Chapter 146. Orpheus (3)
“.......”
Anagin was so unusually shocked that he couldn’t say a word.
A practitioner aiming to become a god.......
He didn’t mean to sound conceited, but Anagin hadn’t known there were any practitioners like that besides himself.
For one, his master had said there were hardly any practitioners who sought to become a god, and in fact, among all the practitioners Anagin had met so far, none had that goal.
So seeing one right in front of him, all he could feel was astonishment.
“A god...?”
“Why are you all so surprised?”
The New Argonaut Expedition Trio, who had been just as shocked beside him, flinched at Anagin’s question and protested.
“We didn’t know either.”
“Aren’t you acquainted?”
Anagin asked back. They seemed to be talking rather familiarly, so he thought they were at least acquaintances.
Orpheus stepped in to clarify.
“It’s true that I know them, but that doesn’t mean they knew I was aiming to become a god. It’s not exactly a secret, but it’s not something I go around telling people, either.......”
Ah, he roughly understood what that meant.
Well, there’s no real reason to go around announcing it.
Anagin accepted the explanation, but that didn’t lessen his surprise.
A practitioner with the same goal as him... it was quite fascinating.
And it seemed Orpheus felt the same way.
“To think you’re a practitioner who shares my goal of becoming a god, I wanted to see your face at least once.”
“Now that you’ve seen me, what do you think?”
“It’s quite intriguing. There aren’t many practitioners who aim to become gods, after all.”
Not many—meaning not none at all.
Anagin briefly considered asking who else sought to become a god.
If he investigated them, perhaps he could learn how to become one.
However, the moment he was about to speak, Anagin realized he had overlooked something.
That was the method of practice.
Tacheon—receiving a god’s blessing.
Yeokcheon—stealing a god’s blessing.
Jacheon—reaching the heavens through one’s own power.
As a member of the Argonaut Expedition Team, there was no way Orpheus would follow Yeokcheon, and as someone already blessed, it was unlikely he would pursue Jacheon. Naturally, that meant his method was Tacheon.
At that realization, the slight excitement in Anagin’s heart cooled.
Even if the goal was the same, would it really help if the paths were different?
No—perhaps even the goals themselves differed. Broadly similar, maybe, but different in the details.
After all, Anagin’s goal wasn’t simply to become ‘a god.’
Lost in those thoughts, Anagin missed his chance to ask, and instead, Orpheus spoke.
“May I ask why you seek to become a god? Seeing someone who shares my goal has made me curious.”
“Tell me your reason first, and I’ll tell you mine. I’m a bit shy.”
Smack.
The New Argonaut Expedition Trio, who had been listening from the side, smacked their own faces.
They were signaling that he was being rude.
But to Anagin, they were just overreacting.
After all, the one who asked the question should give their reason first, shouldn’t they?
Besides, Anagin didn’t really understand why the trio was acting so meek in the first place. Not that he cared to.
“You’re as interesting as I’ve heard.”
“I am pretty interesting. So, your answer?”
He spoke as if to say that if Orpheus didn’t answer, neither would he.
Orpheus smiled faintly.
“I wish to repay the god who granted me my talent.”
“Music?”
“Indeed.”
Orpheus explained.
He possessed extraordinary musical talent, and thanks to that, he had been able to join the Argonaut Expedition Team and receive honors far beyond what he deserved.
“So, to repay that, I seek to become a god. To return the grace I received from the Great Twelve Gods.”
“Oooh.......”
The New Argonaut Expedition Trio let out quiet exclamations.
Practitioners were said to be those who accumulated merit, but in the end, that merit was usually for their own desires—to become something greater.
In fact, these days, more than half of practitioners were practically fakes.
Only a minority truly sought to accumulate genuine merit; the rest merely imitated practitioners to gain the power called ‘blessing.’
In such a vulgar age, Orpheus’s goal was noble and deeply moving.
Anyone who heard it would be brought to tears.
Ah, except for one person—Anagin.
Even after hearing it, Anagin felt none of that.
Because.......
‘He’s lying.’
There was undoubtedly a powerful force in Orpheus’s words.
Persuasiveness was part of it. Even so, Anagin didn’t believe him.
The reason was simply too absurd.
Of course, there were plenty of unhinged practitioners, so perhaps that absurd reason might actually be true.
Even so, Anagin didn’t believe it.
That mellow voice sounded just a little hollow.
It was nothing more than a gut feeling with no real basis, but Anagin trusted his instincts.
So he concluded that Orpheus was lying.
