The God of Madness, Dionysus (3)

Dionysus stood up once more. The handsome young man from moments ago was gone, replaced by a bloated, sagging-skinned drunkard. "How dare you! How dare you, you blasphemer!" Purple mana flashed in his eyes, burning with rage. Illusion, confusion, and then madness—these were his specialties. He had been using illusions to hide his debauched, alcohol-ruined form behind the guise of a beautiful youth.

"To think you would dare look upon the true form of a god." The shock of Sisyphus’s blow had shattered his illusion. "It seems you won't come to your senses until you receive divine punishment. Who are you, anyway!" The God of Madness screamed at the black-haired Spartan. Sisyphus simply tilted his head in response.

"Cassandra, stop drinking so much. You’ll end up like that."

"You... there are things you should say, and things you absolutely shouldn't."

"Hmm, I apologize. That was a bit harsh."

"Blasphemers...!" Dionysus swirled with purple mana, his appearance shifting back into that of a handsome youth. "Let's see how many hits it takes for you to answer me." Sisyphus stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. He noticed the Minotaur’s mana clinging to the god. 'Why did he inherit the traits of the Bull King? Wasn't the subjugation handled by Theseus?'

Theseus stepped up, aligning her stance with his. She asked, "Are you planning to kill him?"

"I need to clear up a few questions first."

"We're in agreement. He seems like the type to answer questions quite diligently."

Dionysus shouted, "Are you heroes as well? Who on earth are you! You who conquered the labyrinth!"

"Was it not written in the register?" Sisyphus clenched his fist. "The name is Wilson."

Boom! Sisyphus and Theseus kicked off the ground simultaneously.

'Damn it!' Dionysus pulled a weapon from his robes. A thyrsus—a magic-amplifying staff designed to maximize his illusions. 'High-speed casting...!'

The spell activated before a single circle could be inscribed. A thick, purple mist erupted from Dionysus, and he hid his body within it. 'Ignorant fools. This is why one shouldn't dine with those who don't know how to enjoy pleasure. Just like that woman, Athena!'

Dionysus was a strange existence in Olympus. Unlike the other gods, he was a demigod—a hero by origin. He had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠only been able to sit on the throne of the heavens because Demeter had vacated her seat, leaving a vacancy. He was even discriminated against and persecuted by certain gods due to his penchant for alcohol and debauchery—mostly by Athena, who valued honor, and Apollo, who loved beauty. His actual divinity was low. He had no confidence in winning a physical brawl against a hero who had just subjugated the Minotaur King. His wobbling belly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was proof of that. 'But if they look down on me, they'll be headed straight to the Underworld!'

His mana and spells were that powerful. Whoosh! The mist sprayed across the palace, far denser than what had spread through the city earlier. Regaining his composure, Dionysus puffed out his chest with dignity. "Hahaha, my victory is assured. Try inhaling even a little. You won't just lose your minds; you'll become beasts who have forgotten even how to speak!"

The Spartan named Wilson and Theseus were already within range. This would be the end for the other heroes and the princess he had loathed for not serving him. However, Dionysus didn't know one thing. A hero wearing winged sandals was preparing to run, watching the entire scene in slow motion.

'The princess, the three members of Theseus's party, Cassandra, and four palace guards who are still breathing.'

The thick clouds were encroaching with a scale and speed more threatening than an explosion spell. Survival would be impossible if they touched it. Clea jumped into the lethal, poisonous fog without hesitation. 'They must mean for me to handle the others.' The thought that he trusted her made her feel a little happy.

Crack! Clea began to run, accompanied by sparks. The mist spread bit by bit. First, she hugged the princess, who was closest to the range and in the most danger, and ran out of the palace. She was heavier than expected. Was it a lack of muscle? She decided she would have to ask Sisyphus to teach her more about working out. Thinking this, she moved far away from the palace.

'Come to think of it, if I leave them like this, they'll fly far away because of the speed.'Whoosh! She went back into the palace to find beds. King Minos must have been frugal; the beds were small. In the end, she had to enter the princess's room and pull out two beds. There was a benefit to this. Force is the product of mass and acceleration. Clea, who was accelerating tremendously, could move heavy objects easily without much effort. 'Is this how Sisyphus always feels?' In the time that felt frozen, she felt a strange sense of liberation as she darted here and there.

She pulled out the healer from Theseus's party, then it was the warrior and the mage's turn. They had been so surprised by the mist that they had twisted their bodies and were about to collide. If she hadn't intervened, they would have ended up kissing. 'Weren't they brothers?' It was kind of funny. Clea giggled at them, feeling a bit sorry she couldn't protect their brotherly bond, and dragged them out of the palace one by one.

'Sisyphus is completely inside the mist.' She could see his back earlier, but now he was nowhere to be seen. He must have a plan, right? She decided to trust him. Finally, Cassandra. She had bad karma, so she was last. Her crime: flirting with Sisyphus. The way she had stretched out her palms at the sight of the mist was ridiculous. She was pretty, even when scowling. That made it even more annoying. Remembering what happened in the labyrinth prison, she gave her lips a light flick. Outside the palace, Dionysus's followers were still leading a riot. She played all sorts of pranks that would be fatal to them—shoving the torches they held into their mouths, or lifting her fist to smash it into their noses—and wore a mischievous, gloomy smile.

Crack! With a spark, she finished her acceleration. "Ugh!" "Whoa!" "Kyaa!" The survivors Clea had rescued flew away due to the acceleration and screamed. Everyone hit the soft beds, so there were no injuries. At the same time, Bang! The royal palace exploded in a violent eruption of purple smoke. Everyone was bewildered by the suddenly changed scenery, but they understood the situation when they saw Clea sweating pleasantly.

"Thank you, Odysseus. We survived thanks to you." The mage bowed. Clea wiped her sweat and nodded.

