"Jason, remember—there aren't that many chances in this world for heroes to save damsels in distress."
"And the more beautiful a woman is in Greece, the more trouble she brings. You never know when your head will turn bright green with jealousy."
"So whenever you encounter such situations, get yourself out as fast as possible!"
"Jason, remember—there aren't that many opportunities in this world to play the righteous hero."
"You can barely take care of yourself right now, so don't go making things more complicated. The world won't stop spinning just because it's missing one more 'hero.'"
"Jason, remember—divine blessings and favor are things only the 'protagonist' can truly enjoy."
"Just because you're a transmigrator doesn't mean you're invincible in this world!"
"Life is long, and in this dangerous land filled with scummy gods and rampant monsters, who knows when you might suddenly drop dead?"
"So when you're out there, keep your head down. Don't cause trouble, don't get involved, don't poke your nose into other people's business. If you can avoid it, avoid it. If you can run, run."
"Because staying alive is the most important thing!"
"Mm... Perfect!"
Jason silently recited his self-made "code of conduct" as he rode a fine horse, holding a map, making his way toward the Caucasus Mountains.
As dusk settled, he hid in the shadows, observing a merchant caravan in the distance, seemingly under attack by bandits.
Without hesitation, Jason tugged at the reins, urging his horse to turn and leave this place of trouble.
But who would have thought? The usually obedient warhorse—personally chosen by Chiron—suddenly ignored its master's command.
With a loud neigh, the horse charged straight toward the bandit ambush!
"Whoa, whoa, stop! Horse bro, stop right now!"
Jason, utterly dumbfounded by this betrayal, found himself rushing straight into the fray.
"Uh…"
Seated on his horse, Jason awkwardly scratched his head, looking at the bandits' faces full of scars and brute-like features, who were now staring at him in confusion.
"So, uh... can you all pretend you didn't see me?" he asked weakly.
"Where'd this little brat come from? Barely out of his diapers, and he thinks he can play hero?!" one of the bandits sneered.
"I'm not, I swear I'm not! I just want to leave—I don't want to meddle in this!"
Jason waved his hands frantically, all while desperately slapping the horse, urging it to retreat.
But the damn horse wouldn't budge!
"Get him! Cut him down!"
"Yeah, slice him up!"
"Kill him!"
For some inexplicable reason, Jason's arrival had riled up the bandits, making them charge at him like they were high on something.
Seeing no way out, Jason sighed in resignation and drew his sword—the very one gifted to him by his senior, Machaon.
In an instant, Jason's demeanor changed. The reluctance and desire to escape vanished, replaced by an intense focus.
Another of his self-made codes surfaced in his mind—if you can't avoid trouble, resolve it as quickly as possible. Show no mercy to your enemies—wipe them out completely, down to the last speck of dust!
Now that there was no running, Jason thought to himself—fine, let's just finish this!
He had learned some swordsmanship, though not from Chiron. As a former prince, it was only natural that he had received martial training.
And in this era of Greek mythology, martial prowess was highly respected.
Of course, his sword skills alone wouldn't be enough to take on all these bandits. But—who cared? His body was currently impervious to blades.
Time passed, and in the end, the only surviving witnesses saw the same scene: a young and handsome boy, covered in blood, his tattered clothes barely hanging on, leaning against a tree—vomiting.
Since leaving Machaon, Jason had encountered trouble before, but Machaon had always dealt with it before Jason had to lift a finger.
This was the first time Jason had to clean up a mess himself—including chasing down and eliminating every single escaping bandit.
"Coughcough Thank you, young hero, for saving us," an elderly silver-haired woman from the caravan approached Jason. "Night is falling. If you don't mind, our village is not far from here. Would you care to accompany us and rest for the night?"
"No, no, it's fine!"
Jason waved his hands in refusal, already reaching for his horse's reins.
He was ready to leave, to disappear like a true wandering swordsman, leaving behind only a legend.
But—too bad.
He failed again.
Because once more, the damn horse wouldn't move, no matter how hard he pulled.
Jason stared at his horse. The horse stared back, looking oh-so-innocent.
The thing was—it didn't want to do this either.
Damn it!
This wasn't normal. No, this had to be the work of a god!
Realizing something was seriously off, Jason's expression turned grim. His horse was just a normal steed—not some divine beast. There was no reason it should be able to resist him like this.
Left with no choice, he accepted the elder's invitation and traveled with the caravan for about half an hour before reaching a small village.
Once there, Jason refused all forms of reward.
"Hmm… how about this," the elderly woman suggested. "Your clothes are in tatters, and I happen to be skilled in weaving. If you don't mind, why not stay at my place for the night? I'll sew you a new set of clothes before morning."
Jason found the whole situation far too convenient. He wanted to refuse.
But in the end, he found himself inside a thatched cottage anyway.
After washing up, he planned to stay awake the entire night—just in case.
But strangely, before long, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
As he struggled to resist, a soft, melodic voice echoed in his mind—
"Sleep."
I knew it! I freaking knew something was off!
Jason screamed internally before his vision went dark.
Just as he collapsed, the door creaked open.
The elderly woman entered.
But then—she disappeared.
In the dim light of the oil lamp, the wrinkled crone transformed into a stunning beauty with waist-length silver hair, clad in a flowing white gown.
"You troublesome little thing..."
Golden eyes gleaming with absolute wisdom, she reached out and pinched Jason's cheek.
"I planned at least ten different scenarios to lure you here, and yet none of them worked. In the end, I still had to personally step in and bring you here myself!"
As she spoke, a dark butterfly emerged from Jason's body.
Bathed in the moonlight, the butterfly took form—
A woman with long black hair, deep red eyes, and a flowing black dress.
Hecate.
Hecate looked at the silver-haired, golden-eyed goddess before her and said, "But from what I've seen, haven't you been enjoying yourself quite a bit along the way… Athena?"