Within the Sacred Garden, the atmosphere was unusually tense. Two figures sat facing each other, the air thick with the feeling of drawn blades.
Samael rolled the last stone fragment between his fingers, smoothing its edge before carving an image onto the card. He glanced at the claw covering his opponent's hand, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Six days had passed since Medusa had entered the earth fortress created by the Golden Apple Tree to attune herself to the Earth Mother Goddess's divine authority.
During that time, every trace of her presence had been sealed away by the ocher glow of the runes and the branches of the tree that hung down like a curtain.
What was happening inside, Samael could not know.
He could only rely on instinct, vaguely sensing that Medusa was undergoing a tremendous transformation, the pressure she gave off steadily mounting.
When it came to comprehending the authority of the earth, no news was the best news.
As for the golden apples, he already had three in hand. They weren't going anywhere; he could eat them whenever he pleased. For now, Medusa's safe completion of this trial mattered most.
With that in mind, Samael gradually relaxed and began looking for ways to pass the time.
A day or two was fine, but after three or five, the boredom became unbearable.
In the end, the ancient serpent managed to rope Ladon into playing Old Maid.
As a Dragonkind and a magical beast to boot, boosted further by a magus's stat allocation, this hundred-headed dragon lived by the principle of "if you can lie down, never stand." Sleeping and hoarding treasure were his true pastimes.
But even the toughest dragon couldn't resist the temptation of jewels and precious metals.
So when Samael flashed a few exquisite Sumerian gold coins with a grin, Ladon immediately cast off his drowsiness and agreed to play, helping the ancient serpent kill time.
Over several days, the two went back and forth, trading wins and losses.
Each time Samael managed to pry a gem from Ladon's grasp, the dragon looked as if a chunk of his flesh had been carved away—hundreds of heads trembling together, all glaring at the thief with venomous eyes.
Samael suspected that if he hadn't already "taught this one a proper lesson," the dragon might have lost his temper, blood pressure spiking until all hundred heads lunged to bite him apart—possibly killing its own master on the spot.
And of course, the process of "properly teaching" always began with a beating, followed by reason.
Did these arrogant monsters really think his title of "Black Devil" was given for nothing?
Tch. Using a Presence Concealment spell on the cards? Cute trick.
I'll show you what it means that your teacher will always be your—
"It's here!"
All of a sudden, Samael's pupils shrank sharply. His gaze snapped forward, and he leapt to his feet.
Ladon's eyes narrowed as he instinctively turned his head.
Tch. Fell for it that easily? Your brain's not even walnut-sized, and you think you can play games with me?
The ancient serpent smirked coldly at his success, craning forward to sneak a look at the ghost card's position in Ladon's claw.
But the next instant, dozens of eyes turned on him, and heads lowered from every direction, freezing him mid-lean. His smile stiffened.
"Really now—so many heads, and you even layered an invisibility spell? That's overkill."
His hand, which had been reaching toward Ladon's claw, lifted high before slowly coming down to pat the dragon's main head, its silver scales fine and elegant in form. Samael's expression soured.
"Roar!"
Ladon, now well used to the rules, expressionlessly extended the head assigned to keep watch on that troublesome serpent. At the same time, he pushed his cards forward, gesturing for him to stop stalling and play properly.
There are no masters or disciples at the gaming table. Even if Samael had taught him the game, this magical dragon—scammed into developing high intelligence—was already showing signs of surpassing his teacher.
Surrounded by dozens of heads and caught red-handed, not even Samael's thick skin could endure the contempt in all those stares.
Resigned, he drew a card at random. When he flipped it over, it was the Joker.
Tch. My luck never fails to betray me.
Samael grumbled inwardly, gave the cards a perfunctory shuffle, then shoved them back toward Ladon in defeat.
Without hesitation, the hundred-headed dragon extended his claw, plucked the suited card, and claimed yet another flawless victory.
"I'm broke. I've got no money left."
When Ladon pressed him for debts, Samael just spread his hands shamelessly.
You're broke? Then where did all those gems you snatched from me go?
You're broke and you still dragged me into playing with you?! Do you even realize I haven't slept in four or five days?!
The hundred-headed Great Dragon seethed, teeth itching with rage at such a shameless teacher.
"Forget it, take this as payment."
Looking a little guilty under the glare of a hundred eyes, Samael casually tossed a golden object at Ladon.
A golden apple?
The dragon stared blankly at the oval fruit resting in his claws.
"I'm done. This is boring."
Stretching lazily, the ancient serpent rose from the ground and flexed his limbs, clearly uninterested.
But when he turned back, he saw Ladon still holding the golden apple, a hundred pairs of eyes darting about in hesitation. Samael clicked his tongue, scowling.
"The three daughters of Nyx will be here in a day or two, and you're still clutching stolen goods? Are you an idiot?"
"Eat it already. This isn't something you collect."
When Ladon continued to hesitate, Samael snatched the apple from him, crushing it to pulp in his palm.
A dark-golden mist brimming with immortality spilled out, which he promptly shoved into the dragon's main mouth.
In the next moment, vast life force erupted within Ladon. The immortality seeped into his muscular divine core, forcing the hundred-headed dragon to droop his heads and concentrate on absorbing the power granted by the golden apple.
Bathed in sunlight, the silver-scaled, elegantly built Dragonkind sprawled on the ground like an enormous salted fish drying in the heat, radiating pure laziness that made even onlookers drowsy.
Samael watched for a while, then couldn't help yawning himself.
Still, when his fingers slipped into his robes and pulled out a few glittering gems, he perked up, idly tossing and tapping them in his palm.
Glancing at Ladon, Samael shook his head with a murmur.
Still a loss…
Since Ladon was already a fully formed divine beast, his digestion was much stronger than Medusa's. After only half a day, the hundred-headed dragon awoke.
As Typhon's offspring regained his senses, he instinctively scanned the surroundings—only to find a shroud of chaotic, obscure divine power enveloping the area, like a membrane that sealed it off from the world.
"Smack!"
"Eyes here. Listen carefully!"
Samael, seated on a rock, slapped Ladon's main head and snorted impatiently.
"Remember this: you're just guarding the Sacred Garden. The treasure isn't yours, but your life is. Guard that first."
"We're all just hired hands here. Take a cue from Nyx's three daughters—do what they do. And if trouble comes, drag them down with you."
"You're at least a guardian appointed by Gaia, the Mother Goddess. Olympus won't dare treat you too harshly."
The ancient serpent frowned, casting his gaze beyond the Sacred Garden at the vast mountains and the waves of cloud spilling from the western horizon, his eyes deep.
"And especially, watch out for that big brute Hercules, and that Titan Atlas holding up the heavens."
"If they come for the golden apples, just go through the motions. Tch, all of it's Zeus's family mess. Don't get involved…"
Patting Ladon's head, Samael gave his final piece of advice.
"Better yet, if you run into them, just run. Two blockheads plus a Berserker? With your mage constitution, you won't survive the hit."