The Villain of Ancient Greece

Half an hour later.

”This little sister-in-law is so weak. Just a few cups and she’s out cold.”

Leaning back against a tree, Lorne raised his cup in jest, glancing at little Princess Phaedra, who was flushed red, fast asleep in her companions’ laps, completely defenseless.

Yet within the secluded valley, no one responded to the cult leader’s teasing remark.

Because Phaedra, after all, was the legitimate daughter of King Minos and carried pure divine blood.

As for the rest of the believers, well.. whether young and old, they were just ordinary mortals, so, their resistance to wine was even weaker than the little princess’s.

By now, they had all found comfortable spots and collapsed neatly into slumber.

Even Polymonos, the youth who brought Lorne here, hadn’t been spared.

Under the full moon, pale and cold silver light scattered over the valley, casting a faint veil like a protective blanket over the men and women below.

Immersed in dreams, the believers slept peacefully.

With each breath, subtle threads of golden-red light stirred beneath their skin, pulsing in rhythm with their heartbeats and the flow of blood.

With every surge of this golden-red energy, the life force of these sleepers grew stronger.

The knots in their souls loosened, brows relaxed; slack skin tightened slightly, gaining smoothness and elasticity; their fragile organs became more resilient , vibrant vitality began to hum within them.

From soul to flesh, the changes were almost imperceptible, but absolutely real.

Praise be to this joy — to life itself!

From under the tree, the instigator of all this raised his cup in a silent toast, a satisfied smile on his face.

Under the moonlight, Lorne’s eyes glistened like crystals as he looked at the golden-red glow beneath the skin of his followers.

Or rather, the divinity he had gifted them, now incubating and taking root in them.

In the silver moonlight, he gently swirled the wine in his cup, gazing into the stream of blood-red grape wine below, murmuring with layered meaning:

”This is my body, sacrificed for you;

This is my blood, spilled for the people.

Ashes of the Titans, frenzied descendants;

Our blood is thicker than water, our lineage connected…”

His magnetic voice sounded like an ancient mythological hymn, timeless and solemn.

In historical accounts, the Orphic cult that worshipped Dionysus revered a god of resurrection, Zagreus,

The earliest incarnation of Dionysus.

Legend says Zeus and Persephone first gave birth to horned Zagreus.

As a child, Zagreus climbed Zeus’s throne, waving his father’s lightning bolts with tiny hands, a clear sign that he would one day replace Zeus and become the new ruler of the world.

And as luck or something would have it, the jealous queen Hera incited the Titans to tear Zagreus apart and devour him, all but his heart.

The goddess Athena, pitying the child, retrieved his heart and brought it to Zeus, who swallowed the heart, then united with Semele, princess of Thebes, and thus Zagreus was born again.

In this way, he died and was resurrected — becoming the Dionysus we know.

And in that great divine war where the Titans tore apart Dionysus and Zeus incinerated them with thunderbolts, the new world was stabilized.

From the ashes of the Titans, mankind was born.

Thus, in Orphic doctrine — whether Zagreus or Dionysus, the wine god was the one who first sacrificed himself for ancient humanity and accomplished the miracle of resurrection.

Because the Titans devoured Dionysus, humanity born from their ashes inherited both divine essence and the sin of the Titans.

Therefore, humans are born with dual natures — good and evil.

Life’s purpose is to suppress evil and uphold good to attain salvation.

To achieve this, one must perform purification rites, partake in secret initiations, and follow strict taboos — such as no killing, no eating meat, not wearing wool during burial, avoiding beans, and more.

Only those who undergo the mysteries, observe the rules, and pursue virtue can shed their demonic side and awaken the divine within, avoiding the torment of underworld reincarnation and entering the paradise of the Elysian Fields.

Otherwise, they would suffer eternal punishment in the afterlife.

— ”Wine is my blood.”

— The miracle of resurrection.

— Original humans bearing both sin and divinity, saved by a martyred god.

— Elysium as heaven, the underworld as hell.

And the Orphic cult, as a grassroots mystery religion, allowed anyone to join, regardless of birth, gender, or city-state and preached the equality of all life.

Now doesn’t all this feel strangely… familiar?

Lorne smirked, downing the scarlet wine in his cup.

Indeed — in some sense, the Orphic cult of Dionysus had many parallels with the future Abrahamic religions.

And those later religions likely borrowed a lot from their predecessors.

Since they’d already borrowed from him across time,

why shouldn’t he borrow from them as well?

For example, Lorne, the cult founder, had abolished the old primal and barbaric processions of the maenads under him, replacing them with a celebration modeled on future Christian mass.

He promoted a ritual of gathering and drinking as an offering to the wine god, advocating for people to remove their masks, release their nature, rather than abide by societal identities and constraints.

