Jason steadied himself, relying on evasive footwork to drain the divine bulls' stamina. When their movements finally slowed and their breathing grew ragged, he gathered his courage and lunged forward, seizing one of the horns and dragging it with all his strength toward the bronze plow yoke.
The divine bulls struggled wildly, snorting streams of molten flame and sparks from their nostrils. Yet the challenger, coated in the ointment, possessed overwhelming strength and was impervious to blades and spears. The two beasts could only watch helplessly as they were hauled to the bronze yoke.
With a smug grin, Jason lashed out, kicking their front legs twice in succession. The divine bulls let out mournful bellows and collapsed to their knees.
Seizing the moment, the challenger who had stolen the spotlight hoisted the bronze yoke and forcefully fitted it onto the two beasts.
He then raised his sword and smacked their hindquarters twice with sharp cracks. Howling in pain, the bulls lowered their heads and bolted forward. The bronze yoke dragged behind them, carving deep furrows into the sacred field.
At the King of Colchis's cold snort, the priests of Ares's temple immediately hurled two chests filled with the dragon's shed, ivory-white poisonous teeth into the field.
Jason's confidence surged. He split the chests open with a decisive slash, steadied the bronze yoke with one hand, and scattered the dragon's teeth with the other. Before long, all four acres of the sacred field had been fully plowed and sown.
Once the bronze yoke restraining them was removed, the two divine bulls, panting heavily and trembling with fear, turned and fled at once, disappearing back into the cavern.
After the sowing was complete, the priests gathered around the sacred field followed tradition, chanting divine words in unison, burning incense, and offering prayers to Ares.
Time passed, and as the sun sank toward the horizon, faint rustling sounds rose from the earth. One after another, humanoid monsters clad in armor and wielding bone blades pushed through the soil. Their bodies were formed entirely of white bone, and within their pitch-black eye sockets, ghostly blue soul flames gathered and ignited.
Having cleared the first trial, Jason quietly edged toward the corner of the sacred field. From inside his clothing, he took out a small black vial tied shut and discreetly swallowed its contents.
They were born.
Dragonfang Soldiers—Spartos.
Most of the Colchis spectators fixed their gaze on the imposing, solemn Dragonfang Soldiers. Bloodthirsty, excited smiles spread across their faces as they eagerly anticipated a brutal sacrifice offered to the gods.
Seeing more than fifty Dragonfang Soldiers standing there, their bodies glowing faintly white and radiating a dense, murderous aura, King Aeetes—who had been grim moments earlier—curled his lips into a cold smile. Satisfaction and cruelty flickered in his eyes.
Hmph. Relying on tricks and borrowed tools. The fact that the divine bulls failed to trample you was sheer luck. But so what?
Boy, you have already angered the gods. The number of Dragonfang Soldiers is twice the usual amount, and they are blessed with a frenzied divine favor. Even I cannot be certain I could deal with all of them.
This time, you're as good as—
Hm? Where did that bastard go?!
King Aeetes swept his gaze across the sacred field, now filled with ranks of Dragonfang Soldiers beneath the setting sun. Jason's absence was immediately obvious, and shock flickered across the king's face.
Crack… crack…
Amid the harsh grinding of bones, the Dragonfang Soldiers awakened one by one. The soul flames in their eye sockets pulsed more violently, and a suffocating, murderous pressure filled the air. Subtle disturbances rippled through the ranks of the skeletal warriors.
"Come out! Why are you hiding?! In the sacred field of the berserker god, he despises cowards!"
Seeing events spiral toward something unpredictable, King Aeetes roared in fury, denouncing the challenger's cowardice.
Bang!
At that very moment, as if in answer to the accusation, a stone rose unnaturally into the air and smashed down hard onto the skull of a Dragonfang Soldier.
Crack!