“Now, may I hear your reason?”
Anagin didn’t hesitate.
Whether he should lie as well, since the other had lied—
There was no need to worry about that.
Because it wasn’t something he needed to hide.
Anagin spoke his reason for wanting to become a god without hesitation.
“I went through some pretty messed-up shit.”
* * *
Some pretty messed-up shit.
For a reason to want to become a god, it was a truly shitty one.
There was no need for a long explanation—just looking at the expressions of the New Argonaut Expedition Trio made that clear.
However, Anagin was serious, and if asked in detail, he was willing to explain.
But perhaps because it was so absurd, Orpheus only laughed and said it was unexpected, without asking further.
After that, nothing much happened.
Whether he was actually disappointed by Anagin’s answer or not, they simply finished their meal and parted ways.
He showed neither displeasure nor joy, maintaining the same attitude as before.
Ah, though before leaving, he did tell the New Argonaut Expedition Trio the location of the inn where he was staying.
“......If anything happens, come find me here. If it’s something I can help with, I will.”
“Thank you.”
Led by Tramachus, Thyreos, and Lynceus thanked him in turn.
For reference, Anagin didn’t say any thanks.
Partly because of his lack of manners, but also because he was busy ordering takeout.
“Takeout order here.”
The food tasted good, so Anagin packed some to go, and only exchanged a brief farewell when Orpheus left.
“Hey.”
Once the guest had gone, Tramachus called out to Anagin and let out the complaints he had been holding in, scolding him for being so rude.
Anagin responded simply.
“Don’t get it twisted. If we’d just met as your guests, that’d be one thing—but he came to see me. I don’t have to accommodate him.”
It wasn’t wrong.
Orpheus and the New Argonaut Expedition Team were merely acquaintances, perhaps like seniors and juniors, so they could afford to be polite.
But Anagin was different.
Orpheus had wanted to meet him as a fellow practitioner and asked about his reason for becoming one. So Anagin had simply responded as a practitioner in kind.
Expecting him to behave like them was, in a way, the rude demand.
Realizing that, Tramachus and the others of the New Argonaut Expedition Team once again felt the gap between themselves and Anagin.
When everyone had frozen before Erysichthon, Anagin alone had charged forward.
Even alone at Chiron Tower, Anagin had stepped up boldly.
He had challenged Meleager the Immortal without hesitation.
And in the Kingdom of Arcadia, he had been the key figure in stopping Hippomenes’s scheme.
Achievements that were impossible to believe for someone who hadn’t even been a practitioner for a year.
They had been too entangled with him to truly feel it before, but now they did.
Anagin was on a different level from them.
While they were the New Argonaut Expedition Team, born with the help of the Great Master Chiron.
“By the way, is he really that amazing?”
Just as their thoughts were deepening, Anagin suddenly asked.
He was asking whether Orpheus, whom they had just met, was really that remarkable.
At first, it sounded like he was picking a fight, but fortunately, the New Argonaut members now knew better.
Though it was still an absurd question.
“Of course. Lord Orpheus played an incredible role in the Argonaut Expedition.”
“What kind of role?”
“He sang to lull the dragon guarding the Golden Fleece to sleep, silenced the Sirens—the reapers of the sea—and even calmed a raging storm.”
Even after hearing the answer, Anagin couldn’t help but frown.
It was beyond what he had imagined—calming a storm with song.
Of course, there were parts he didn’t understand.
For example, the Golden Fleece.
Anagin considered asking what that was, but decided against it. It felt like the explanation would drag on forever, and they’d probably ramble about things he didn’t care to know.
Just calling it a feeling wasn’t enough—their eyes when they spoke to Orpheus came to mind.
An irrational excitement where emotion overtook reason. Eyes as if they were bewitched by something.
Anagin didn’t want to hear explanations from people with eyes like that. More often than not, the information wouldn’t be reliable.
So he decided to ask someone else.
Someone knowledgeable in that area, yet more reasonable.
“You said you had something to ask?”
Anagin decided to call Sanchonius aside and ask him instead.
* * *
Because of the chance encounter with Orpheus, Sanchonius returned to the inn first.
It wasn’t that he felt no regret.
He, too, had wanted the honor of sharing a meal and conversation with a hero.
But Sanchonius restrained that desire.
An attendant was someone who controlled their own wants and supported heroes from behind.
If someone like him, lacking ability, could assist even in this small way, that itself was an honor.
