Dionysus jerked off the sly hand that dared to touch his priest.
“Do you not believe in your sister’s curse at all, you son of a bitch? She’ll never be happy next to you. And you still want your name to come out of this woman’s mouth? Do you think one name will break the curse? Do you think that’s the end, you asshole?”
Apollo only glared at him and did not reply to his words which did not lack truth.
Eutostea slowly let go of his arm. It was a pity that her warmth was going away, so Apollo clenched his hand into a fist.
Eutostea turned her back on him. She did not know what was going on, but she had to stop her god first because the fireball that was burning like the sun in Apollo’s hand was really not an illusion.
“Lord Dionysus. Please calm down. He’s the first guest to visit the temple.”
“…..”
Eutostea looked at Dionysus with solemn eyes.
‘You have more to say to me, don’t you?’ her eyes seemed to say.
As the saying went, “a guilty heart needs no accuser,”
Dionysus bit his tongue and lowered his fist.
He forgot that Eutostea was there and spoke of Artemis’ curse because he was loose-lipped. Now he could not take back what he had already said, and he could foretell that Eutostea would certainly question him about it afterward.
The spirits of the two gods, who rushed at each other like angry bulls, were dampened at once.
The Moussa, who were wary of others, gathered around them with soundless footsteps.
“Anyway, I want you to release your enmity outside the temple. As the only priest of the temple, I felt I should protect it from becoming a fire pit.”
Apollo covered his hand muttering a curse.
Eutostea looked between him and Dionysus. She wasn’t doing magic. But the two gods were waiting for her words as gently as a pair of puppies with their tails cast down.
She felt queer.
“If it doesn’t offend you, I’ll go finish my work. It was my turn to set fire to the altar bowl.”
“Your leg is still healing, are you going to keep pushing it?” asked Apollo
Apollo cast a reproachful glance at Dionysus. Dionysus rapped his ears with the impression of a dog barking.
“I’m the one who gets pushed around. If you don’t know, just shut up. Of course, I do it because I want to. Do you need firewood, Eutostea? I’ll bring it for you,” said Dionysus.
The war of nerves between the two gods was again centered on Eutostea.
As Dionysus rolled along, Apollo first bent his knee at the foot of Eutostea.
“No. You dropped it because of me, didn’t you? This one is on me, so I’ll carry it.”
And he quickly moved his hands and held the firewood in his arms.
‘You talked so big just to do that?’ Dionysus rebuked Apollo with his eyes seeing him in a pathetic light.
“Hey, is that going to work? Eutostea. I chopped up a lot yesterday, so you can use as much as you want. Should I carry it in a cart? The bowl is huge. The amount he’s holding isn’t enough to fill it all,” Dionysus spoke triumphantly, folded the hems of his robes, and swept the firewood away.
Eutostea looked from one to the other and bit her lips. She didn’t know what the hell this was about.
But the only sure thing was…
“Dionysus. You have to cut down the weeds.”
The curved back of Dionysus, which had been pouring firewood on his folded clothes like a dustbin, stopped.
“The sickle is broken. Well, who broke it? So you’re going to leave the temple garden covered with weeds? No, that’s not it. Should I pick it with my hands? Can you show me in action, not in words?”
Somehow, Dionysus could hear Eutostea’s silent reprimands in his ears.
Dionysus went back to pick up the sickle’s head, unable to put two words together properly. Eutostea reached out to Apollo, who stood still beside her.
“?”
Does she mean hold hands? He contemplated, looking at her with agonizing red eyes.
“Lord Apollo, I’ll take the firewood with me, could you give it to me and help me with something else?”
When only his name was called, Apollo’s shoulders rose noticeably.
She was confident.
There’s no reason not to fully make use of a good worker in front of her.
“Dionysus worked hard yesterday, but it’s not enough for the winter. Could you cut the trees for me?” Eutostea asked as politely as possible.
But of course, she couldn’t help it if he refused.
Besides, Apollo was already a baitfish.
“Fine.”
‘Fine. It’s because you called my name.’
His words had double meanings.
As if waiting for him to get away, the Moussa smiled brightly and offered an axe to the sun god.
“Has he gone off his rocker?” Dionysus muttered as he saw Apollo, who was smiling after receiving the axe.
Because Eutostea made him work, and Apollo accepted, Dionysus had no excuse to kick him out. Still, there was still a faint hope.
‘That arrogant bastard should try out physical labor. Even if he did it voluntarily, his godly hands which were only used to carrying a bow might grow weary and he would give up in no time. Or he’d be disgusted by Eutostea, who made him do this to himself.’
Dionysus wished it were the latter.
But the situation did not go his way.
