Chapter 62: Dionysus (6)
If he kept stalling any longer, he himself would go mad again, and the satyrs under the curse might not be able to endure much longer either.
“Right. Hurry before you lose your sanity again. Here—this is a chain to bind your body when you go mad. Once you feel the signal, tie yourself up tightly.”
Dionysus felt deep gratitude toward his teacher, who cared for him until the very last moment.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Having quickly packed all his belongings, Dionysus said farewell to his close friend Ampelos and his mentor Silenus before setting off.
“Please greet the nymphs for me, Ampelos. I have to leave in a hurry, so I can’t say goodbye myself. And thank you, Master. I will surely meet Lady Rhea and overcome this trial.”
Once Dionysus left the forest, he became famous in an instant.
A human walking around bound by thick chains of his own accord—of course that would attract attention.
To mortals, he was known as an amusing, insane human.
But to the gods, he was known as one undergoing Hera’s trial.
And especially since this trial involved drinking the Mad Conqueror concocted by the witch-goddess Circe, the attention was even greater.
Some gods even gambled over Dionysus.
— I bet 100 gold coins that human will end up killed by the gods.
— Huh! Have you forgotten he carries Zeus’s blood? He might be the first to overcome that curse.
— Heh. Then why don’t you place your bet on the opposite side?
— Are you crazy? I like wagers, not losing money.
Of course, most of the gods believed Dionysus would die.
Time passed.
And Dionysus’s story became so famous that even the sea gods and ocean creatures knew of him.
Every time he went mad, he would scream that he would force Poseidon’s sea and Hades’s underworld to kneel before Zeus—hard to ignore such a commotion.
— That madman is getting closer to us, isn’t he?
— Shall we kill him beforehand, then?
— But both Lady Eurynome and Lady Amphitrite are staying quiet…
— Still… he’s never spared anyone who disrespected him before…
More than anything, the more aggressive nymphs and minor gods knew Dionysus was acting this way because of the trial, but they were also thinking: “If not now, when else will we get a chance to kill Zeus’s brat?”
Had Dionysus fully fallen under the control of the Mad Conqueror, he would have taken up arms and charged exactly where his madness told him to.
But fortunately, as a true son of Zeus, even when he went mad, he went mad gracefully—and that was a blessing.
“So you’re saying that demigod has come to seek me?”
“Yes, Lord Poseidon. He says he needs the purest and clearest water.”
Poseidon tilted his head at the nymph’s report.
Strange. Why would someone undergoing that trial need something like that?
Dionysus was known among the gods to be suffering through his trial on land right now. If anything, he should be heading straight toward the goddess Rhea, not leisurely visiting the sea with odd requests…
“So the boy came into the sea, and the nymphs captured him and are playing with him?”
“Yes. Normally, once he regains his sanity, he never even glances at the sea, but suddenly he came charging in with a spear.”
“Tsk. I suppose his mind can’t endure any longer.”
“Yes, it seems that way.”
Now Poseidon understood the situation—and began wondering what to do with Dionysus, who was now likely being toyed with by the sea nymphs.
The simplest option would be to just expel him…
“Psamathe, what do you think?”
Poseidon, troubled, asked Psamathe—his informant and strategist.
“In my opinion, it wouldn’t be bad to observe him personally.”
“And why is that?”
“Because we have three individuals connected to him under our care. And besides… he seems very likely to become a god.”
At Psamathe’s words, Poseidon let out an “Ah!” and recalled those he had forgotten about.
And he was somewhat surprised that Psamathe—the most rational and precise of all the nymphs—had evaluated Dionysus so highly.
Psamathe had always described demigods as “half-finished monkeys,” so for her to evaluate someone this highly was unexpected.
As expected, she lives up to her reputation… Then…
“So it was Semele, Ino, and Melicertes, wasn’t it?”
[TL Note: Changing Melycerus to Melicertes]
“Yes. They should currently be under Calypso’s care.”
Poseidon nodded.
“Well then, I might as well take this chance to see my nephew’s face.”
Soon after—
A curly-haired demigod wearing a purple tunic entered.
To be precise, he was a soon-to-be god, with the divine blood in him stronger than that of most demigods.
“So, why have you come?”
Poseidon asked with mild friendliness, thinking of the boy’s mother and siblings who were supposedly under Calypso.
To him, family of those under his domain mattered more than whether Dionysus might become one of the Twelve Olympians.
The problem was—Dionysus was in no condition to accept Poseidon’s goodwill.
He had gone mad again on his way here, and the madness had sunk deep into his bones.
“Ahh… Poseidon, god of the sea. Feared by all, lord of the waters—I have a proposal for you.”
The curse kept Dionysus in a drunken state.
It granted him both courage and reckless bravado—while paralyzing his reasoning.
What made this curse so vicious was that it used the host’s own brain to judge situations, choosing when to make the host rampage and when to stay quiet.
As a result, Dionysus behaved arrogantly before Poseidon like a drunken fool.
The nymphs and sea creatures spying from the palace recoiled in horror.
— How can he be so disrespectful!