So when Anagin returned and brought him food from the restaurant they had left, Sanchonius felt a kind of gratitude he couldn’t quite put into words.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“Brother, what about mine?”
Sphinx cut in. Anagin handed over the takeout he had brought.
"I wanted to forget to buy yours, but I accidentally ended up buying it. Sorry."
“I’ll accept your apology.”
And so, Sanchonius and Sphinx enjoyed the food Anagin had brought.
The taste was good, but more than that, it felt like he was having the meal with Orpheus that he hadn’t been able to share, which made it even more meaningful.
After finishing the meal, just as Sanchonius was about to thank Anagin again, Anagin spoke.
“Don’t thank me. It’s not free. I’ve got something to ask.”
“You have something to ask?”
“Yeah.”
At first, Sanchonius was a little nervous.
What kind of question was important enough to warrant buying food just to ask it?
He would’ve answered most things if simply asked—so could it be something like the secret of Chiron Tower?
But as if to mock that worry, the question that came out of Anagin’s mouth was extremely ordinary.
Something he could’ve found out himself with a bit of research.
“You want me to tell you about the Argonaut Expedition Team?”
“Yeah. Not the New Argonaut Expedition Team, but the Original Argonaut Expedition Team.”
Calling it the ‘original’ Argonaut Expedition Team made the New Argonaut Expedition Team sound like a knockoff, but Sanchonius understood the point.
He didn’t ask why Anagin was suddenly curious.
After all, he had met Orpheus—it wasn’t strange that he’d become interested.
‘Sir Anagin does seem oddly weak when it comes to general knowledge… well.......’
Anyway, judging it to be nothing serious, Sanchonius began explaining.
“The Argonaut Expedition Team is, as the name suggests, a group that boarded the ship, Argo. Lord Meleager the Immortal, Lady Atalanta, and Lord Orpheus the Musician were all aboard.”
“How many people were on it?”
“About fifty. And every single one of them could be called a hero without exaggeration.”
Fifty practitioners called heroes.......
What in the world had made them board that ship?
“To obtain the Golden Fleece. It’s a treasure located in a Barbaroi kingdom called Colchis.”
So the Argonaut Expedition Team was essentially a group formed to obtain the Golden Fleece.
“Wait, wait... so you’re saying the Argonaut Expedition Team was basically a band of pirates formed to loot the Golden Fleece?”
Anagin felt as if the back of his head had been struck.
Fifty heroes gathering just to invade another country and steal a treasure....... Well, maybe that did happen?
His master had said that so-called heroes often did things unbefitting of heroes.
Kidnapping, looting, murder, arson, forced marriages—things like that.
Of course, Anagin had no intention of judging. He wasn’t exactly someone who could claim moral superiority himself.
Still, if they had any conscience, maybe they should refrain from calling themselves heroes.
“No! Sir Anagin!”
Hearing the question, Sanchonius was horrified and protested.
“The Kingdom of Colchis was ruled by the barbarian Barbaroi, and the king at the time was a tyrant. He even used his own daughter as a tool.”
Anagin wondered what a tyrant king had to do with looting the Golden Fleece.
Of course, he didn’t say it out loud.
Judging by how worked up Sanchonius was, it would only drag the conversation out unnecessarily.
It annoyed him a little, but Anagin chose to let it go. After all, he was the one who had asked.
‘I should’ve asked Sphinx. That was a mistake.’
“...More importantly, the Golden Fleece originally belonged to us Hellenes. According to legend, the gods defeated a giant who raised a golden ram, flayed its fleece, and gave it to humanity.”
The explanation was more detailed than expected, and Anagin found himself slightly interested.
It felt like listening to a story he had heard as a child.
“So how did it end up in the Barbaroi kingdom?”
“Because of two thieves named Phrixus and Helle. They were originally a prince and princess, but after earning their father’s hatred, they stole the Golden Fleece in a fit of anger and ran away.”
Anagin thought it sounded like quite the ridiculous family.
Just how badly did things have to go for someone to steal a treasure and run away from home?
In any case, Anagin felt like he understood the gist of it.
What the Argonaut Expedition Team was, and what it originated from.
Still, he wondered whether retrieving—no, looting—the Golden Fleece was really that impressive.
As if reading his thoughts, Sanchonius spoke.
“The Golden Fleece is a great treasure. It doesn’t belong to any one person, it is a treasure of all Hellas.”
“Because the gods gave it?”
“That’s part of it, but more importantly, the Golden Fleece is a treasure that brings prosperity. It drives away misfortune and brings good fortune....... It’s an object that can influence fate.”
