Three days later—perhaps thanks to the desperate prayers and worries of the Calydon people—
Meleager awoke completely unharmed. No—his realm had actually advanced even further than before.
His companions could now only faintly sense his mana.
This meant Meleager had set foot on the path of a hero (hērōs)—the pinnacle achievable by any human.
“Meleager… you’ve reached the realm?!”
“Yes. It’s not complete yet, but I’ve glimpsed the path of the hero.”
“Haa… so among us, Meleager has pulled the furthest ahead.”
“But honestly, it makes sense.”
“Yeah.”
“…So more than anything, it’s thanks to that spear, right?”
“Hm. You saw correctly, Theseus. It happened during the process of fully subduing the spear.”
Meleager held up the spear for his companions to see.
Unlike before, it now glowed faintly in the dark like moonlight—transformed into something no one could mistake for an ordinary weapon.
Since this was a rare sight—a divine artifact personally bestowed by a god fully awakened—the heroes paid close attention.
“Wow! With this spear alone, we might even be able to deal with that damned army of my enemy Pelias!”
Among them, Jason showed the most interest.
He was the one among the heroes present who burned with a desire for revenge.
A weapon personally granted by a god was more than enough to ignite his greed.
“Hey, Jason—you’re dreaming. As the next leader of the Lapiths, if I had to evaluate you… you’d probably die the moment you tried to hold it.”
“What?!!”
“Haha, don’t be too hard on Jason, everyone. Sure, his talent might be lacking, but he’s still decent enough, isn’t he?”
“Hm.”
“Theseus, why are you nodding?!”
In an instant the clearing grew noisy with Jason and Caeneus at the center, while the other heroes around Meleager joined in the chaos.
—Well… I can’t say I don’t understand Jason’s feelings.
—True. If you think overcoming the spear’s trial alone is enough to raise your realm…
—Tch. Idiots. There’s no such convenient tool in the world. Meleager only survived and advanced because it was him.
—Yeah…
Meleager shook his head as he looked at his companions—who hadn’t changed at all while he was undergoing the spear’s trial.
Aside from Theseus, he was starting to seriously wonder if these people were really heroes.
He turned to Theseus—the only one staying calm and not joining the commotion—and asked,
“So, Theseus—while I was unconscious, did anything else happen? Fortunately, it seems the divine boar is dead. But the atmosphere here feels… off.”
“Hm. Actually, I was just about to bring that up. A lot happened while you were out.”
…
…
…
After listening to Theseus’s long explanation, Meleager let out a deep sigh.
The situation had grown far more serious than he’d imagined while he was unconscious.
“So… Atalanta is currently trying to win over that mage?”
“Hm… ‘win over’ might not be the right phrase. She’s completely enamored and can’t get enough of him.”
“Enamored?”
“Yeah. Unlike the rest of us, Atalanta grew up among hunters. She’s always fought purely with instinct and experience.”
“Right. She said she never knew her parents and never received systematic training in technique or mana usage.”
“And now that mage is teaching her. I don’t know what his goal is, but he’s even sharing some very rare secret techniques.”
***
While Meleager had awoken and the heroes around him instantly became rowdy,
Far away in a quiet clearing deep in the forest, Poseidon and Atalanta were having a conversation.
“Hm… he should be awake by now, right?”
“Really?! Master?!”
“Yeah. From what I can sense, he’s stepped onto the path of a hero and woken up.”
“Wow… Meleager really is amazing. Like you said, Master—that spear was supposed to be cursed by Lady Artemis.”
“It’s not exactly a curse. The spear simply forces anyone who tries to wield it into battle with the most difficult opponent it can imagine—and only accepts them if they earn its recognition.”
“Isn’t that basically the same thing? Meleager was already at his limit just fighting the divine beast—and then he got dragged into that kind of trial.”
“Atalanta, remember this: gods can impose any unreasonable hardship they want on a hero at any time. Still, for Meleager, it was relatively merciful. At least the rest of you were guarding his back.”
As Atalanta continued receiving instruction from Poseidon in the forest clearing,
“Someone said Atalanta is here…”
Meleager—who had entered the woods to confirm the black-haired hunter and the mysterious mage—froze at the sight before him.
A scene straight out of hell unfolded in front of his eyes.
The ground bubbled and boiled. Around the clearing, hot waves of energy trapped the forest’s spirits, causing them to clash chaotically. The heat had synchronized with the spirits, creating small storms that tore apart trees, rocks, and plants in every direction.
The astonishing part was that, from the outside, it looked like an ordinary clearing—yet the moment one crossed an invisible boundary, the hellish scene opened up, perfectly contained within a defined range.
And what he saw inside were a perfectly unharmed mage… and a female hunter covered in wounds and bleeding, yet smiling brightly.
Faced with this unimaginable sight, Meleager couldn’t take another step.
Though it was still only the beginning, Meleager—who had now stepped onto the path of a hero (hērōs)—could feel the power pooled within the spear far more clearly than before.
And as if unaware of his inner state, Atalanta—who had sensed his presence—spotted him and waved cheerfully with a bright smile.
“Hey! Meleager! You really woke up! We were just talking about you. As expected, Master was right—you’re perfectly fine.”
“…Ahem. Yes, I safely completed the trial. More importantly—what’s this about a ‘Master’? I heard something vague from Theseus, but what exactly happened?”
