‘It’s really dangerous…’
The eyes of Dionysus dimmed. He collapsed on Eutostea.
“I think I’m drunk…”
“Dionysus!”
Eutostea grabbed him. With a sullen look on her face, Mariad and Eonia, who were watching from the sidelines, supported his falling body. With his eyes tightly closed as if in a dream, Dionysus panted.
The Moussa came huddled up and looked at Apollo lying on the marble floor. He was also in the midst of slumber with his lips slightly open.
He’s not dead, right? The Moussa, who approached the two gods and looked at them, covered their eyes with their hands. However, they could see everything peeping through their spread-out middle and index fingers. The crotches of the male gods sprang up: both Apollo and Dionysus.
The Moussa didn’t bother to tell this fact to Eutostea.
Holding her hand which didn’t seem to be stopping the overflow of alcohol anytime soon, Eutostea thought, “I don’t know what mess this is.”
Mariad dragged Dionysus by biting him on his shoulder. Eonia took on Apollo. The two deities, who were in a state of disability, were dragged out of the assembly hall by the pair of leopards into the inner room in order to save them from drowning before Eutostea made more mess.
“Miss Eutostea! I thought of a way!”
One of the Moussa, who was watching the gurgling of alcohol from their hand, raised their arm up and offered their opinion. The Moussa were not affected greatly. Having watched Apollo and Dionysus fall to this pitiful state upon drinking Eutostea’s mead, they were relatively fine as they kept to the sidelines. Of course, some of the weaker ones were lost in the strong aroma of alcohol.
The five Moussa, who gathered around Eutostea, knew about the dangers of the liquor spewing from her hand and helped her raise her arm to shoot it as far away as possible as if they were dealing with harmful substances.
The beautiful black-haired warrior who played the lira for Dionysus said, “Water and alcohol are similar in properties, so the river god will help!”
“But Lord Dionysus, has ended up that way too?” Eutostea asked skeptically because she didn’t trust her.
“Maybe it affected him because it’s a different kind of alcohol. Of course, we’ve never seen Lord Dionysus so drunk. Miss Eutostea may not know, but our temple is on an island floating on the Pactolus River. The god of the Pactolus River has purified Dionysus’ power several times before. When the human king, who turned everything he touched into gold, begged Dionysus to fix his hands, Dionysus told him to go up the river and wash his hands with water. Why don’t you go ask just in case?”
It was a story she heard through the grapevine. She thought it was just a myth, but now she’s the priest of Dionysus, and she’s been using Apollo as a woodcutter, and even producing alcohol from her hand. The unrealistic suggestion that washing with river water will heal anything sounded most plausible to her.
Eutostea made a decision still slightly covering her hand.
“Let’s go.”
She called up a leopard from the inner room and climbed onto him.
Eonia didn’t show any signs of hardship bearing five Moussa at once and moved as lightly as the wind.
The two predators ran past the forest path with ease.
Already knowing the fastest way out of the labyrinth of clustered trees into the riverside, the forest path quickly disappeared and a round gravel patch came into view.
The smell of the refreshing water was something Eutostea most definitely needed as she was dazed by the still spilling out alcohol which never stopped all the way from the temple. Of course, Eutostea, the person concerned, was not much affected by her drink, as if she were just dripping water. The liquor stream has weakened. But still, she aimed her palm as far as possible, and got off the leopard.
The clear waves clapped as they met the riverbank.
“God of the Pactolus River.”
Though upstream, the river was as wide and deep as ten adults lined up with open arms. In addition, the flow of water was very fast. There was even a whirlpool in the middle of the river. It was an unusual river to look at.
The muddy river washed ashore creating small waves.
The god of the river was a gray-haired old man with a mustache down to his knees. He emerged out of the water, riding on the back of a white cow.
Eutostea bent one knee in a huff.
‘It’s really dangerous…’
The eyes of Dionysus dimmed. He collapsed on Eutostea.
“I think I’m drunk…”
“Dionysus!”
Eutostea grabbed him. With a sullen look on her face, Mariad and Eonia, who were watching from the sidelines, supported his falling body. With his eyes tightly closed as if in a dream, Dionysus panted.
The Moussa came huddled up and looked at Apollo lying on the marble floor. He was also in the midst of slumber with his lips slightly open.
He’s not dead, right? The Moussa, who approached the two gods and looked at them, covered their eyes with their hands. However, they could see everything peeping through their spread-out middle and index fingers. The crotches of the male gods sprang up: both Apollo and Dionysus.
The Moussa didn’t bother to tell this fact to Eutostea.
Holding her hand which didn’t seem to be stopping the overflow of alcohol anytime soon, Eutostea thought, “I don’t know what mess this is.”
Mariad dragged Dionysus by biting him on his shoulder. Eonia took on Apollo. The two deities, who were in a state of disability, were dragged out of the assembly hall by the pair of leopards into the inner room in order to save them from drowning before Eutostea made more mess.
“Miss Eutostea! I thought of a way!”
One of the Moussa, who was watching the gurgling of alcohol from their hand, raised their arm up and offered their opinion. The Moussa were not affected greatly. Having watched Apollo and Dionysus fall to this pitiful state upon drinking Eutostea’s mead, they were relatively fine as they kept to the sidelines. Of course, some of the weaker ones were lost in the strong aroma of alcohol.
The five Moussa, who gathered around Eutostea, knew about the dangers of the liquor spewing from her hand and helped her raise her arm to shoot it as far away as possible as if they were dealing with harmful substances.
The beautiful black-haired warrior who played the lira for Dionysus said, “Water and alcohol are similar in properties, so the river god will help!”
“But Lord Dionysus, has ended up that way too?” Eutostea asked skeptically because she didn’t trust her.
“Maybe it affected him because it’s a different kind of alcohol. Of course, we’ve never seen Lord Dionysus so drunk. Miss Eutostea may not know, but our temple is on an island floating on the Pactolus River. The god of the Pactolus River has purified Dionysus’ power several times before. When the human king, who turned everything he touched into gold, begged Dionysus to fix his hands, Dionysus told him to go up the river and wash his hands with water. Why don’t you go ask just in case?”
It was a story she heard through the grapevine. She thought it was just a myth, but now she’s the priest of Dionysus, and she’s been using Apollo as a woodcutter, and even producing alcohol from her hand. The unrealistic suggestion that washing with river water will heal anything sounded most plausible to her.
Eutostea made a decision still slightly covering her hand.
“Let’s go.”
She called up a leopard from the inner room and climbed onto him.
Eonia didn’t show any signs of hardship bearing five Moussa at once and moved as lightly as the wind.
The two predators ran past the forest path with ease.
Already knowing the fastest way out of the labyrinth of clustered trees into the riverside, the forest path quickly disappeared and a round gravel patch came into view.
The smell of the refreshing water was something Eutostea most definitely needed as she was dazed by the still spilling out alcohol which never stopped all the way from the temple. Of course, Eutostea, the person concerned, was not much affected by her drink, as if she were just dripping water. The liquor stream has weakened. But still, she aimed her palm as far as possible, and got off the leopard.
The clear waves clapped as they met the riverbank.
“God of the Pactolus River.”
Though upstream, the river was as wide and deep as ten adults lined up with open arms. In addition, the flow of water was very fast. There was even a whirlpool in the middle of the river. It was an unusual river to look at.
The muddy river washed ashore creating small waves.
The god of the river was a gray-haired old man with a mustache down to his knees. He emerged out of the water, riding on the back of a white cow.
Eutostea bent one knee in a huff.
