Night gradually deepened.
A cool breeze swept through the stream valley, and the bright bonfire danced joyfully in the darkness.
With the addition of fresh ingredients and seasonings, more delicious food was quickly grilled to completion, and the gods attending the feast ate to their hearts' content.
And Lorne, as the God of Wine, also took the opportunity to bring out his newly brewed grape wine, sharing it with the two chief gods as well as the surrounding Nymphs and Muses.
As for this new type of beverage called "wine", Apollo was initially disdainful of it.
However, with his sister Artemis strongly recommending it, he could not very well embarrass her in public, so he reluctantly took a few sips.
After a few cups went down, the crisp yet mellow taste and the wonderful sensation of light intoxication made the God of Light involuntarily close the mouth that had been ready to criticize, and the frequency with which he raised his cup increased accordingly.
Although he harbored quite a few grievances toward a certain eyesore, as an art god who held himself in high esteem, his taste was still impeccable.
What was more, even if he wanted to pick a fight, the Nymphs and Muses beside him, whose faces were already flushed from drinking, would not listen to any advice.
After three to five cups slid down their throats, the goddesses who were tasting fine wine for the first time gradually became a little tipsy, their gazes hazy, and their behavior and attitudes far more unrestrained and bold.
Among them, the ones who changed the most were undoubtedly the nine Muses, who always maintained elegance in public.
Under the catalysis of divine wine, the nine graceful maidens indulged themselves freely.
At times, they paired up in twos and threes, dancing wildly in front of the bonfire; at times, they raised their wine cups and sang loudly in off-key voices; at times, they laughed and played around with the surrounding Nymphs.
For a moment, garments fluttered as patches of snow-white skin were revealed in the interplay of skirts and ribbons, exuding a hazy allure that was extremely pleasing to the eye.
Lorne leaned against the bonfire, watching the beautiful scene before him with great interest.
With a bit of malicious amusement, he even gave the Atalanta in his arms a cup as well.
Amid the teasing laughter of a certain unscrupulous god, the little girl, after making a ruckus for a while, collapsed into sleep with a flushed little face, bringing even more joy to the onlookers.
However, amidst the lively and heated atmosphere, Apollo's expression gradually grew rather unpleasant, especially dissatisfied with the nine Muse goddesses under his command, who were indulging themselves so freely.
As the God of Art, he firmly believed that art should be noble and beautiful.
Not something that relied on graceful figures and exquisite voices to perform coquettish dances and sing off-key songs, recklessly fooling around like this.
They were simply defiling the word "art"!
—It was all this guy's fault!
The God of Light glanced at the instigator beside him, feeling displeased in his heart.
Sensing that familiar gaze filled with hostility and disdain landing on him, Lorne smiled indifferently and continued to do as he pleased, raising his wine cup again to sincerely cheer for the Muses dancing on the field.
The original form of art was merely a way for life to entertain itself.
There was no distinction between high and low, noble or base.
Likewise, the nine Muse goddesses born from art were, in the beginning, by no means the dignified and reserved elegant ladies they appear to be now.
Hesychius recorded in the "Greek Lexicon" that the Muse goddesses were once called "mad" or "storm-like".
Because they were once dominated by the wine god Dionysus and were also his companions during his wanderings, the Muse goddesses were shaped into wild and crazed delinquent girls who would think about tearing someone apart at the slightest provocation, somewhat like a primitive version of the Maenads.
Therefore, Dionysus, who led the frenzied and delirious Muse goddesses, was given the title [Mousagetes], meaning "Leader of the Muses".
Later, because the Muse goddesses needed to be reshaped, they came under the dominion of Apollo, the god who governed the sun and the arts.
Thus, the title Mousagetes passed to Apollo, who believed that the Muses' wild and crude behavior did not suit his gentle and refined temperament.
However, the Muses were highly malleable, and under Apollo's leadership, they became noble in sentiment and elegant in conduct, just like him.
But their nature never truly changed.
They would still have moments of anger, moments of indulgence brought on by external joy.
They were not dolls or cultural symbols to be shaped at will, but, in the secular sense, a group of beautiful, elegant, and vibrant young goddesses of literature and art.
So, when Lorne offered them fine wine, and they drank it down, these Muses, who had been suppressed under Apollo's banner for a long time, took advantage of the drunken mood to reveal their original selves.
And amid this pure joy, the smiling God of Wine was clearly far more approachable than the God of Light, who wore a sour expression and was always ready to conduct artistic criticism.
In fact, one particularly bold Muse even wanted to pull Lorne up from his seat and dance passionately with him.
However, when she saw the Huntress Goddess nearby, who was idly toying with a sharp arrowhead while wearing a subtle smile, as well as the God of Light whose face had turned as dark as the bottom of a pot, thunder faintly brewing between his brows, that bold Muse sobered up by more than half in an instant and hurriedly retreated in fright.
So, the NTR road is indeed long and arduous.
Lorne, who had witnessed everything, muttered to himself inwardly.
"Boom!"
Just as the festive atmosphere of the banquet was growing ever more intense, a dull explosion came from the dense forest at the far end of the valley, sending dust and black smoke billowing high into the air.
At once, the noise on the field came to an abrupt halt.
The gods' expressions tightened, and they instinctively revealed their divine weapons, entering a state of alert.
"Don't panic!"
