After their new companion joined them, the Argo set sail once more.
After a full day and night at sea, they finally saw the faint, towering silhouette of the Caucasus rising from the horizon.
By dusk, they heard the frantic beating of wings overhead, yet these sounds were far louder than those of any ordinary bird.
The crew looked up to see a colossal eagle soaring across the sky. Its wings stretched tens of meters wide, like some enormous bomber aircraft.
Each beat of its wings stirred up violent turbulence, and its savage cry boomed like thunder.
They had stumbled upon a terrifying predator.
Even the bravest heroes trembled beneath such a monstrous creature.
Everyone fell silent, the oarsmen stopped rowing, and Orpheus ended his melodious singing, fearing that even the slightest noise might provoke the giant eagle and draw its attack.
They believed that with its size and weight, a single dive would be enough to overturn the Argo.
Fortunately, the giant eagle showed no interest in hunting at sea. It flew straight toward the distant Caucasus Mountains.
It passed above the Argo and disappeared from sight shortly after.
But soon, a sharp cry rang out from afar, followed by earth-shaking screams of agony.
Had the eagle attacked someone? But how could an ordinary human make such a tremendous sound?
Just as everyone was puzzling over this, Alaric suddenly stepped forward.
He was recognized by all aboard as the wisest among them, and everyone was eager to hear his judgment.
"Although even I have never seen such a dreadful giant eagle, I believe I have already deduced its identity," Alaric analyzed calmly.
"In this world, there are very few birds of prey that can grow to such a size, no more than four or five kinds.
And from the sounds we just heard, I am now certain which one this is."
Everyone turned to him, waiting for his answer.
Alaric smiled slightly and continued, "Eagles exist everywhere across the world; most divine realms have their own.
But only a few reach this size: the falcon god Horus of the Egyptian pantheon, the lion-headed eagle god of Mesopotamia.
Vedrfolnir of the Norse gods, Huitzilopochtli of the Aztecs, the Caucasian Eagle of the Greek pantheon...
Judging by that scream earlier, there is no doubt, this giant eagle is Zeus's Caucasian Eagle, whose task is to devour the liver of Prometheus, the titan who stole heavenly fire for mankind."
The heroes were reminded of Prometheus, who had sacrificed himself for humanity.
His agonized cries echoed endlessly, and a deep sorrow gradually welled within their hearts.
Though Prometheus's tale had spread far and wide thanks to Athena's tacit allowance, to most people he remained admirable yet distant.
But now the Argonauts were close to the Caucasus itself, hearing Prometheus's suffering with their own ears. Only now did they truly feel the weight of his torment.
The great Prometheus had endured countless horrors for humankind, yet Zeus, king of the gods, subjected him to such cruelty.
To the gods, this meant nothing, but to humans, Zeus's behavior was chilling.
As Alaric recounted the tale, the group relived Prometheus's story once more.
They felt keenly that behind the imposing and mighty facade of the gods lay only coldness and indifference toward mortals, whom they regarded as mere weeds.
The gods cared only for their own desires and dominion.
Only Prometheus and Athena could truly be said to stand wholeheartedly on the side of humanity.
Hecate, though goddess of magic, remained too obscure, known mainly among mages alone.
The Argonauts might be celebrated heroes across Greece, but before the gods they were merely insignificant mortals.
Even though they felt deep sympathy for Prometheus, what could they possibly do?
For a long moment, everyone fell into silent contemplation.
After some time, the screams finally faded.
The Argonauts saw the giant eagle flapping its huge wings as it ascended and flew back the way it had come.
Prometheus's suffering for the day was finished, yet the impact of what they had witnessed would linger far longer.
The resentment toward the gods that Prometheus planted in their hearts was like a seed, buried deep, waiting for the right moment to sprout.
In the days that followed, the atmosphere aboard the Argo remained heavy.
Yet Alaric seemed rather pleased.
His explanation regarding the Caucasian Eagle and Prometheus had been a spontaneous move, a casual stroke on the board.
He had not expected it to influence the heroes very much; it was merely a small tap against the foundations of the gods, a gentle loosening of the wall.
After all, the true purpose behind sending the Argonauts on this expedition was something the heroes themselves had absolutely no idea about.
Throughout their journey, Alaric had used all sorts of methods to weaken the Argonauts so the gods' schemes would fail.
But at the same time, he had no intention of letting them all perish.
While preventing them from seizing the Golden Fleece, Alaric had also considered revealing the truth to these unfortunate heroes in some fashion.
After suffering countless hardships and losing many companions, if they finally learned that their glorious expedition was nothing more than a divine scheme, a mere wager between gods, would they not go mad?
Would their faith in the gods not begin to crumble?
By then, the seeds he planted today would surely bear fruit.
That very night, the Argonauts finally reached their destination: Colchis Island.
Though the vast island was shrouded in thick mist and protected by repelling enchantments, the Argo, blessed by the gods, still managed to arrive.
They landed at the mouth of the Phasis River.
The Argonauts lowered their sails and rowed the ship into the broad river, heading upstream.
To their left lay the capital city of the Kingdom of Colchis, Kutaia; to the right stretched wide farmlands and a vast, dense forest.
Within that forest, a mighty dragon kept its sleepless eyes fixed on the Golden Fleece hanging from the crown of an oak tree.
When the Argo stopped at a bend near the forest, Jason lifted a golden cup filled with wine.
Raising it high, he poured the offering to the river and to Mother Earth, honoring all the gods and the heroes who had died along the journey, and prayed for divine aid to protect the Argo.
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