384 – The God Who Dies Twice #2
“Aaah, this one must be a new nymph…! Lord Hassan, you already have Paranoi, such an excellent and loyal servant, and yet you keep bringing other nymphs…!”
As we emerged from the jail, Paranoi was the first to greet me.
She soon noticed Ignoy hesitantly trailing behind me and began to circle around her.
“She’s shorter than me…! This nymph is smaller than me…!”
Swoosh.
As usual, Paranoi pressed her forehead against Ignoy’s for their customary greeting.
“I am Paranoi, nymph of ditch water…!”
“….”
Perhaps due to her crying just moments ago, Ignoy seemed to lack motivation.
Paranoi, raising her voice and tapping Ignoy’s forehead, exclaimed loudly.
“Aaah, this is the nymph of tears…!”
The sharp sound madeElfride furrow her brows and inquire.
“What’s a nymph of tears? You’ve got honey water, ditch water, muddy water—what’s next? Aren’t you just making these up?”
“There lies a profound evolutionary system within us nymphs that outsiders cannot comprehend…!”
“Hmnn….”
Elfride stretched out her words, uninterested, as she crossed her arms. Nevertheless, Paranoi continued, sounding rather charitable.
“Nymphs of tears are rare nymphs who evolve after going through events of grave sorrow and grief…!”
At Paranoi’s words, I realized how deeply Ignoy had mourned Bacchus’ d*ath.
Her bright red hair had become a faded shade, perhaps due to the shock and sorrow.
“Nymphs of tears are excellent at household chores such as laundry and cry more than anyone…! They are the nymphs who cry the loudest at funerals…!”
“Banshees, is that what you’re saying?”
“They’re not banshees; they’re nymphs of tears…! Though, to be honest, I’m not exactly sure what abilities they possess…!”
As Paranoi and Elfride bickered, Ignoy, evolved from muddy water to tears, appeared disinterested, merely observing her surroundings.
“….”
Of course, the one she’s looking for won’t be there.
Still, I wasn’t insensitive enough to tell her that outright.
“Hassan, didn’t you say the journey would take a month? You’re back much sooner than expected.”
We hastily left Babel and returned to Sodomora. Greeting me at the shrine’s return was Hippolyte, who had been out on patrol.
Seeing Hippolyte’s face, I finally felt at ease, as I had been worried that assassins might attack our carriage in an attempt to get to me as we returned to Sodomora.
“Your journey may have been short, but you look like you’ve got a lot to say, Hassan.”
Recognizing the gravity in my expression, Hippolyte slightly furrowed her brows.
“Something must have happened.”
“That’s right.”
Hippolyte is one of the few people in this world I trust. Thus, I recounted everything that had transpired in full detail.
“Such an event….”
Hippolyte exhaled deeply, contemplating.
“Who else knows about this?”
“Not everyone. Through Silaya, only the high adventurers know that Bacchus has disappeared. By now, it might have reached the kingdom as well.”
“Hmm, that’s enough. With traitors from Thunderblade and Hypos scheming, trusting no one is probably for the best. The suspicions could even turn toward you. It was a very prudent decision not to immediately divulge everything.”
Hippolyte supported my choice, indicating it was the right one.
Her gaze then moved toward Ignoy, who was sitting in the graveyard outside Paranoi’s office.
“So, is she the nymph?”
“Yes.”
“One of the few beings who can provide evidence of the elves and the traitors from Thunderblade and Hypos who hired them. Naturally, you couldn’t just leave her to be executed.”
“That’s why I was wondering, could you temporarily look after her while I’m away, Hippolyte?”
“Me? Look after the nymph?”
“She could be targeted by someone. She’d be safest by your side.”
“I see. I’ll consider it. In any case, this situation is far from ordinary. You came back just in time. There’s bound to be a wave of rumors soon.”
Hippolyte massaged her forehead, already looking exhausted. Then, I remembered something and changed the subject.
“Ah, and how can I gather a lot of people? If we use my shrine as the venue, they’ll definitely come, right? I’d appreciate it if you could help gather a crowd there.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard. What’s the purpose?”
“You’ll see once it happens.”
Upon my return to Sodomora, the news spread widely across the continent that Hassan, the god of wine, had died.
“All of it is the absolute truth.”
Ordered by the king, his funeral was conducted on a national scale.
For a week, every city and village participated in a relay of mourning to honor his passing.
However, the somber atmosphere surrounding his d*ath soon transformed into an unusual excitement after additional revelations emerged post-funeral.
“You all, this is Hassan, the owner of this shrine. He’s about to disclose the last testament left by my friend, Bacchus, the god of wine.”
