Chapter 148
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: The Opening of the Banquet
-----------------------------------------------------------------
As the sky blazed in a beautiful crimson glow, the fire of the great hearth consecrated by Hestia rose up, illuminating everything around it. From afar, the rich aroma of wine and the cheers of the festival began to waft in.
Honorably invited to Chiron’s sanctuary, the kings and princes forgot their authority and carefully concealed themselves in the shade of the trees.
“What’s this? Why is everyone hiding?”
“Shh, keep quiet. The stars of the show today aren’t us.”
“And don’t you see the ones coming over there?”
The god who brought today’s main stars loved all who shared drinks together regardless of status, but those taking the seats of honor were beings who far surpassed the powers of the mortal world.
-Boom! Boom! Boom!
The first to appear were the one-eyed giants who shook the earth with their steps—the Cyclopes, the first master smiths and teachers of Hephaestus, who had forged weapons for the three great gods.
“No, no! That kid needs a spear, I’m telling you!”
Brontes, the Thunder Smith, who had tempered Zeus’s lightning bolt with the roar of heavenly thunder, lightning, and the first waves of the deep Styx.
“A spear’s boring! Look at that form—he took on fifty men with just a sword by himself!”
Steropes, the Lightning Smith, who had forged Poseidon’s trident with the ocean’s tidal waves, the earth’s roar, and the icy waters of Cocytus.
“Shut up, all of you—we need to take his measurements first. I’ve already prepped the rough mold!”
Arges, the Bright Smith, who had shaped Hades’s helm from the echoes of the underworld and the shadows of Tartarus, using the purest essence of the transparent Lethe.
The majesty of the Cyclops smiths settling into their seats one by one under the lead of these three leaders was so overwhelming that even kings and heroes dared not approach.
“Terrifying.”
“Now you see why I said we should steer clear?”
To avoid any mishaps from drunken brawls harming the guests, the massive giants had used their own powers to shrink their bodies to just a bit larger than ordinary humans.
Even so, the divine presence of these smith gods, who retained the full might of the ancient titans, felt like standing before molten lava.
-Whoooosh!
-Hahaha!
-Hee hee hee hee!
As the kings marveled at the Cyclopes’ grandeur, laughter from men and women drifted in amid the winds stroking their heads.
Lifting their gazes to the treetops, they saw beautiful women with enormous wings in place of arms, dancing through the air while embracing their lovers.
“The winds and their lovers have arrived.”
“Oh... how mystical...”
The four Anemoi who commanded the winds, along with their paramours the storm goddesses Harpies, frolicked joyfully through the skies, cooling the midsummer heat.
With the ancient master craftsmen and wind gods dancing from the very start, the human kings were entranced when gods, nymphs, and spirits began gathering one by one, finding their seats.
Was this truly the splendor of Olympus on high?
As the kings were captivated by the scene that made mortal authority seem trivial, a bold voice burst into hearty laughter from afar.
“Uwahahaha! Good, I’ve rounded them all up!”
“Perfect. Let’s toss one on each empty spot over there and get ready.”
A massive youth who could stand toe-to-toe with the Cyclopes, and in stark contrast, a slender, beautiful white-haired man who could almost pass for a woman.
The great hero Heracles, whom no one could fail to revere, and Asclepius, son of Apollo, famed as a god among gods.
The kings, who had met them before, rose joyfully to greet them but soon spotted the enormous load on Heracles’s shoulder and quietly turned away.
“Ughhh...”
“Wh-what is this madness...?”
Like a farmer hauling a mountain of grain, over five hundred humans were stacked precariously atop Heracles’s shoulders, swaying with each step.
Their astonishment at his miraculous sense of balance and staggering strength was short-lived.
-Uwhahaha!
“Well done! Heracles!”
-Whoooosh!
Gods and spirits applauded enthusiastically as he tossed his comrades onto seats one by one, like a farmer sowing seeds or juggling balls.
“...No matter how many times I see it, it’s just staggering.”
What was staggering, exactly?
Heracles hurling a hundred-man army like seeds or sports?
Or the gods and goddesses giggling in delight at the sight?
No one present had the guts to voice the question aloud.
In any case, as the guests filled the seats and quenched their thirst with pre-feast wine and fruits brought by Karyklo and the nymphs, a group of women emerged from one edge of the forest.
Each was breathtakingly beautiful, but the red-haired woman striding confidently at the front was so alluring she made the banquet’s clamor fade away.
The army of valiant women who had forged today’s heroic battles—the most proud and warrior-like in defeat.
The great warrior Atalanta, whom gods and goddesses called Two Spears, and her warband had arrived.
As all eyes in the banquet hall turned to them in an instant, Atalanta met the gazes head-on from the forefront, flashing a confident smile as she thrust her fist toward the sky.
-Kwaaaang!
At that moment, a crimson aura lit up the heavens.
As the great bard Orpheus had sung, all cheered at Atalanta’s feats that had adorned the battle dubbed the Dance of Night and the Red Star.
-Atalanta! Atalanta! Atalanta!
“Ooooh! Aura! Aura! To think I’d live to see this!”
