The driver took him straight to the slums of the kingdom.
He did not know who the poorest person in the country was, but nearly all the poor ended up here.
There were also many refugees who lost their livelihoods and the pillars of their families because of the war.
When Night saw those ragged figures, he knew he came to the right place.
The slums and the poorest people were not always perfectly connected, but the conditions where the most destitute lived were easy enough to imagine.
He kept his word, handed the driver one gold coin, and told him to wait a moment while he went in, as he would be hiring the carriage again to take him back shortly.
With a gold coin involved, the driver was, of course, very happy to oblige.
Then, when he stepped out of the carriage, the noble clothing and the beautifully tied silver-white hair immediately drew quite a few stares.
That handsome appearance and exceptional bearing were completely out of place with the surroundings.
"I am Griffith Lista, a descendant of the heroes who sailed on the Argo.
I am currently traveling across all of Greece, completing the adventure that belongs to me."
The moment he spoke, his words instantly caused a wave of commotion, one after another.
Quite a few people in the slums poked their heads out from crumbling buildings.
Many were drawn in by what he said.
The Argo?!
That legendary ship carrying the finest heroes of Greece, a vessel blessed by the gods, and its crew's descendants?
As one of Greece's most famous hero epics, the story of the Argo had only just passed by one generation.
Many of the older people here lived through that era themselves.
The name Argo carried an almost magnetic pull, impossible to ignore.
Not to look far, the father of Achilles and the father of this kingdom's king Telephus were both heroes who sailed on the Argo.
There was even a saying in Greece at the time that any hero who never boarded that ship could not truly call himself a hero.
Though most heroes on that epic voyage were little more than crew members, in the eyes of ordinary people, being a descendant of an Argo hero still carried enormous prestige.
And the driver standing in the back, waiting for him, also widened his eyes. "I actually carried a hero's descendant?!"
The king was also a descendant of an Argo hero and the son of the legendary great hero Heracles himself.
Rounding things up, didn't that basically mean he carried someone on the same level as the king?
Thinking this, the driver got so excited his neck went red.
This was something he could brag about to his fellow drivers for the rest of his life.
"I need a strong and capable attendant. Among you, is there any man here with no family left and nothing tying him down?"
An attendant to a hero's descendant!
And possibly, in the future, an attendant to an actual hero...
Instantly, quite a few sturdy men who felt they met the criteria seemed to have light enter their eyes.
Among them, one powerfully built middle-aged man felt a flicker of longing rise within him.
Because the Greeks had mistaken this place for Troy and ransacked it not long ago, his property and home were destroyed, and the king showed no intention of providing any relief.
He was completely broke now and had actually been planning to go into the city that very day to find work.
And being a hero's attendant was absolutely a prestigious and high-status job in any ordinary person's eyes.
Quite a few younger men were a little eager to try, but also hesitant.
Not because they doubted his identity as a hero's descendant, but because they were uncertain whether they were qualified enough to serve a hero as an attendant.
In appearance alone, he perfectly fulfilled every idea they had of what a hero looked like.
Noble, handsome, untouchable, completely like someone on an entirely different level from themselves.
Just as people were hesitating while itching to act, the handsome young man tossed a small coin pouch out from inside his robe.
Through the gap of the scattered pouch, everyone could see it was full of gold coins.
Instantly, countless burning stares locked onto it.
.....
"Starting from here, run toward the royal capital.
Anyone who successfully reaches the main gate before sunset can take one gold coin from this pouch.
The one who arrives first will naturally be the strongest and will have the right to become my attendant.
In the name of Griffith Lista, I swear before the gods,
I mean what I say. As long as the gold coins in this pouch are not gone, everyone who joins and makes it to the city gate within the set time will receive payment."
.....
This time, when he finished, no one hesitated.
After all, they just needed to run alone, and there was even money to be had?!
People felt as though something lit up before their eyes.
They might not become a hero's attendant, but anyone with even a little confidence in their own stamina could not sit still.
When the first person glanced at the coin pouch on the ground, then turned without hesitation and started running toward the royal capital, more and more people got swept up in it.
Even some who were not particularly strong felt a flash of longing in their eyes.
One gold coin?
No, that was enough hope to escape the slums and start life fresh.
It was not a gold coin.
It was a completely new life.
And so, driven by the raw instinct of survival, even some of the leaner, ordinary people wanted to give it a shot.
More and more joined the running crowd in the end, afraid that if they came too late, there would be nothing left.
And just like that, a great marathon began.
Seeing this, Night finally got into the carriage last, taking the coin pouch with him, and headed back toward the royal capital ahead of them all.
The first step of the plan was already a success.
To see the king, he first needed a reputation.
A fabricated one alone was too easy to see through, but with countless people rallying behind him as he walked up to the palace gates, no one would doubt he was a noble hero's descendant.
By the time anyone thought to quietly send someone to verify the truth, his purpose in meeting Telephus would already be accomplished.
And even if someone actually tried to verify it, it would be very difficult to do so.
On top of that, throughout his words just now he had been steadily guiding people, repeatedly emphasizing his identity as a descendant of the Argo heroes.
It was said the Argo carried over fifty heroes, though some said only forty-five, and the actual number of those recorded by name was only forty-three.
Not even including Atalanta, who was both a princess and a famous huntress in her own right.
But the number of heroes suspected to have boarded came to nearly sixty.
A ship said to carry fifty heroes actually having over sixty people, like the Four Heavenly Kings having five members, was perfectly normal, right?!
Even if one more unknown hero appeared out of nowhere, in an era with such poor communication, it would be very hard to disprove.
Could you prove this person was never on the ship?
Even if the captain of the Argo, Jason himself, showed up in person, he might not know every single crew member.
After all, with that many people, not everyone would have specifically made a point of memorizing the names of all fellow crew members on a hastily assembled ship setting out on a long voyage.
'You cannot prove it is true.
But you also cannot prove it is false.'
So it could be true.
That was one of the important reasons he chose this particular disguise.
Lie within lie, layer upon layer. When everyone believes it is real,
"Then I say it is real."
.
.
(End of the Chapter)