Lorne raised his head to look in the direction of the explosion, pressed both hands down in the air, and explained in a deep voice.
"It seems like the magic traps I set up outside were triggered?"
"?"
The gods stared at the wine god before them in astonishment.
Lorne smiled and said, "Didn't we run into centaurs trying to raid the camp on the way here? I was worried that something strange might crawl out of the mountains tonight and crash into everyone, so I buried some magic traps around the perimeter, just in case."
To be honest, he really wanted to complain about the vigilance of these Nymphs and Muses.
They had set up camp without even placing a single sentry or magic trap.
If it were not for their considerable strength and the backing of two chief gods, the mountain folk and magical beasts of Arcadia would more or less have let them experience the locals' enthusiastic hospitality.
The centaur tribe that had almost reached the camp earlier was the best example.
While it did not constitute a serious threat, being harassed all night would definitely ruin the mood.
However, while Lorne was criticizing them inwardly, the Nymphs and Muses heard another key point in his words, and huge question marks popped up in their minds.
Some?
"Boom boom boom boom!"
At the same time, as if to verify their suspicions, a series of explosions rang out from the distant valley entrance.
There were at least several hundred of them.
Among them, there was even the faint sound of a miserable monster's scream.
Now, the looks the Nymphs and Muses gave the wine god before them gradually became a little strange.
And at this moment, Lorne, who was the focus of everyone's attention, pointed toward the valley entrance shrouded in thick smoke and offered a friendly reminder.
"Well, judging by the looks of it, they seem to be coming for us.
Not wild beasts…"
Those four-legged animals?
For a moment, the gods thought of this possibility.
Their expressions turned cold, and with the alcohol surging up, they grabbed their divine weapons and swiftly moved to encircle the valley entrance.
Tsk tsk, how should one put it… truly hard-headed.
Lorne sighed at Arcadia's simple and honest folk customs while silently mourning for those unlucky fellows who had run straight into the line of fire.
And a quarter of an hour later, the Nymphs skilled in hunting dragged a struggling, constantly begging-for-mercy, strange creature to the firelight in front of the camp using a net.
"Ahh~! Stop! Stop! Don't hit me! If you keep hitting me, I'm really going to die…"
That creature had a human head and torso, goat legs, horns, and ears.
It was clutching its head with both hands, letting out bleating cries like a goat.
Many patches of its fur were scorched, and it had even taken an arrow in the butt, looking extremely miserable.
When Artemis, who was sitting by the bonfire, saw the captive's peculiar appearance under the firelight, she could not help but freeze slightly.
"Pan? Why is it you?"
Pan was the shepherd god in Greek mythology, the son of the divine messenger Hermes.
He governed shepherds, nature, mountains, and the countryside, accompanied by nature Nymphs, and belonged to Arcadia's nature god system.
According to legend, his existence was extremely ancient, having already appeared during the Titan War.
In Greek mythology, the half-man, half-goat Pan symbolized creativity, music, poetry, and sexuality, while also being a sign of panic and nightmares.
However, this thing was extremely lecherous by nature, often hiding in bushes to wait for nature Nymphs to pass by before rushing out to frantically court them, much like a habitual mad pervert.
As a result, his reputation among the gods, especially female deities, was not very good.
"Lady Artemis?"
At this moment, upon hearing that somewhat familiar voice, Pan in the net nearly cried tears of excitement and hurriedly explained.
"I heard that a group of extraordinary hunters had come to the mountains and forests of Arcadia, so I specially came to pay a visit.
But I accidentally triggered the traps outside, and before I could even react, I was captured by the Nymphs who popped out of the woods…"
As he spoke, the half-man, half-goat Pan glanced at the ferocious-looking Nymphs around him, baring his teeth as he begged Artemis for help.
"My lady, please tell them to stop. If they don't stop soon, I won't have much good skin left…"
Because they had been drinking, these hunting Nymphs showed no restraint in their blows, punching and kicking this unidentified creature that had intruded near the camp, venting their overly abundant energy along the way.
Seeing that the intruder was Pan, the son of Hermes, who had once diligently gifted her a batch of hunting dogs, Artemis suddenly found herself both amused and exasperated.
She subconsciously raised her hand, intending to order the Nymph attendants to untie the net.
"What? You don't walk the main road when you come to visit?"
At this moment, accompanied by a casual tease, Lorne walked forward with a grin and curiously poked Pan's goat horn.
The magic traps he had set up were naturally not placed blatantly on the main road, blocking their own entrances and exits.
They were mostly hidden in obscure corners.
Hearing his words, Artemis slightly raised her delicate brows, lowered her raised hand, and looked at Pan with a bit more scrutiny.
"In these mountains of Arcadia, I roam around dozens of times every day. When have I ever cared about main roads or side paths? Besides, I was originally following the firelight and walking forward normally.
But halfway there, I heard the beautiful singing of several Muses. I got too absorbed for a moment and accidentally turned into the forest beside the path…"
Pan hurriedly pleaded his case, slipping in a few flattering remarks.
After finishing the first part of his story, his tone suddenly changed, and he accused bitterly.
"Who knew someone had set up so many magic traps in there? I nearly got blown to bits right at my own doorstep."
Burying so many magic traps right at someone's doorstep and blowing up the homeowner did seem a bit improper.
For a moment, the Nymphs and Muses all turned their gazes in unison toward a certain instigator.
(End of chapter)