People could also use these gatherings to confess and seek solace — a kind of ritual confession.

Believers should support one another, cherish each other, always keep passion for life, and never forget the desire to please oneself...

Of course, if it were only this, then this newly born cult of the Wine God would have remained a harmless playground for common folk, offering Lorne little real value.

So, on top of this, he elevated the so-called ”gatherings” cloaked as secret rites.

—That is, to drag the gods down from their thrones and grant mortals divinity!

Since this world was born of the blood and ashes of the Titans, then mankind, which was born from it, should also possess divinity.

Likewise, everything in this world:

Be it the grapes grown from the earth or the wine brewed from water, all should hold divinity.

Gods possess humanity. Humans possess divinity.

Mortals can become gods. Gods, too, are subject to human whims.

Therefore, whether deity or mortal, none are inherently nobler or more special than the other.

Equal lives pursue equal pleasures and ultimately bring equal amusement to the world.

This ideology of uplifting humans and humbling gods —was diametrically opposed to the current religious order of Greece.

It was blasphemous, heretical.

But precisely because of that, it may be the only way to cut off the mortals’ reverence for the gods at the root, to make that perfect king of the gods and the mighty Olympians — no longer invincible.

To achieve this, Lorne began experimenting, using his growing divinity as a god of wine, brewing sacred wine imbued with blessing.

He let his believers drink it, to awaken the Titan divinity slumbering in their blood.

After months of trials, and thanks to spare parts and flesh spilled from a certain demigod hero and several divine-blood descendants, his experiment finally took a major step forward — a breakthrough.

The believers who drank the divine wine gradually activated the divine genes within them, gaining minor blessings.

Admittedly, the divine sparks he kindled in them were still minuscule, like fireflies trying to outshine the moon, ridiculous and overreaching.

These people, even in their whole lifetimes, might never become competent warriors or heroes.

But, the seed of rebellion had been sown.

Time would help it take root.

He had already handed down the stolen divine authority and a new future, into mortal hands.

So—

’Have fun. Don’t disappoint me. I’ll be waiting to celebrate your victory.’

”Ah-ha! Cheers!”

Under the tree, the unscrupulous instigator raised his goblet in salute to newly-born mankind, to the seeds of rebellion, and to the still-glorious Olympus beneath the night sky.

The empty cup slipped from his fingers, and a gentle breeze swept through the valley.

The rich scent of wine and the flowing springwater slowly dissipated.

The sleeping crowd began to stir, waking from their dreams.

They looked toward the east.

The first light of dawn pierced through the thick night —

The world of gods ushered in yet another new day.

---

~~

Knossos City. Third Street. Seventh Residence.

A figure walking with the morning light quietly took out a spare key, opened the door, and crept into the house.

But as soon as the door opened, a direct interrogation came from inside.

”Where have you been? Why didn’t you come home all night?”

In the living room, Hestia gave a displeased little snort as she looked at the young man in front of her.

”Blame that Polymonos. After I helped patch up his arm, the kid insisted on buying me drinks. Next thing I know, he’s drunk off his ass, holding onto me all night rambling nonsense.”

Lorne yawned, explaining helplessly, his gaze falling to the flickering flame behind Hestia.

The oil in the lamp was almost gone, the wick nearly burned out.

Clearly, someone had stayed up waiting all night.

”Tch. No wonder you stink of wine…”

Hestia wrinkled her nose in distaste, waving her hand dismissively.

”Shoo. Go sleep. And don’t you dare step into my kitchen until you’ve sobered up!”

”Alright, alright…”

Lorne responded weakly, stretching as he placed a box of pastries he has looted from the night’s gathering, onto the table.

And then, with another lazy yawn, he trudged upstairs.

Seeing that exclusive divine offering, Hestia’s gaze flickered.

She immediately thought of a certain grandniece who had been staying over.

After hesitating for a mere three seconds, she snatched up the box of pastries and quickly stashed it into a hidden compartment inside the spice cabinet, a satisfied smile blooming across her face.

”Hmph. At least you have some conscience!”

.

.

”Achoo!”

At that moment, the goddess of the hunt, who was still half-asleep upstairs, let out a violent sneeze as she sat up in bed, stretching her stiff limbs, the dregs of last night’s wine slowly fading from her system.

Hmm...

The skies are clear and bright.

A perfect day for a hunt.

’Where shall I go today?’

Artemis curled her lips, a soft, contented smile blooming on her face.

Unknowingly, she had already begun to grow accustomed to, and even fond of, this life among mortals.

Even looking forward to the days to come.

It was a feeling...completely different from life on Olympus.

(End of Chapter)