Dionysus jerked off the sly hand that dared to touch his priest.
“Do you not believe in your sister’s curse at all, you son of a bitch? She’ll never be happy next to you. And you still want your name to come out of this woman’s mouth? Do you think one name will break the curse? Do you think that’s the end, you asshole?”
Apollo only glared at him and did not reply to his words which did not lack truth.
Eutostea slowly let go of his arm. It was a pity that her warmth was going away, so Apollo clenched his hand into a fist.
Eutostea turned her back on him. She did not know what was going on, but she had to stop her god first because the fireball that was burning like the sun in Apollo’s hand was really not an illusion.
“Lord Dionysus. Please calm down. He’s the first guest to visit the temple.”
“…..”
Eutostea looked at Dionysus with solemn eyes.
‘You have more to say to me, don’t you?’ her eyes seemed to say.
As the saying went, “a guilty heart needs no accuser,”
Dionysus bit his tongue and lowered his fist.
He forgot that Eutostea was there and spoke of Artemis’ curse because he was loose-lipped. Now he could not take back what he had already said, and he could foretell that Eutostea would certainly question him about it afterward.
The spirits of the two gods, who rushed at each other like angry bulls, were dampened at once.
The Moussa, who were wary of others, gathered around them with soundless footsteps.
“Anyway, I want you to release your enmity outside the temple. As the only priest of the temple, I felt I should protect it from becoming a fire pit.”
Apollo covered his hand muttering a curse.
Eutostea looked between him and Dionysus. She wasn’t doing magic. But the two gods were waiting for her words as gently as a pair of puppies with their tails cast down.
She felt queer.
“If it doesn’t offend you, I’ll go finish my work. It was my turn to set fire to the altar bowl.”
“Your leg is still healing, are you going to keep pushing it?” asked Apollo
Apollo cast a reproachful glance at Dionysus. Dionysus rapped his ears with the impression of a dog barking.
“I’m the one who gets pushed around. If you don’t know, just shut up. Of course, I do it because I want to. Do you need firewood, Eutostea? I’ll bring it for you,” said Dionysus.
The war of nerves between the two gods was again centered on Eutostea.
As Dionysus rolled along, Apollo first bent his knee at the foot of Eutostea.
“No. You dropped it because of me, didn’t you? This one is on me, so I’ll carry it.”
And he quickly moved his hands and held the firewood in his arms.
‘You talked so big just to do that?’ Dionysus rebuked Apollo with his eyes seeing him in a pathetic light.
“Hey, is that going to work? Eutostea. I chopped up a lot yesterday, so you can use as much as you want. Should I carry it in a cart? The bowl is huge. The amount he’s holding isn’t enough to fill it all,” Dionysus spoke triumphantly, folded the hems of his robes, and swept the firewood away.
Eutostea looked from one to the other and bit her lips. She didn’t know what the hell this was about.
But the only sure thing was…
“Dionysus. You have to cut down the weeds.”
The curved back of Dionysus, which had been pouring firewood on his folded clothes like a dustbin, stopped.
“The sickle is broken. Well, who broke it? So you’re going to leave the temple garden covered with weeds? No, that’s not it. Should I pick it with my hands? Can you show me in action, not in words?”
Somehow, Dionysus could hear Eutostea’s silent reprimands in his ears.
Dionysus went back to pick up the sickle’s head, unable to put two words together properly. Eutostea reached out to Apollo, who stood still beside her.
“?”
Does she mean hold hands? He contemplated, looking at her with agonizing red eyes.
“Lord Apollo, I’ll take the firewood with me, could you give it to me and help me with something else?”
When only his name was called, Apollo’s shoulders rose noticeably.
She was confident.
There’s no reason not to fully make use of a good worker in front of her.
“Dionysus worked hard yesterday, but it’s not enough for the winter. Could you cut the trees for me?” Eutostea asked as politely as possible.
But of course, she couldn’t help it if he refused.
Besides, Apollo was already a baitfish.
“Fine.”
‘Fine. It’s because you called my name.’
His words had double meanings.
As if waiting for him to get away, the Moussa smiled brightly and offered an axe to the sun god.
“Has he gone off his rocker?” Dionysus muttered as he saw Apollo, who was smiling after receiving the axe.
Because Eutostea made him work, and Apollo accepted, Dionysus had no excuse to kick him out. Still, there was still a faint hope.
‘That arrogant bastard should try out physical labor. Even if he did it voluntarily, his godly hands which were only used to carrying a bow might grow weary and he would give up in no time. Or he’d be disgusted by Eutostea, who made him do this to himself.’
Dionysus wished it were the latter.
But the situation did not go his way.
