He was known as the Hero Who Saved the Nation. In those days, the people of Colchis honored him greatly. He ended the chaos plaguing their country, crowned their wise princess as king, and made a solemn pact—one that declared all people born free. He swore this oath to humanity, and even to the gods themselves. Yet, having fulfilled all he promised, he quietly vanished.
—Chronicles of Greek Heroes
...
"Still no sign of Lord Rovi?"
"None, Princess. We couldn't find him today either."
"It seems I really did rush things..." In the royal palace of Colchis, Medea sat upon the king's throne, dressed in a regal gown of purple and white. Upon hearing her maid's response, a hint of frustration flickered across her pretty face.
Some time had passed since the sudden rebellion. Ever since, Medea had acted as king, governing the affairs of Colchis. Though not formally crowned yet, she already wielded the kingdom's full authority.
From initial inexperience to confident mastery, the young princess had quickly won over her subjects through sheer competence.
After all, she was a magus of extraordinary intelligence.
Yet, despite finally gaining control over her own fate, she found herself unhappy.
Because Rovi... had run away.
After her bold "proposal" that day, he'd left only a brief message: "You're still young—we wouldn't work out," took the Golden Fleece, and disappeared without a trace.
Perhaps he'd already left the kingdom?
"But I was completely serious—ugh!" Medea complained softly, puffing her cheeks slightly. "And I'm definitely not too young!"
I'm clearly older than that woman who was with him!
"Princess..." The maid beside her gently intervened, seeing Medea's childish sulking. "Recently, many in the kingdom have urged you to officially take the throne..."
"Yes, yes, I know. That doesn't matter right now!" Medea waved dismissively.
No, no, no—that's exactly what matters the most!
The maid remained expressionless. She'd grown accustomed to her princess spending a little time each day like this.
At least, thanks to Rovi kicking Cupid away, Medea wasn't completely obsessed. She was genuinely in love, but not madly so.
"Start preparing the coronation ceremony," Medea finally looked up, regaining her composure.
"Yes, Princess!" the maid replied, relieved. She knew that for Medea, the country was still important—
"Once I'm officially king, I'll have the authority to order a nationwide search for Lord Rovi, right?" Medea's cheeks flushed with excitement, determined to find her lost hero.
The maid's expression went blank again.
Never mind.
The princess had completely fallen in love.
She was beyond saving now.
Forget it. Time for the world to end.
Of course, neither Medea nor her maid realized that Rovi had never left Colchis. He and Atalanta were still wandering within the kingdom.
...
The midday sun blazed over farmland outside the city walls, illuminating farmers bent low over their fields.
"Sir, are you truly not considering staying? If you agree, I promise to personally petition the princess to grant you lordship of this region..."
Standing beside a narrow path at the edge of the farmland, Rovi watched an elderly man plead persistently. He scratched his head, silently wondering what the old farmer would say if he revealed he'd fled directly from the palace.
Since departing from the Colchis palace, he'd remained outside the city walls, among these farmlands.
Under Aeëtes's oppressive reign, most young men had been taken as slaves or forced laborers. Now, with Medea's rise, everyone had returned to their lands.
But the fields, long tended only by the elderly, had fallen into ruin. Returning youths faced only devastation, overwhelmed and unsure how to begin again.
In an age where humans lived alongside gods, few possessed much practical knowledge, relying solely on prayers that went unanswered.
That was why Rovi was here: to teach them.
He showed them how to cultivate fields systematically, build proper irrigation channels, and construct waterwheels—things long known in Uruk a thousand years before, yet still miraculous here.
As days passed, chaos gradually gave way to order.
Yet, the elderly farmers still weren't satisfied.
They wanted Rovi to remain, to guide them continually toward prosperity. In their eyes, he had become an envoy of the land itself.
Humans always desired more, once they had something valuable.
But Rovi naturally declined their offer. "I've already taught you everything I can. There's nothing more for me to do here."
"I see..." Thankfully, because Rovi had only demonstrated practical knowledge without displaying overt mystical powers, the elderly man accepted this refusal with mild disappointment. "Then, safe travels, sir!"
Their gains hadn't reached a point where letting go was impossible.
Rovi smiled faintly as he watched the old man leave.
Behind him, beneath the shade of thick branches, a crisp voice suddenly sounded: "You could've finished all this in an instant, yet you wasted so much effort. How boring."
"It's meaningless to do it that way," Rovi glanced back, meeting the eyes of the girl who stepped from the shadows.
Atalanta's greenish-gold hair remained as disheveled as ever, her beastlike ears twitching lightly. She feigned annoyance, arms crossed beneath her chest, slender figure straight-backed beneath her blue-green clothes. Her black-clad hips curved gracefully down to slim legs planted firmly like forest trees.
"Kid, do you know why I rejected Medea's offer?"
"How… How should I know what you're thinking? Wait—what does your thinking have to do with me anyway!?" Atalanta replied hurriedly, eyes darting nervously. Then suddenly she realized—"Hold on, who're you calling 'kid'!?"
"You still deny it, after all this time?" Rovi glanced sideways at the hand Atalanta was currently biting.
Only after the girl finally released him did he casually pull out the Golden Fleece and wipe off his hand.
He had to admit: Greece's ultimate treasure made for a very comfortable towel.
"Hmph!" Atalanta bared her teeth slightly.
Ignoring her irritation, Rovi gazed toward the farmland. "A hero who stays in one place and can't truly bring lasting happiness is worthless."
That was precisely why he chose to teach practical knowledge instead of directly using magecraft to grant them abundant harvests.
This way, even after he left, they'd reap prosperity through their own efforts.
He neither would nor could remain in one place permanently. A wandering hero shouldn't rely solely on momentary strength.
"Besides, by doing this, I'll stand on the moral high ground," Rovi suddenly grinned, eyes gazing toward the distant sea, as if seeing a certain ship approaching on the tides. "That way I can confidently beat up and curse those guys who call themselves 'heroes.' They've pissed me off long enough!"
Atalanta fell silent.
She had a sneaking suspicion... that the last part was actually Rovi's real goal.
---
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