"Ouch, why do my lips hurt? Odysseus, you didn't do something to me, did you?"

"As if. Didn't you get caught badmouthing someone?"

"I don't do cowardly things like that. If I were going to curse, I would have done it to your face." Cassandra grumbled as she stood up. They looked at the palace, now thick with smoke.

"It's a mess."

"Let's leave this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to Theseus and Sisyphus. It's better to suppress the riots in the city. Princess, you agree, right?" Ariadne nodded. "It's shameless of me, but I ask for your help." The heroes began to run together as if they had promised to do so.

Dionysus, hiding in the mist, sensed victory. 'Hahaha, there's no way you can survive in here. It's already been five minutes. Whether you breathe or not, your time is up.' The cloud of madness was his confident specialty. Purple mana was a special ability possessed only by him, even in Olympus. It was a power that deluded and drove mad every living thing it touched. Even other gods would lose their minds if they inhaled this concentration of smoke. There was no way mere heroes could endure it. However.

Step, step.

'What?!' There was the sound of someone walking through the mist nonchalantly. 'Don't tell me that Spartan is holding out?!' That's impossible. No, his brain must be fried, and his body must be moving by spinal reflex. The moment Dionysus believed that—

Whoosh!

A heavy palm appeared through the mist and struck Dionysus's cheek. Slap! "Kuaaak!" Bang, bang, bang. The God of Madness smashed through several palace pillars and was slammed into the wall. In an instant, every joint in his body was shattered. There was no more shameful sight for a god. "Ugh, ugh." His illusion broke again, revealing his hideous form. He wasn't in his right mind. Footsteps were heard again from behind. 'I have to run!'

Dionysus activated his illusion. Voom! In an instant, Dionysus split into dozens. He intended to create phantoms to confuse his enemy. "You're annoying. Which one is real?" He thought he had him. There was no way to distinguish between the clones that acted identically. "I'll just beat them all up." Huh?

Bang bang bang bang!! The man swung his fists. It looked as if his arms had multiplied into dozens, as if he were splitting himself. The phantom clones that were hit vanished one by one. "Hiiik!" Surprised by the sight, Dionysus collapsed to the floor. "Was that the last one? You're lucky." He was stroking his cheek, half of which had been blown away, when he was grabbed by the collar and lifted up.

"Hey, let me ask you something."

"W-what, what is it?"

"Where are those Olympus bastards, and what are they doing that they don't even show their faces?"

"Y-you insolent fool. How are you still sane! My wine should have filled your lungs, your stomach, every single blood vessel!"

"I don't drink. It causes muscle loss."

"My wine isn't something you can just refuse to drink!"

"Hmm." The black-haired man stroked his chin and said, "Your wine drives people mad."

"That's right. I am the God of Madness. The only being with the power to grant humanity rest through madness...!"

Slide. His face moved closer to Dionysus. "Try being trapped in a mountain for ten thousand years. See if a person goes mad or not."

"What? What on earth does that mean..." Dionysus shut his mouth without realizing it. The black eyes of the man in front of him. Deep within them... Goooo...! An abyss of madness he had never seen in his entire life was slowly rising up. What kind of madness was this man hiding inside? He had never seen such an existence in his entire life.

"Just answer the question. Zeus, Hades, Ares. Where are they all?"

"P-permission to ask questions is granted by me. How dare you invade the realm of a god..."

Slap! Crash! Dionysus was hit on the other cheek and flew into the opposite wall. Before he could even come to his senses, Thump, the black-haired man appeared in front of him again.

"Ugh."

"Hermes was a bit more cooperative. Should we try a few more times?"

"W-what did you say...?" Dionysus finally realized. Having descended to the continent, he had heard news of Hermes. He couldn't share it because he couldn't return to the war-torn Olympus, but he knew. Hermes had been subjugated. And by a mere hero at that. And that name was...

"Sisyphus...?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"That's impossible! Weren't you a sinner trapped in Tartarus?!"

"Your tongue is disgustingly long. Are you going to talk, or not?"

Dionysus made ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a choice. He didn't want to meet the same end as Hermes. "The divine palace of Olympus is closed! The Lord God closed the gates himself! So that even the Titans cannot enter!"

"Now you're opening your mouth."

Dionysus continued, trembling. "You know well that Northern Greece is the realm of the gods. Humans can never climb Mount Olympus. The war is taking place far to the north, in the abandoned territories. Olympus has effectively been defeated!"

"Then what were you and Hermes doing down here?"

"Mana, I need mana. Zeus said he needed a massive amount of mana to turn the tide against the Titans. I, I am just a messenger! I absolutely do not know what he is planning to do!"

"Don't lie." Sisyphus flicked his forehead. Dionysus rolled on the floor, scowling. "I-it's the truth. I'm tired of war. Hermes must have felt the same. That's why I returned to peacefully rule my own domain!"

"Then why try to sink the island of Crete? Isn't mana the goal after all?"

"Uh..." Dionysus broke into a cold sweat.

"So you're just Zeus's lackey after all."

"N-no, I was just threatened..."

"Fine. Then I'll make a threat of my own." Sisyphus gripped his arm tightly. "Tell me how to invalidate the oracle. Every time you're slow to answer, we'll do some 'health clapping'."

"Health... clapping?"

Pang! Sisyphus slammed his palm down on Dionysus's hand. A sound like a bomb going off echoed, and Dionysus's wrist spun 360 degrees. "Kieeeek! My hand!"

"Clapping is good for your health. A gift for you, who only eats and drinks. How about one more time?"

"That's enough! I'm already healthy!"

"Your face is still red."

"Healthy! Healthy!" Dionysus shed tears and declared his surrender. "Then let's listen calmly." Sisyphus raised his palm again and asked him.