A shrill, teeth-grating twist echoed from its shinbone. The soul fire in its eyes flared violently, and rage and frenzy burst forth from the hollow sockets of its skull.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The instant the monster turned its head, several stones flew in succession, scattering as they smashed into the skulls of other Dragonfang Soldiers among the furrows.
"Roar!!!"
A shrill, furious howl erupted from the Dragonfang Soldiers as their upper and lower jaws ground together. The four monsters struck by the ambush swung their weapons wildly, hacking toward the direction the stones had come from.
Everything in their path was cut apart, whether grass and soil, rocks and earth, or even fellow Dragonfang Soldiers.
"Roar! Roar!"
The soldiers born from poisonous dragon teeth were provoked into frenzy. Like machines wound tight to their limit, they roared and turned on one another, slaughtering everything they perceived as a threat within their senses.
In an instant, the sacred field was filled with thunderous roars. Sand and stones flew, bone shards scattering everywhere.
This was a sacrifice offered to Ares, the god of frenzied war. Their very purpose was to fight in exalted, fanatical combat, whether against living beings or their own kind.
By the time the battle reached its most intense stage, more than fifty Dragonfang Soldiers had been reduced to fewer than one in ten, each one shattered and incomplete.
"Monsters, die!"
The air twisted in the hazy twilight, revealing Jason's figure. He shrugged off the shield covering him, drew his sword, and charged into the furrows with a spirited shout. With the advantage of having conserved his strength, he swiftly drove the bronze blade into the skull of the last Dragonfang Soldier, grinding out the soul flame within.
"Your Majesty, I subdued the divine bulls in your stead, cultivated the sacred field, sowed the dragon's teeth, and killed every Dragonfang Soldier that sprouted. The first task you set me has been completed."
Jason strode to the edge of the field, set down his sword and shield, and bowed to King Aeetes with pride and elegance.
This… this actually counts?
The people of Colchis, who had been expecting a bloody slaughter, stared at the ground littered with pale bone fragments and at the man who had won through sheer opportunism. Once they snapped back to reality, outrage erupted. Cursing loudly, they hurled the pebbles they had wagered into the sacred field.
The King of Colchis, whose calculations had utterly failed, turned livid.
"You are desecrating this holy battle!"
"How can this be called desecration?"
"What separates humans from beasts is the use of wisdom. Your Majesty, you never said he wasn't allowed to use his brain.
A win is a win. Surely Colchis wouldn't go back on its word, would it?"
Hidden within the crowd, Samael spoke in a bewitching tone, fanning the flames and muddying the waters.
At the same time, some residents who had bet on the outsider's victory purely for amusement began to quietly join in, stirred by their own interests.
Faced with this airtight reasoning, the King of Colchis and many spectators were left speechless. Under countless gazes, they could only pinch their noses and accept the outcome.
In truth, this despicable tactic of hiding, exploiting the Dragonfang Soldiers' nature to make them slaughter one another, and then stepping in to reap the rewards was entirely Samael's handiwork.
The method itself had solid precedent.
As early as the Golden Age, Dragonfang Soldiers already existed, known as Spartos, meaning "those who were sown."
This legend was also tied to Athena.
Once, while searching for his sister Europa, the Phoenician prince Cadmus encountered Ares's poisonous dragon. To protect himself, he killed it and, following Athena's advice, pulled out its teeth and sowed them into the ground.
Warriors sprang forth from the dragon's teeth. After Cadmus cautiously withdrew, they began slaughtering one another. In the end, only five remained. The prince subdued them, and they later helped him build the fortress of Cadmea.
Thus, the Dragonfang Soldiers' instinct to kill each other until only the strongest survived was simply in their nature.
Samael had taken advantage of this trait, combined with Circe's potion, to be absolutely certain that Jason could face this trial alone.
The result was exactly as expected. Everything proceeded smoothly.
That left only the poisonous dragon guarding the sacred grove of Ares.
This trial might be even simpler.
After all, the massive creature watching over the Golden Fleece seemed to be called the Fierce Dragon of Colchis.
...
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