It was due to the testament Bacchus left behind.
Speaking to the crowd gathered through Hippolyte, as I requested:
“Bacchus wanted to disclose the formula for creating ambrosia. Thus, in accordance with his wish, I’ll reveal all stages of the process to the world without hiding anything.”
The formula for creating ambrosia.
The dream of all alchemists, potion makers, brewers, and innkeepers. The moment this came to light, the world replaced its sadness with subtle excitement.
“For a while, I’ll be provisionally taking the great position of the god of wine. If anyone could please take this cup from me, that would be great. The ingredients are posted on the bulletin boards set up across the shrine; make sure you have a look.”
What kind of ingredients are these? A woman’s curse? Teeth of trees? Are these metaphors?
Or could they be literal? Anyway, whoever creates that golden nectar can become the god of wine.
I’ve spent 10 years crafting only potions, not even dating anyone—I deserve that position.
No, no, it’s mine. I’ve been making alcohol alone for over 30 years.
The confusion and anticipation resembled a festival more than anything. No, it actually was a festival.
Competition over the next position of the god of wine heated up after the mournful funeral.
“It’s strange how everyone can celebrate so openly when such a great god has died. There’s a lack of reverence. We should mourn more, shouldn’t we?”
Antiope, folding her arms as she looked at the crowd, appeared displeased with their behavior.
I silently agreed with Antiope but noticed that Hippolyte, observing the gathering crowd, had differing thoughts.
“Bacchus was the god of festivals. Perhaps he disliked the thought of the world slipping into despair or gloom after his disappearance?”
“You mean, all this is exactly what Bacchus intended?”
“Yes. This noisy, festival-like funeral, you see. It would make him happy, no doubt. Of course, it’s hard for us who must control the crowd.”
Hippolyte narrowed her eyes as she saw the boisterous crowd gathered at my shrine. Simultaneously, she fidgeted with something before handing it to me.
It was a potion glowing with a yellow hue. The bubbling liquid inside suggested it might be some kind of acidic solution.
Hippolyte spoke.
“I, this is the wine I’ve tried to brew. I don’t know how it tastes, but I’d like your opinion as my judge.”
“Ah, Hippolyte, are you participating in this ambrosia-making festival as well? I didn’t know you coveted the position of the god of wine.”
“No, it’s just, you know. Since there’s an opportunity, I thought I’d partake. Anyway, drink it quickly.”
At Hippolyte’s urging, I unscrewed the cap and brought the potion to my mouth. The taste was tangy with a curious apple-like aroma.
Delicious wine.
It reminded me of a normal, good apple-flavored champagne, the kind you’d find in stores.
Was it because Hippolyte is good at cooking? She seems to apply her talents to making delicious drinks as well.
Hippolyte looked at my face anxiously.
“Well? Is it similar to ambrosia? I did try to recreate the taste I had a slight memory of back then. Though, I’m not aiming to become the god of wine or anything…”
As Hippolyte babbled nervously, I shook my head.
“You’re eliminated.”
“That’s right.”
By Bacchus’ testament, I was chosen to be the judge for selecting the next god of wine. Initially, I didn’t think much of it.
“Lord Hassan, please try this one. It’s my masterpiece.”
“Excuse me? I should go first! Look at his. It’s not even golden. Mine’s yellow.”
“What? Are you equating pale green with gold? Step aside, man.”
Judging as the evaluator for ambrosia, I soon realized it meant consuming a ridiculous amount of alcohol, potions, and suspicious liquids.
My stomach might burst from this. With all these unknown liquids, my stomach feels like it’s about to flip.
Thus, after much discussion with the priests, we decided to first organize the situation.
“Wednesday! Henceforth, evaluations will be held every Wednesday only! Also, anything not golden will be disqualified in the preliminary round, do understand!”
And so, the grand Hassan Brews Audition Festival commenced.
『Hassan’s Current Status:
Number of Followers: 731,972
Number of Foundations: 1
Number of Shrines: 1
Number of Priests: 12
Number of Blessings: 1
Overall: Young and Weak God. Must surpass 1,000 followers to upgrade.』
Thanks to the festival, there was an increasing influx of visitors to the graveyard. These people were being aggressively converted into followers by zealots.
So, here’s some sitting mats for waiting time. And some snacks for sale—candy made from boiled and hardened sugar cane.
The previously quiet and solemn area around my graveyard became lively with the influx of people and merchants selling goods to them.
『Store of Chaotic Tasks. Level 1』
『1. Blessing.』
『2. Curse.』
『3. