The Villain of Ancient Greece

A sumptuous feast lasted from morning until dusk.

As the banquet drew to a close, Lorne, acting as the head chef, decisively handed over the cleanup work to Hestia, then quietly slipped out through the back door.

There was no other reason.

Artemis’s demeanor was simply too terrifying.

—Not only did she keep staring at him during the meal, but the way she tore into chunks of meat and swallowed them down practically looked like she was chewing on him…

Although he had no idea what had offended this goddess of the hunt, judging from the momentum, it was clearly wise to leave first.

Lorne muttered to himself while leisurely strolling along the main street of Knossos City, pondering in his heart.

At the moment, the Gorgon sisters were asleep in Athena’s temple after absorbing large amounts of oceanic divinity; the troublesome Nike had also been taken by that wise goddess to Olympus as reinforcements;

Hestia was busy tidying up her home while hosting her newly arrived niece, Artemis; and, thanks to his and Princess Ariadne’s coordination, Crete itself was gradually returning to normal after the beast tide;

Old King Minos still had to deal with his unruly sons, so he had no time to pester him for now…

It was rare to have a period of leisure, so why not enjoy a quiet night alone?

Having decided, Lorne walked with a carefree mind through the streets, sampling local snacks, buying a few interesting crafts, or quietly listening to the idle gossip around him, soaking up the vibrant, living breath of daily life.

However, very soon, his relaxation was forced to come to an end.

Because quite a few people recognized him, the lord Scribe, and enthusiastically gathered around to greet him.

Faced with all the heads crowding toward him, plus the excited shrieks from a number of nearby women, Lorne felt a chill run down his scalp.

He quickly apologized, then squeezed out of the crowd at top speed, threw on a pseudo-invisibility spell, and fled from this no-longer-safe trouble spot.

When he slipped away to a hidden corner three streets over, he looked back at the crowd still gathered there and not dispersing, and couldn’t help but shake his head with a sigh.

”Right now, I really do look a bit like the future god of wine, becoming someone who drives men and women alike mad.’

But… this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing either.

Lorne stretched lazily, smiled freely, pulled out a bottle of wine from a magic array, and turned to knock on the door of a modest house.

Inside, the owner of the house heard the knock and opened the door.

The young man, with rough skin and a strong physique, was momentarily overjoyed when he saw the figure standing outside.

”Lord Scr...—”

”Shhh!”

Lorne made a silencing gesture, and quietly pointed to the street not far away, where those still searching for him were milling around.

The young man instantly understood and shut his mouth, holding his breath as he hurried to welcome this honored guest inside.

After the two of them had made their way into the inner hall, he finally dared to breathe out loudly, fumbling to move aside the simple tables and chairs, then placing what few pieces of dried meat and fruit he had to serve Lorne.

”My lord, how come you came so late without any word? There really isn’t much to offer you here.”

Looking at the sparse furnishings of the house, and the scattered, pitiful offerings on the table, the young man rubbed his hands in embarrassment, face full of awkwardness and guilt.

”No need to be so polite. I’ve already eaten, I just came to sit for a bit.”

Lorne laughed gently in reassurance, then his gaze fell on the young man’s left arm, which was slightly paler than the rest of his skin, and asked,

”How is it? Getting used to the new arm?”

”Getting used to it!”

Hearing that, the young man nodded vigorously, his eyes brimming with gratitude.

”Thanks to you, I can once again support my family with these hands, otherwise, I really don’t know how I could have kept rowing a boat out to sea alone.”

”You don’t have to thank me. If it hadn’t been for old Contaneus’s help back then, I wouldn’t have been able to predict the timing of the sea beast attack. This is just me returning a favor to your father.”

Lorne smiled kindly at the old fisherman’s son, or rather, this ordinary young man named Polymonos, and casually took out the bottle of wine he’d brought, setting it on the table and quietly reminding him,

”Your arm has only just finished healing. If you want it to fully return to how it was before, it will still need some time.

This wine I’m giving you, drink a little of it regularly, it will help.”

”To think you went to the trouble of delivering this in person, I really…”

Seeing that this extremely busy Scribe Lord still remembered him, a fisherman’s son so ordinary he could not be more ordinary, Polymonos was so moved he could hardly speak, stammering over his words.

Even after living two lives, Lorne still could not stand scenes that were overly sentimental, so he quickly waved it off.

”All right, I didn’t really do anything, it was just convenient. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading out?”