“I wasn’t seeing things! A heroine born who surpassed Perseus and Bellerophon in a woman’s body!”
“She’s a spear.”
“Nonsense—she fights with fists, so sword fits better.”
“Iron gauntlets... maybe snag some adamantite...”
As immortals and mortals alike praised her beauty and prowess, Atalanta calmly accepted it and led her group to their seats.
Then, from the opposite side of the forest, groups of men arrived in twos and threes.
Unlike Atalanta’s bold assembly of women warriors or triumphant mercenaries, these men laughed and chatted arm-in-arm, looking like ordinary young lads.
“Theseus... no, Jason and his comrades, I suppose.”
Theseus’s army, the spark of the heroic battles.
Yet among them, the fifty warriors who had risen last to face that savage, mighty black storm.
Though all felled by their overwhelming foe, the great defeated general and his comrades—whose valor none could deny—took their seats amid cheerful welcomes.
“Come to think of it, Theseus is missing.”
“Tch, he’s got reason to be ashamed. Couldn’t get his head together till the end, despite leading them.”
“I’ve gained new respect for Iolcos’s Jason, honestly. Even I’d crumple after three rounds of that brutality.”
Not quite Atalanta’s frontal charge through Gaia’s wrath, but Jason and his warriors’ desperate final assault—rising amid screams as defeat and death loomed—had captivated countless onlookers.
“Boreas, Boreas. Guess what I overheard earlier?”
“Podarge, Podarge. What juicy gossip has my little birdie heard to get you so excited?”
“Those guys—Jason and his merry band. They’re going to learn the sword from the black storm that beat them!”
“Zephyrus, is that true?”
“Flora. Any true man can’t help but yearn to train under a mighty warrior. I’d rather praise them for regretting their weakness and seeking knowledge.”
The swiftest wind gods and their lovers welcomed them with cool breezes, anticipating what paths they’d tread.
With the final protagonists arrived and Hestia’s great hearth filled to bursting, one king voiced a question.
“By the way, where are the gods?”
“The gods? Ah! You mean the mighty Twelve Olympians?”
The most noble of noble guests here.
The great Twelve Olympians, whom all yearned to approach and speak with, were nowhere in sight.
“Tsk tsk tsk, first time at a bash like this?”
“Ah?! Y-yes! Indeed! Brontes, sir! It’s my first time at the gods’ feast today—what an honor!”
Hearing this, the massive Cyclops—who’d approached unnoticed—chuckled heartily and wagged a finger.
“My cousins are already here.”
“Pardon?”
In Dionysus’s revels, distinctions of status, gender, and age melted away.
Yet fearing mortals might cower before the great gods, Dionysus had made one request of those divine guests.
To refrain from their divine auras during his feast, so his worshippers and revelers wouldn’t feel burdened.
“So, have a blast today—but watch yourself. One slip, and you might wake tomorrow as a stag or rooster.”
“Y-yes, sir! Thank you!”
After clapping the bowing king’s shoulder, Brontes returned to his seat with a wine jar.
“Oh. Ooooh! A god touched me!”
“Lucky bastard. I was gonna ask for a handshake.”
A great ancient god had personally patted him—all envied the king as commotion stirred.
“Sniff sniff. What’s that fragrance?”
“Did Karyklo open the wine?”
As all sniffed the mood-lifting aroma, lively music followed, and hundreds of footsteps began shaking the ground.
-Rumble rumble!
-Hee hee hee hee!
-Ting-a-ling~ Ting-a-ling!
-Kee-yaah!
The joyous march tickling ears and noses.
What did it herald?
No one present was ignorant.
As all rose to greet the banquet’s lord, a massive crash echoed from beyond the trees.
-Crash! Clang!
“Kyaaah!”
A leopard-led golden chariot leaped over the treetops amid earth-shaking booms.
“Ooh! Lord Dionysus’s chariot!”
“Mmm! This wine scent—it’s divine!”
“But... isn’t that thing kinda... off?”
Covered in grapevines like Apollo’s sky-chariot, it soared with rich wine aromas—but alas, the leopards pulling it lacked the steeds’ knack for flight.
“Huh? Huh?”
“That’s heading right for us...?”
Unlike its stylish launch, the vine-wrapped chariot traced a gentle arc toward the hearth.
The disastrous sight stunned the entire banquet.
“Heeey! Heads up, everybodyyy!!”
A drunken soprano scream rang out, and a massive, wine-scented meteor crashed into the feast.
-Kudangtang! Boom boom! Crunch!
“Uwahhh!”
“By Zeus’s beard!”
“Whoops! Dionysus, again!”
Gods and spirits flew skyward, kings and heroes dove aside.
The already drunk leopards rampaged excitedly through the feast, while Cyclopes closed their single eyes and sighed.
“Aaaack! Sorry! Get outta the way! Euaack! Calm down a bit!”
Golden curls, flushed beautiful face—a handsome man dangling from the reins of the wildly intoxicated leopards.
A male god of beauty rivaling Aphrodite, who hid goat horns in his hair.
The ecstatic shepherd who brought intoxication, the craftsman brewing the sweetest wine.
The uproarious Wine God Dionysus had arrived.