“Fate....”
Anagin rolled the word around in his mouth.
Personally, it wasn’t a word he liked very much.
And the explanation left a bad taste.
Driving away misfortune and bringing good fortune.
Usually, that meant someone else received that misfortune, and someone else lost that good fortune.
Trash didn’t just disappear, and treasures didn’t simply fall from the sky.
But Anagin didn’t bother voicing that thought.
It was just his personal opinion, and not something he cared enough about to argue.
More than anything, Sanchonius would probably go on another long rebuttal.
“You... seem to really like stories about heroes, huh?”
Anagin said it in passing, without any particular intent—just stating what he felt.
From what he had seen, Sanchonius seemed to admire heroes quite a lot. Enough to sacrifice himself if necessary.
Sanchonius didn’t deny it.
“Ah, yes... I do like heroes. That’s also why I became an attendant. I was helped by one when I was young.”
It was a common story.
He had encountered villains while traveling, and a passing hero had saved him.
Sanchonius said that memory became his compass, leading him to dream of becoming a practitioner.
“Then why an attendant? Don’t people usually dream of becoming heroes?”
Caught off guard, Sanchonius hesitated.
“I used to want to become a hero. But I gave up.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized I couldn’t become one. I’m not a Gigant, nor am I blessed....... Pathetic, isn’t it?”
Anagin looked at him quietly.
It felt like he was seeing the bottom of Sanchonius’s heart, the one who always smiled and faithfully followed orders.
He had been one of those people whose thoughts were hard to read, but now, Anagin felt like he understood him a little.
“Not really.”
“Haha, thank you for comforting me.”
“I wasn’t comforting you. Do I look like the comforting type?”
Realizing that he didn’t, Sanchonius fell silent.
“Personally, I think it’s a waste, but your dream is bigger than mine, so I can’t laugh at it. Gotta give credit where it’s due.”
Sanchonius tilted his head.
It sounded somewhat absurd, but hearing someone who aimed to become a god say that his dream was bigger felt strange.
“Ah, did I mention it? My original dream was just to live comfortably in my hometown and die there.”
“Is that... so?”
Sanchonius asked, genuinely surprised.
Having seen Anagin’s achievements up close, it was hard to believe.
Nothing Anagin had done matched such a modest dream.
“Wanting to become a god....... That came after some pretty messed-up shit happened. It’s more like venting.”
Wanting to become a god as a way of venting.
Even hearing it, Sanchonius couldn’t understand.
It was too foreign to comprehend—more so than the idea of becoming a god itself.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
The question slipped out before Sanchonius could stop himself.
He usually thought things through before speaking to practitioners, but for some reason, he kept making these mistakes around Anagin.
“I-I’m sorry. It’s just so different from your original dream—”
“You don’t have to be sorry. It is a bit scary.”
Sanchonius looked at Anagin, trying to gauge whether he was serious.
It didn’t seem like a lie.
He wanted to ask—how did he endure the fear that came with chasing such a massive goal?
But when the moment came, he couldn’t bring himself to speak.
That was when, as if reading his thoughts, Anagin spoke first.
“But I think it’s better than living my whole life like a coward.”
Anagin said it while recalling his powerless past.
Himself, praying while his younger sister was dying.
Rather than living his whole life with that memory—
He thought this was better.
Running toward a goal that might not even exist, no matter what stood in his way.
* * *
After his conversation with Sanchonius, nothing in particular changed.
The Oracle remained in seclusion, and practitioners kept pouring in to receive blessings, making the Festival Village even more chaotic.
It got to the point where even the massive village couldn’t contain everyone, and people began setting up tents on the outskirts.
Because of that, there were times when it felt suffocating, but there wasn’t really anything Anagin could do, so he simply endured.
He often felt the urge to leave, but since he had come all this way, he intended to enter the Temple of Delphi out of sheer stubbornness if nothing else.
Thus, one day, two days, three days passed.
He no longer needed a guide and had visited most places in the Festival Village.
It was certainly an interesting place.
Especially the gambling dens.
“A pair! It’s a pair! A pair—!!”
“This is rigged, right?! Those are loaded dice!”
“Then check them yourself! But what if they’re not fake? What then?!!”
But even that was starting to lose its appeal when someone came looking for him.
A fat old man dressed in expensive clothes, adorned with jewelry, and reeking of perfume.
They were priests of the Temple of Delphi.
“The Oracle has granted you permission to visit.”
At last, they had been allowed to enter the Temple of Delphi.