of frenzy.
"Hey, buddy, drinking alone's no fun. Come on, come on—let's drink together!"
Just as Samael was debating whether to make contact first, Jason swaggered through the crowd, swaying like a crab, a cup in hand. He plopped himself down right in front of Heracles and raised his glass with a grin.
"Aren't you afraid of me?"
Heracles paused, lifting his head to look at the blond man before him—a man he could crush with one hand. His voice was low and calm.
"Afraid? Don't joke with me!
You heroes are always scattered all over the place. Today, thanks to Meleager's name and this fine venue, we finally managed to gather so many of Greece's greats in one place. If I don't share a drink with you all, wouldn't this trip be a waste?"
Jason grinned broadly, giving Heracles a hearty slap on the shoulder. His hand then drifted down, tracing the markings on the hero's skin with an intrigued whistle.
"Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?"
Heracles glanced down at the hand pressing against his chest. His brow knit tighter, his expression darkening.
Jason froze, feeling the killing intent around him grow heavy. His smile stiffened, and he instinctively shrank back like a rooster awaiting the butcher's knife, swallowing hard.
"Before you do... can I make one request?"
"Speak."
"Share this drink with me. Better yet, if you don't mind—get me drunk. That way it won't hurt so much. When I end up in the Underworld, at least I can brag that I once drank with you."
Heracles looked at the golden-haired youth, whose face carried an odd mix of sincerity and longing. He sighed softly and lifted his bowl.
Jason's eyes lit up. He clinked his cup against Heracles's bowl with a cheerful clash and downed his drink in one go. His cheeks flushed with exhilaration, like an addict savoring his fix.
After a few rounds, Jason edged closer again, his gaze sweeping over Heracles from head to toe with starstruck intensity. He started chattering nonstop.
"Hey, bro, that bow—you used it to hunt the Erymanthian boar, right? The one Artemis gave you in exchange for the sacrifice?
And that helmet! You caught the Cretan bull and offered it to Zeus, and he rewarded you with it, didn't he?
That armor—Apollo gave it to you after you cleaned out his cattle pen!
And those gauntlets—Antaeus's, right? The Titan you strangled to death?
Come on, tell me! How'd you haul that big guy up to the sky? I can't wait to hear this. I'll have stories for years when I go home!"
Jason rattled off the names of relics like he was reciting from a collector's catalogue, his tone wildly exaggerated, his face animated as he urged Heracles to speak.
Faced with such a relentless chatterbox, Heracles's mouth twitched. His stern expression almost cracked, and whatever desire he'd had to intimidate the man completely vanished.
At that moment, Jason, as slippery as a snake, leaned even closer—his hands already sneaking toward the great hero's quiver.
"And these arrows in your quiver—the sacred ones Athena gave you to slay the Stymphalian birds, right? Let me feel them!"
"They're coated in the birds' droppings. Deadly poison..."
Heracles, who had held back for so long, couldn't help but frown and warn him.
Jason, who had been holding the arrows close to examine and stroke them—he even sniffed them—instantly paled. He hastily shoved the thing back into his quiver, his heart pounding wildly. The smile he forced still carried traces of lingering fear.
"Brother, you saved my life!"
Then, Jason eagerly picked up the jug and obsequiously filled Heracles's cup to the brim.
"Calydon isn't a place for you. The hunting grounds aren't a springtime picnic. That demon boar could take your life at any moment."
Heracles lifted his bowl, glanced at Jason, and drank it down in one gulp.
"But you lot are here, aren't you? I'm just filling in."
Jason made no pretense about admitting his weakness, then shifted his tone with a bright smile.
"Still, such an epic tale would be wasted without an audience to witness it."
Then, the blond man raised his cup, waving boldly to the heroes around him who were gradually growing more familiar, teasing and egging them on.
"Here's to the strongest man in all of Greece! Wow, I don't know how he built those muscles—so enviable! If I were a woman, I'd marry him!"
"Who says it can't be a man?"
"Exactly! Men can join too!"
"Even non-humans could use him!"
Prince Calydon responded to this audacious upstaging with a smile, cheerfully joining the banter.
Seeing the murderous aura gradually fade from Heracles's brow, the assembled Greek heroes burst into laughter one after another, their lewd jokes growing increasingly outrageous.
"Get lost!"
Heracles's face darkened, but he couldn't help but grin as he cursed under his breath, raising his cup in return. The stagnant atmosphere around him seemed to finally begin circulating.
Soon, the feast grew even more lively. The heroes no longer confined themselves to their seats or social standing, seeking out familiar faces or those they found appealing to chat and drink with.
Peleus and Telamon, two great heroes who had known Heracles, approached with their cups, drinking and chatting freely with the mighty hero.
Peleus gave Heracles a light pat on the chest, his tone calm and earnest.
"Painful trials will forge great deeds. Climb these steps, and you will go further."
Heracles's lips pressed tightly together, his expression growing somber.
Just as the atmosphere grew tense, Telamon burst into laughter, wrapping an arm around the mighty hero with eager eyes.
"Heracles, my brother, my child is about to be born. Once we've captured that beast, why not come to my home? Perhaps you could help name him?"
At this request, the giant's expression softened slightly, and he gave a quiet nod.
Peleus and Telamon then engaged the mighty hero in a discussion about the name, ultimately settling on "Ajax."
At that moment, it seemed Jason's cheerful, grinning figure could be spotted in every tavern, his presence lifting the mood wherever he went.
Moments later, the golden-haired youth made his way over to Samael's table, toasting his way along the way.