”Please wait, sir!”

However, the usually somewhat dull and reserved young man stepped in front of the door ahead of him, wearing a look of tremendous courage, and stammered out,

”Tonight there’s a gathering, if you have time, would you stay and join us?”

”Uh, I’m not very used to showing my face in public…” Lorne hesitated.

”That’s all right if you don’t show your face!” Polymonos hurriedly ran inside and brought out a black hooded cloak, his expression full of eager sincerity. ”Look, I even prepared this for you!”

Seeing the heartfelt invitation, and thinking back to that hunt goddess’s strangely murderous expression during dinner, Lorne weighed things for a moment, then nodded slightly.

”Fine, I’ll go have a look with you, though I can’t promise how long I’ll stay.”

Hearing this, Polymonos seemed to receive a great blessing, nodding repeatedly with a look of near-fanatic joy.

”No problem!”

Immediately, this young man instructed his wife to watch over their children, then pulled on an identical black hooded cloak, and led Lorne out of the city through the back door along a small path.

Though the road was uneven, Polymonos moved swiftly, like a galloping horse, overflowing with powerful vitality.

And faint threads of gold and crimson shimmered beneath his skin, conveying the rhythm of life.

Following behind at a calm pace, Lorne secretly nodded to himself.

The experiment succeeded.

’Everything is unfolding exactly as I expected.’

Before long, the two of them took advantage of the night to arrive at a wide-open valley outside the city.

By this time, it was already filled with figures clad in robes and crowned with wreaths of ivy and convolvulus.

They were men and women, young and old, totaling at least a hundred people.

Judging from their accents and movements, some had come from Knossos, some from Rhyttos, some from Naxos, and even some from Greek city-states beyond Crete.

Gathered in this valley far from the noisy world, they set aside their everyday identities and barriers, lightly sharing local stories, offering each other food and wine, and beginning an impromptu feast.

Compared to these slightly reckless and unrestrained figures, Lorne and Polymonos, mixing quietly among them, looked positively ordinary.

Nevertheless, their arrival was greeted with equal warmth.

Affected by the enthusiasm around him, Lorne did not deliberately act distant, and with his magically disguised and distorted face, politely and modestly returned the greetings of those nearby.

Before long, a group of girls and women, wearing ivy wreaths on their heads, cloaked in fawn skins, and holding staffs entwined with ivy or topped with pine cones, approached from the woods beating hand drums and cymbals.

In an instant, the somewhat noisy valley fell silent, as everyone turned in unison to look at these maidens who were chanting their hymn.

”Come, Dionysus of ecstatic delight, reborn from flame and lightning,

Bassareus, and a thousand mighty Bacchuses!

Sword, blood, and pure women bring you joy;

You cry Aha! from atop the clouds,

roaring, mad Bacchus!

You hold the divine staff, your fury soaring to the heavens;

all living beings revere you, and mortals upon the earth respect you too.

We are the ashes of the Titans, the frenzied descendants,

our blood thicker than water, our lineage intertwined!

Come, joyful god, grant happiness and blessings to all!

Gradually, the people gathered around seemed to be infected by this solemn yet lively melody, joining in happily to echo it, participating together in this grand secret celebration.

As for Lorne among the crowd, he half-heartedly mouthed along with practiced fake singing, the corners of his mouth twitching as he raised a hand to rub his forehead.

All right.

No matter how many times he attended, this kind of being directly worshipped face-to-face still made him feel rather uncomfortable as a wave of shame started flooding over him.

That’s right, this newly forming secret cult before his eyes was precisely the small group Lorne had personally built up during this time, using the convenience of his official position.

They had bonded through wine, revered wine, promoted self-indulgence, essentially the prototype of the future Orphic cult that would worship Dionysus.

Soon, the first hymn ended, and the maenads hosting the gathering brought forward the newly elected high priestess to the front.

”Brothers and sisters, thank you for coming from afar to attend the celebration.

Now, let us raise our drinking skins together, and offer a sacrifice to the god who grants us blessings and joy!”

At that moment, the grand cult leader himself, blending in among the crowd, turned his head toward the sound and couldn’t help seeing that flushed, excited, slightly rebellious young face.

”Pfft!”

Instantly, the mouthful of wine Lorne had just swallowed spurted out as a look of shock and astonishment crossing his face and he muttered under his breath.

How is it her?

(End of Chapter)

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