"You're awake? Co have sothing to eat."
Hearing the faint movent inside the wagon, Atalanta lifted the curtain and called out to him.
"Mm. I really am a bit hungry."
Samael rubbed his growling stomach and obediently followed the tough huntress to sit by the fire.
Atalanta pulled a spear from the spit and handed him a portion of the roasted at she had prepared.
Having grown up surviving in the wild, doing everything for herself, her skill at roasting at was naturally exceptional.
The small Magical Beast—rabbit-like in size—crackled as its fat lted, releasing a mouthwatering aroma. Its golden skin was crisp, the inside tender and juicy, seasoned with herbs and sea salt.
And then there was Orpheus, the genius bard brimming with artistic talent. Whenever the mood struck, he would lift his lyre and play a tune to lift everyone's spirits.
Ancient epics rich with cadence flowed from his voice, charged with divine resonance that vibrated through the air. It pulled the listeners into another world, while the gentle pulse of divine power soothed tired muscles and eased the mind like the softest massage.
Even the sharp-tongued Healer God and the proud, bad-tempered Caenis found themselves in unexpectedly good moods, tapping their knuckles to the rhythm while they ate and drank.
Artemis, Atalanta, Circe, and Heracles were long since absorbed, listening with bright, appreciative eyes.
In such a peaceful, warm atmosphere, Samael enjoyed the al to the fullest.
After dinner, Caenis and Circe took first watch. Hearing that it was ti to sleep, Artemis imdiately dragged the little bear plush that kept trying to escape her arms and slipped into the tent, cheeks flushed with excitent.
"Coming, coming! Darling, you're just as adorable tonight!"
"Don't co near ! Can't I have one day of rest?!"
"Honestly, darling, are you cheating on ?"
"Ab-so-lu-te-ly not!"
"Aha! I knew my dear would never betray . I'll love you forever!"
"Stop using the word 'forever.' It's… weirdly scary."
Creak… creak…
"Pause! Yaaah! Don't choke ! My neck—my neck—it's going to snap—snap—!!"
Under the flickering lamplight, the silhouettes of two troublemakers—one large, one small—chased and tangled inside the tent, their laughter and cries twisting together in chaotic harmony.
Judging by the completely calm expressions of Asclepius and Orpheus—Apollo's two sons—it was obvious the nephews had no idea that the sickly woman inside the tent calling herself "Diana" was actually their aunt, Artemis.
With companions like these, the Argonauts' journey would certainly never be boring.
Samael swept his gaze over the camp, gently swirling the wine in his cup. He clinked glasses with Heracles, a faint smile rising to his lips—a quiet, unexpected delight at setting out on an adventure with friends.
But in the next heartbeat, the lightness faded. His eyes grew thoughtful, solemn.
This Argonaut expedition was fundantally different from the last two events.
To Samael, both the Calydonian Hunt and the Arcadian race had been diversions—gas to liven up the journey.
With overwhelming power at his command, he could break or rewrite the rules at will.
So whether it was blending into the Calydon hunting party or letting Hippolyta unexpectedly take first place in the race, it never truly mattered. He had absolute confidence—dozens of strategies—to steer the outco however he wished.
Those little surprises were simply pleasant seasoning.
But now, the Argonauts hadn't even officially assembled, and the expedition already involved two Main Gods—himself and Artemis. It touched on Zeus's deepest secrets and could influence the divine hierarchy of Greece as a whole.
Along the road ahead, they were certain to et opponents of equal rank and power.
So, for safety's sake, he needed to rein in his playful attitude and approach things with greater care.
Night deepened. The campfire guttered softly. One by one, people retreated into their tents to rest for the next day's journey.
Samael, who had been about to lie down as well, stood—and spotted Atalanta sitting alone on the slope behind a tree, staring at the silver moon in a daze.
He walked over quietly and sat down beside her.
"What are you thinking about?"
"I keep wondering… what kind of children the Amazons will have in the future."
The huntress glanced toward the endless mountains, lowered her gaze, and let out a faint sigh.
"Don't worry. With Areopagus watching over them, if Hippolyta truly wants to change the Amazons' way of life, she'll treat every newborn well. She's a smart woman."
Samael gently took Atalanta's hand, warming her fingers against the night breeze, his voice soft and reassuring.
Then, sensing the subtle emotional ripple stirred by their surroundings, he tried probing a bit.
"Where are we?"
"The mountain borders of Arcadia. This is… the place where my father—no, where King Iasus abandoned ."
Atalanta cast a brief glance toward the Arcadian capital hidden in the night. Her tone was calm, her eyes no longer burdened by resentnt or longing.
That quiet, unguarded ease when speaking of such a wound made it clear she had truly let go of the pain.
"Right. Co with ."
After a few monts of casual chat, Atalanta looked around as if rembering sothing. She stood abruptly, grabbed Samael without warning, and bounded deep into the forest.
They arrived at a small valley lush with flowers and grass, the air filled with the sound of running water. Atalanta leapt onto a nearby boulder, cupped her hands around her mouth, took a deep breath, and let out a sharp, echoing call.
"Rrr-ow!"
The fierce yet endearingly cute howl made Samael's expression twitch despite himself.
A cold, predatory glare shot his way, and the Ancient Serpent instantly shrank his neck, covering his mouth. But he still couldn't stop his face from contorting.
Luckily, the awkward mont didn't last long. A low, heavy roar answered from deep within the valley.
Atalanta's expression lit up. She let out a series of low growls—short and long, rising and falling—calling back and forth until their voices moved closer and closer.
Rustle…
A few breaths later, accompanied by the brushing of leaves, a female brown bear—about two ters tall, walking upright like a person, her fur warm brown and plush like an enormous stuffed toy—erged from the darkness.
Atalanta rushed forward like a fledgling bird returning to the nest, burying her face in the soft warmth of the bear's chest, a look of pure contentnt filling her eyes.
This must be the sacred beast Artemis entrusted with raising Atalanta.
After all, Orion—now a teddy-bear plush—was still in Artemis's arms. Clearly, the huntress goddess had always had a fondness for fluffy things.
"You. Co here! My foster mother wants to et you!"
Snapping Samael from his wandering thoughts, Atalanta turned and beckoned with a light hum.
He stepped forward. The mother bear raised a paw capable of shattering stone and uprooting trees, yet she gently patted Samael's head, her eyes full of warmth and human-like intelligence.
Atalanta held her foster mother's paw, whispering softly like a child saying goodbye before a long journey.
"Mother, I have to travel far again. Take good care of yourself here."
"Woo…"
"You're worried? There's nothing to worry about—I'm not so easy to injure!"
"Don't worry. I'll protect our big sister too…"
Samael laid his hand over the bear's paw as he spoke, solemn in his promise.
The mother bear nodded with satisfaction, then placed Atalanta's and Samael's hands together.
After a lingering embrace, she gave several low parting growls before finally turning away, disappearing slowly into the forested darkness.
With her foster mother gone, the last haze of uncertainty in Atalanta's heart seed to lt away. Her steps were light and almost playful on the way back, a warm, content smile curving her lips—only fading when they neared the camp, where she tried to tuck her emotions away.
But so things, born in the heart and shown in one's actions, can't be hidden.
Under the dancing firelight, Samael's gaze lowered toward their joined hands. A teasing smile tugged at his lips.
Those two hands had been intertwined all the way back—and neither had noticed.
...
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