"We Did It!"
Cyd lay on the ground, eyes half-closed, looking surprisingly relaxed. "That was easier than I thought," he said lazily. "I was ready to use poison like I did with that lion, but this boar made things so much simpler. Its brain was so exposed that even a small wound could be fatal, let alone a full-on stab."
"Yeah, we won," Atalanta, still draped over Cyd, nodded with her arms crossed.
"Um…" Cyd shifted his fingers cautiously and raised his head slightly. "Should I lift you up now?"
"I'm tired," Atalanta said, curling up and closing her eyes. "I'm going to sleep."
"Eh…" Cyd sighed, then tentatively placed his hand on the crook of Atalanta's leg. "Shall I carry you?"
"Do whatever you want," she replied without opening her eyes. "You've been quite handsy these past few days while I've been unable to move."
"Well, I guess that was my mistake," Cyd said with a wry smile as he lifted her up.
To his surprise, Atalanta was quite compliant and even wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn't bite him, which was a relief, though he wondered why she kept her eyes closed.
"What should we do with this boar?" Cyd asked as he carried Atalanta over to the still-twitching corpse of the monster. He poked the boar's rear with the tip of his foot. "It's already huge, and there's no way we can eat it all."
"The hide is too big to carry," Atalanta said, opening one eye to examine the boar.
As Cyd paced around the beast, a flash of white appeared behind a tree.
"Hm… It seems like the atmosphere between Cyd and Atalanta is something I shouldn't interrupt," Artemis observed from behind the tree, her instincts telling her that any sudden appearance might cause trouble. She hesitated, wondering if she should make her presence known. But why did she suddenly feel more inclined to stay hidden?
A snap of a twig made Artemis's eyes narrow. The sound of approaching humans reached her ears—more than one, in fact.
"Of course they would show up now," she thought, her form beginning to fade from sight. "If they cause me any more trouble, they'll regret it."
Cyd glanced over his shoulder, noticing the group of people approaching, led by a familiar man. He blinked in surprise.
"Aren't you…?"
"I'm Melaagros!" the man said, looking frustrated as he recognized Cyd and Atalanta. "You're the heroes from Calydon!"
"Oh, right! You're the hero who complained to Hercules about his back pain," Cyd said, remembering the name with a grin.
"Let's forget about that," Melaagros said, noting the boar's massive form behind Cyd. "It looks like you took care of the boar."
"Yeah," Cyd said with a grin. "We've almost finished it off, so it should die soon."
"I see…" Melaagros scratched his head, conflicted. "Our main goal was to hunt the boar, but part of the goal was also to gain glory from the hunt. Since you did most of the work, it's only fair that we handle the spoils."
As he pondered this, Melaagros's uncles pushed past Cyd and began to argue over how to divide the boar. They treated the monster as if they had hunted it themselves, their excitement palpable.
"Hey!" Melaagros shouted at his uncles. "The boar belongs to Cyd and Atalanta! It's their prize!"
"Hah? The boar isn't dead yet, so it's still up for grabs!" Melaagros's oldest uncle said, patting the boar's trembling body. "A woman and a weakling can't possibly have defeated it!"
"Exactly! We're the ones who came to Calydon to deal with the monster, so we should be the ones to claim it. And if you happened to delay us, we'll at least acknowledge that!" Melaagros's second uncle sneered, drawing his sword to finish off the boar.
Cyd looked at Melaagros with an expression asking, "Is this what you're dealing with?" clearly impressed by the level of shamelessness.
"I am the leader of this hunt," Melaagros said, his face flushed with embarrassment. He stepped forward and grabbed his uncle's arm, halting the downward swing of the sword. "We haven't defeated the boar yet, so you're tarnishing Calydon's honor!"
"Well said," Cyd said, nodding in approval of Melaagros's newfound sense of honor.
Artemis, still holding a basket of piglets she was ready to drop, blinked in surprise. She had intended to throw the piglets as a distraction, but now she was curious about how Melaagros would resolve the situation. If he handled it well, she might just keep the piglets to herself.
"Hah? Who would believe that these two defeated the boar?" the second uncle scoffed, shaking off Melaagros's grip. He raised his sword towards the boar's head and declared, "We are the ones who defeated the boar!"
Melaagros felt a pang of anxiety. His uncle was blatantly defying him and undermining his status as the future king of Calydon.
"Wow, you're so impressive," Cyd said, barely containing his laughter.
"Can we go now?" Atalanta yawned, her fatigue evident. "I'm tired of this argument. It's time we headed back to Arcadia."
"I've already said it," Melaagros's eyes grew serious. "The boar belongs to them. To disrespect their victory is to dishonor the name of heroes."
"Ha! Heroes? Only the victors are heroes," the second uncle sneered, preparing to strike the boar. "Let me end this—"
Before he could finish, a bloody spear tip pierced through his throat.
"You!" The eldest uncle drew his sword, but Melaagros merely looked at him coldly. With a single, decisive motion, Melaagros drew his own sword, creating a perfect arc in the air.
"Oh!" Cyd's eyes widened at the display.
Wiping the blood from his face, Melaagros addressed the remaining group with a cold gaze. "The boar belongs to Cyd and Atalanta," he said, tossing his bloodied sword to the ground. "Any objections?"
Who would dare object after that?
"Well…" Cyd coughed to clear his throat. "We only need a piece of the hide. You can keep the rest."
"Are you sure? We didn't do anything," Melaagros said, astonished. If he were in Cyd's position, he wouldn't have been so generous.
"It's fine," Cyd said with a smile. "I didn't come here for the spoils."
Melaagros was taken aback. Looking into Cyd's clear eyes, he saw a reflection of his own tarnished soul and found himself smiling wryly. "A true hero, huh? Maybe you're more deserving of the title than I am."
"Eh?" Cyd tilted his head. He felt like Melaagros was overthinking things.