The Golden Fleece (2)

I walked past Heracles and Atalanta, my eyes fixed on the formidable golden dragon before us. Its sheer power had overwhelmed even these heroes, blessed by the Gods, and logic dictated that it should surpass my own strength as well. Under ordinary circumstances, defeating such a creature would have been beyond my capability.

But fate had granted me an unexpected advantage—Medea.

Fucking her didn't only give pleasure and her loyalty. I drew a long, black sword, feeling the surge of darkness emanate from my very core, enveloping my body in a tangible shroud of power.

"Darkness magic…" Atalanta muttered in shock, her voice barely audible over the chaotic sounds of battle.

"I've seen darkness magic before, but his… it's so dense," Heracles remarked, his tone edged with both awe and concern.