Type-Moon Simulation: Starting with Conquering a Greek Goddess!

[Through countless trials and tribulations, you have finally arrived.]

[The Argo has reached Colchis.]

[King Aeëtes of Colchis, aware that you have come for the Golden Fleece, stands ready with his army.]

[You step forward, holding out an olive branch as a symbol of peace.]

[Seeing the olive branch, the soldiers and Aeëtes lower their weapons. The tension in the air begins to dissipate.]

[Aeëtes grants you an audience.]

[As the soldiers withdraw, you notice a striking young woman standing beside Aeëtes.]

[Her delicate, almond-shaped eyes glimmer with an enchanting blue-violet hue. Her skin is flawless, soft as if untouched by the world. Silky, pale purple hair cascades gently past her cherry blossom-like cheeks, with two pointed ears peeking subtly through her locks.]

[Her gaze meets yours.]

[With your knowledge of mythology and the Moon World, you instantly recognize her—

She is Medea, the princess of Colchis.]

[Despite the strange feeling in your heart, you bury it deep inside.]

[After exchanging greetings with your comrades aboard the Argo, you step into the grand palace of Colchis.]

Inside the palace, Jason presents his request to the king.

"Hahahaha! Young man, the Golden Fleece is the greatest treasure of our land! How could I possibly hand it over so easily?"

Aeëtes, seated upon his throne, laughs heartily.

Yet, as he looks at Jason's unwavering determination, he finds himself in a difficult position.

These Argonauts standing before him—nearly all of them bear divine lineage. They are not men he can simply dismiss or offend.

"Very well. If you wish to claim the Golden Fleece, you must first prove yourselves worthy."

"If achieving greatness is required, then I, Jason, will accomplish anything! Name your challenge!"

[Jason and Aeëtes discuss the trials.]

[As in the myths, Aeëtes presents tasks he believes to be impossible for any hero to complete.]

[Taming two fire-breathing bulls, defeating the soldiers that sprout from the dragon's teeth sown into the field, and finally slaying the dragon that guards the Fleece—these are the three trials set forth by the king.]

[While the king and heroes discuss the trials, you notice Medea's unwavering gaze fixed on you.]

[And at that moment, you understand why you felt that strange sensation earlier.]

"Princess, that great hero holding the olive branch is Moran. Like Heracles, he was trained by the wise centaur Chiron. He possesses the Mystic Eyes of Petrification and unparalleled combat skill..."

"Moran..."

Medea softly whispers his name.

Her gaze flits over to Moran's handsome face, and upon hearing his name, a warm, unfamiliar feeling spreads through her chest.

The words of her attendant become distant, drowned out by the rhythmic beating of her heart.

At that moment, Moran is the only person in her world.

His name—those two simple syllables—sound like the sweetest melody she has ever heard.

[Under her intense, fiery gaze, it is impossible for you not to notice.]

As Moran turns toward Medea, he sees the princess, her face flushed red, quickly looking away in embarrassment.

"Could it be...?"

A realization begins to dawn upon him.

[You recall the myths and your own experiences before setting out with the Argonauts.]

[All clues lead back to that mysterious old man.]

In legend, Hera once disguised herself as an elderly woman and descended to the mortal world. When Jason helped her cross a river, she blessed him in return.

To ensure Jason reclaimed his rightful throne, Hera enlisted the help of Eros, the god of love, who fired an arrow at Medea—causing her to fall in love with Jason.

"So... I was the one blessed by the gods this time?"

Moran remembers his journey with Jason.

Indeed, he had helped an old man cross a river back then. Jason, having lost a shoe, had been a step behind him.

It's said that those involved in fate rarely see it clearly themselves.

Only now does Moran connect the dots.

As he watches Jason discuss the trials with Aeëtes, his expression turns complicated.

But then, he remembers Medea's tragic fate in the original legend.

Jason was never reliable.

How could he let such a lovely girl walk down a doomed path?

If he could change her fate—if he could save her from that tragic end—Moran wouldn't mind taking on that role.

The responsibility of a true gentleman.

Yes, that's all it was. Definitely not because she was beautiful.

With the three Gorgon sisters and Atalanta already entangled with him...

Now, Medea had joined the mix.

[You slowly realize that you are fated to attract romance.]

[But you feel no burden from this fate.]

["At worst, I'll just take responsibility."]

["As they say, life is about the pursuit of happiness. As long as I stay true to myself, there's no problem."]

[You quickly accept your fate as someone destined to attract romance.]

[After confirming the details of the trials with King Aeëtes, the heroes return to the Argo to prepare.]

[On the way, Medea, unable to suppress her emotions, uses magic to evade her attendants and follows you out of the city.]

"Moran... May I... may I call you that?"

Medea clenches her hands nervously.

Her head is lowered like a shy kitten, her cheeks glowing a deep red.

She looks so fragile, as if she might burst into tears if he rejected her.

"You don't need to be so formal. Just call me Moran—everyone on the ship does."

Moran chuckles wryly.

Who would have thought that the infamous "betrayer witch" of legend could be so pure and innocent in her youth?

She's so adorably bashful.

"Call you... M-Moran...? N-no, no, no, no! I can't! I could never! I'd faint on the spot! Just imagining it... Ahhh...!"

Medea shakes her head furiously, as if the thought itself is too overwhelming.

Her teary, pleading eyes are heartbreakingly cute.

This... is too much.

From that moment on, in Moran's personal ranking—

Medea had officially joined the ranks alongside the Gorgon sisters and Atalanta.

[Meanwhile, your fellow Argonauts...]

[They are utterly blinded by the overwhelming display of affection between you and Medea.]

[Only Admetus and his wife, Alcestis, watch the scene unfold with amused smiles.]

"Hmph. Men."

[A sharp, displeased voice breaks the mood.]

[In an instant, you feel a chilling presence.]

[The source of the cold aura is none other than Atalanta, her gaze sharp as an arrow.]

[A mixture of displeasure and scorn flickers in her eyes.]

[And, naturally, her target is—you.]

"Atalanta, I—"

Moran tries to explain.

But Atalanta gives him no chance.

Or rather, at this moment, she is too filled with fury to listen.

This is an unfamiliar feeling.

Why does she feel so restless? So unsettled?