Atalanta tilted her head, thinking, (‘He heard from Theseus but still doesn’t understand?’) but kindly explained anyway.
He had been unconscious, after all—and unlike the frivolous Jason, this was Meleager.
“So basically…”
***
“So basically, while you were down, that mage who suddenly appeared and suppressed the chaos…”
“Mage!”
“Right—that mage who showed up out of nowhere handled everything. Turns out he’s not just a mage—he’s also a warrior.”
“Yeah. Honestly, the others were too scared of him, so I ended up being the one to talk to him the most. But get this—he really loves gold. So I asked if he’d teach me a few techniques in exchange for converting the entire reward we were supposed to get from your kingdom into gold. And that’s how it happened.”
Meleager listened to Atalanta’s explanation but still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
By the common sense of this world—and of every mana user in it—no one would teach techniques just for gold. Moreover, from what Atalanta described, it didn’t sound like ordinary instruction; the things she was learning seemed to be secret arts.
While he had been battling the spear in his inner world, she had somehow followed right behind him and stepped onto the path of a hero as well.
(‘…In a way, it makes sense. Atalanta was the one who awakened and attuned mana through sheer instinct and experience, without ever being taught proper techniques. If a mage filled in those gaps for her…’)
“So that explains Atalanta’s current realm. But even so—to advance this much in such a short time would normally require secret teachings… and he’s just giving them away for gold?”
Even Meleager muttered to himself, finding the idea absurd.
“Hm? What was that?”
“…No, nothing. I was just thinking how incredibly lucky you are, Atalanta.”
“Right?! I feel the same way. The more I learn from Master, the more fun and powerful I feel!”
“Hm, I see. Then… would you mind introducing me to your Master? Talking among ourselves like this without proper courtesy feels a bit rude.”
Meleager swallowed his bewilderment and politely asked Atalanta to introduce him to the man who had become her teacher in exchange for gold.
The mage might be suspicious, but since he had been in Calydon all this time, Meleager judged that forming a connection with him would benefit the kingdom—especially as its next king.
“Huh?! Was that what you wanted?! I had no idea! Master—this is Meleager. Meleager—this is Master Njord.”
Atalanta hurriedly introduced them, clearly having never considered proper etiquette.
Fortunately, neither Poseidon nor Meleager cared much about such formalities—otherwise, if either had been a noble, this would have caused an uproar.
“Tsk tsk tsk, Atalanta. If you introduce people like that to others, you’re going to get beaten up someday.”
“Eh?!”
Poseidon shook his head at Atalanta, who looked proud as if she’d learned something new today despite her disastrous introduction.
He decided that—once her identity became known later—he would have to send her to Chiron for proper education.
(‘Teaching her noble etiquette, royal protocol, and general knowledge… I’m far too busy for that.’)
“Fine, fine. Meleager, was it? You don’t seem like the type to care much about formalities. Ignore this pure-hearted girl’s introduction—I’ll keep it simple. I’m Njord of the Neptune family.”
“Ah! A pleasure to meet you. I am Meleager, legitimate son and heir of King Oeneus of Calydon.”
Poseidon—ignoring Atalanta’s flustered look—engaged Meleager in light conversation, covering everything from the current situation to casual small talk.
***
The main thing Meleager learned while speaking with the mage before him was this:
The mage was the very one who had helped make Perseus a king.
He had been staying in Calydon for quite some time.
And he was a battle mage—one who had reached an extremely high realm.
(‘The more we talk, the more impressive he becomes. I never imagined there was a battle mage who reached such a level.’)
Just as Meleager marveled—
Battle mages were actually a relatively new concept in the world.
Traditionally, mages stayed in their studies, providing support from the rear.
Unless they reached the level of a grand mage, stepping onto the front lines usually meant almost certain death.
It was the Mycenaean Empire, founded by Perseus, that began to redefine mages’ roles.
When some mages from the former Dawn Mercenary Corps—Perseus’s closest aides—started fighting at the very front, the framework for battle mages was born.
Among them, the most famous was General Zora.
“Battle mage? Zora? I’ve never heard of battle mages. The only Zora I know is that one from the Dawn Mercenary Corps.”
“Yes. If the one you’re referring to is Zora from the Dawn Mercenary Corps, then that’s correct. One of the current Twelve Generals of the Mycenaean Empire.”
“Wow… when did that kid climb to such a position? Back in the day, he used to beg me for even a single spell.”
Meleager quietly nodded along to the mage’s astonished remarks, mentally filing away every detail.
If this mage truly was the legendary Njord from the stories, then every single one of his actions could have a massive impact on Calydon.
(‘The Mycenaean Empire was founded over 150 years ago. Yet even now, many of its founding heroes remain active. At this point, the name Njord carries authority equal to that of King Perseus himself.’)
Meleager glanced over at Atalanta—who had grown bored of their conversation and was now practicing archery nearby—and quietly made up his mind.
(‘In that case… we need to keep Atalanta in Calydon at all costs. With her already learning from a mage straight out of legend, her future potential is already secured. And if even a fraction of that teaching influences or benefits Calydon…’)
After calmly organizing his thoughts, Meleager turned to Atalanta and Njord and spoke.
“Lord Njord, the reason I came looking for Atalanta is to handle the aftermath of the divine boar hunt—dividing the spoils fairly among the heroes. Would it be all right if I borrowed her for a short while? And if you would do me the honor of allowing me to escort you as well, I would be deeply grateful.”
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TL Note:
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