Kleis was no longer dressed in rags.
He had changed into proper, presentable clothing.
Following the instructions given to him, he kept his expression blank and repeated the same motion without pause, just as told, until the sun went down and he arrived with the crowd.
This was the first task Night assigned after he formally accepted Kleis as his attendant.
Show no unnecessary expression.
Complete your assignment with unwavering composure.
And do not ask why.
Kleis followed every word without question.
It was precisely that serious, expressionless, indifferent demeanor carrying out such a strange action that drew people in and made them stop and stare.
The look on his face did not suggest anything was wrong with him mentally.
People began wondering whether this man had some difficulty he could not speak of or whether the repetitive motion served some special purpose.
Curiosity and the desire to understand were instincts every human possessed.
And not just humans.
The gods above were no different.
Apollo and Artemis were almost embarrassed to admit to other gods that they had spent an entire day watching a marathon, followed by one ordinary human's performance art in a public square.
When Kleis walked up to complete the handoff of his task, everyone in the square could not help but shift their eyes toward him as well, and then were immediately drawn in by that appearance and bearing, too beautiful to belong to an ordinary person.
At this moment, the gods seemed to partly understand why he had Kleis repeat those meaningless motions.
The actions themselves held no meaning, but they drew in a large crowd.
And now Kleis had effortlessly transferred all that accumulated attention to him with a single moment.
By this point,
The entire central square was packed with people.
Night seized the moment and began making a grand, high-profile declaration of his identity.
Not through words, but through a display of skill.
Since he had already been gifted such powerful musical talent by divine blessing, how could he not put it to use, adding another layer of mystery and legend to his identity?
Right then and there,
He took out his lyre, closed his eyes slightly, and began to improvise, narrating his own story in the most popular style of the era.
Like a wandering bard, or like how the son of the sun god Apollo, Orpheus, once let the wind carry his heart's voice, telling people his story.
The lyrics, combined with the divinely granted musical talent and its powerful ability to stir emotion, let him effortlessly weave whatever musical world he wanted.
'I am Griffith Lista,
Descendant of the heroes who once sailed the Argo, now journeying across all of Greece on my own adventure.'
He then recounted the whole process of how he used gold coins to carry out an unconventional marathon, screening out the strong attendant he needed through the song.
That melodious voice even drifted into the palace.
Telephus himself heard the beautiful music, though the distance was too great to make out the actual words, only the melody reaching him.
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And here, in the square,
It was clear that the crowd had been completely captivated.
If the people originally gathered here were only drawn by Kleis's performance art out of brief curiosity and a desire to understand what was happening, then now, they were genuinely interested in who he was.
Afterward, Night began distributing the gold coins right there at the square entrance.
When handful after handful of gold coins were actually handed out, his credibility was confirmed once more.
Quite a few people now believed the fabricated story he told earlier.
An action that seemed pointless and wasteful, yet through it he genuinely earned the people's trust.
Through one marathon, scattering a great deal of money,
Night made countless people trust him instinctively.
And now they completely believed in his identity as a hero's descendant.
And at this point he finally revealed his true purpose.
He told the crowd that as a descendant of the Argo heroes, his grandfather had asked him before departure to visit the children of old friends and get acquainted.
He was now about to bring his attendant to pay a friendly visit and meet Telephus, who was likewise a descendant of a hero.
(So should I use the name Night or Griffith from now on? Because he's going to use this name from now on?)
Instantly, this meeting between sons of heroes, which could only be described as historic, drew the burning attention of the entire city.
Everyone began watching and imagining what it would look like when Griffith Lista met their king.
What? What?
A meeting between sons of heroes?
A continuation of the Argo era?
If there were newspapers or anything of the sort in this world, it would certainly have drawn far more spectators.
People even started imagining whether, when these two hero descendants met, they might talk about amusing stories from their fathers' and grandfathers' time on the Argo.
And finally,
The commotion in front of the palace alerted King Telephus inside.
With a scene that size, the palace guards naturally relayed the news back inside in a hurry long before.
Telephus did not dare be dismissive.
Though he was a little confused inwardly.
Was there really a hero by that name on the Argo?
His father had told him stories about what happened on the Argo back when he was still alive.
But aside from the more famous ones, like the captain Jason, who got along particularly well with Heracles, the details about more ordinary heroes had long since slipped from his memory.
Let alone the fact that as a king, he was kept busy every day with a thousand matters.
Who had the mind to go back over things that had already passed into epic and legend?
But if the descendant came all this way for a friendly visit, the families must have been on very good terms.
When Telephus asked his guards what the hero's full name was,
The name fabricated for the driver, Kratos Lista, reached his ears.
Though he racked his brain, he genuinely could not recall which uncle this Kratos Lista was.
'I have no idea?! Father never mentioned anyone by that name either.
Or did he, and I forgot? '
Telephus's expression at that moment was both stiff and somewhat bewildered.
But since the other party had already come, he might as well take a look.
Out of respect, Telephus made a decision right then to go to the palace gates in person and welcome Lord Griffith Lista.
When he stepped outside and saw an enormous crowd surrounding a breathtakingly handsome silver-haired youth walking slowly forward, looking utterly sacred, as if bathed in moonlight,
Griffith Lista.
Telephus picked him out of the crowd in an instant.
It was impossible not to.
Or rather, the entire scene gave him quite a shock, and he began frantically trying to remember which great hero Kratos was supposed to be.
Just the descendant alone drew this many people rallying around him.
The crowd of spectators, naturally, was not about to step up and explain anything to their king.
"We were just curious and came along to watch. Nothing else going on."
But the sheer scale of it did startle Telephus.
He started to feel glad he had been cautious.
Good thing he didn't brush the visitor off just because the hero's name was unfamiliar.
A warm smile spread across his face as he went forward to greet him.
And that greeting caused an uproar among the spectators below.
Their eyes practically lit up, and they froze on the spot.
In that moment the people of the royal city had only one thought left in their heads.
The king came out personally, and with such enthusiasm!
A collective gasp of disbelief rose up inside them, and in their minds Night's identity was completely confirmed.
Would their king be this enthusiastic for just anyone who was not a descendant of the Argo heroes?!
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