“Your children have no place among the great Olympians, I hear. And neither do you. I shall show you mercy. If you give me the monster Tiamat—said to be capable of producing the purest water in the world—I will ask my father to grant you a seat in Olympus. Originally, I had planned to make you submit under me, but I’ll let that slide!”
And with those absurd words, Dionysus collapsed face-first onto the floor and fell asleep, like a drunk passing out on the street.
Watching all of this, Poseidon was reminded of Ares.
The fact that another being capable of making him feel that same irritation turned out to be Zeus’s son only evoked stunned admiration.
Of course— the boy lying here hadn’t done it intentionally.
“Did he drink on his way here?”
“Yes, he suddenly asked for a few gulps of alcohol. He said he was too scared to stand before you completely sober.”
Poseidon clicked his tongue at the terrifying nature of Circe’s curse.
A living curse that cleverly forced the host to appear as if his misdeeds were of his own doing, leaving no room for excuses or escape—how devious.
“It would be ridiculous to get angry at a madman. Just lock him up until he regains his senses.”
“In which cell should we put him?”
“Hmm… Cell 10. It’s the safest one, isn’t it?”
“Understood.”
“Oh, and we must also find out how that brat knows anything about Tiamat.”
Cell 10—where Dionysus was the only prisoner.
In the silent cell, where only Dionysus’s breathing could be heard, a shadow appeared.
Other than its faint outline, no presence could be sensed.
The figure stopped directly in front of the room where Dionysus lay.
And then—
A water bomb dropped onto Dionysus.
Splaaash!
“Gah!”
Startled awake by the sudden blast of water, Dionysus sprang up and instinctively took a defensive stance.
Ever since leaving Mount Nysa, Dionysus had lived constantly on guard—and his instincts reacted before his mind could.
“Who’s there!”
Just as Dionysus was about to muster his divine power to find whoever had blasted him with the water bomb—
A familiar voice came from outside the prison cell.
“Brother. Brother. It’s me.”
Dionysus frowned, trying to place that familiar voice coming from outside the bars.
I’ve definitely heard that voice before… Who is it?
The figure outside, frustrated that Dionysus was still tense and trying to think instead of recognizing him, shouted louder:
“It’s me—Melicertes!”
The one who entered the cell was indeed Melicertes.
The younger brother—though not related by blood—with whom he had grown up, before being separated while fleeing their father, who had gone mad under Artemis’s curse.
“You’re alive!”
“Yeah. Luckily, Lady Calypso took us in, so we survived.”
Even though he was inside a prison, Dionysus couldn’t help but feel overwhelming joy at seeing the family he had once lost.
He had believed he would never see them again.
“This is truly fortunate. I thought I would never see you or Mother again.”
“Mm. Without Lord Poseidon and Lady Calypso, all of us would’ve died.”
“Yes… I’ve always felt sorry toward you and Mother. If not for Lady Hera’s rage…”
“Save the reunion talk for later—we need to get you out of here first.”
Melicertes insisted that escaping took priority.
He, his mother, and even Semele—who was supposed to be dead—had begged Calypso desperately just to sneak inside.
But they couldn’t stay long.
Dionysus’s trial would begin soon.
Even if his madness could be considered a mitigating factor, the sea held many who despised Zeus’s offspring after the Ares incident.
So Dionysus would almost certainly be imprisoned here for a very long time.
And according to what they had heard from Calypso:
Anyone who consumed the Mad Conqueror would eventually go permanently insane if time dragged on.
They had to escape now.
“Brother, listen carefully. If you escape from here and go to Cybele in Phrygia, Lady Rhea will be there. Fortunately, once you get out of the sea, Lord Hermes can guide you close to the area.”
Dionysus listened to Melicertes’s explanation, checked the map handed to him, and nodded immediately.
He didn’t understand everything perfectly, but he could tell his younger brother was risking himself for his sake.
“I understand. Thank you… but if I leave like this—what about you and Mother…?”
“Don’t worry about us. No one except Lady Calypso knows we came here.”
Not long after Dionysus escaped the prison—
A tremendous conch-horn sound echoed across the entire sea.
— Prisoner escape. Prisoner escape.
— A heinous criminal has escaped. Pursue immediately.
— Repeating announcement.
— A heinous criminal has escaped. Pursue immediately.
Mounted on speaking seahorses and war-steeds, the entire oceanic guard force mobilized.
Watching them from a hidden spot near the prison cave, Dionysus calmly unfolded the map.
“According to the map, all standard routes through the sea are blocked. There’s only one way left—crossing the Charybdis Strait.”
Seeing the spot labeled “Charybdis Strait” on the map, Dionysus stiffened.
Even in Mount Nysa, far from Greece—where he had lived hiding from Hera—he had constantly heard terrifying rumors of it.
His teacher Silenus had warned him of several forbidden zones he must never approach:
— The Gorgon’s rocky island
— The Hydra’s swamp
— The Sphinx’s treasure vault
And among them, the Charybdis Strait was always included.
Unlike those other places, however, the Charybdis Strait was said to have had only one survivor in all of history.
The problem was—the map given by his younger brother showed no other possible route.
And Dionysus himself knew nothing about navigating this part of the sea…
“Well, dying here or dying there—same thing. Might as well try.”
Dionysus steeled his resolve and began to move.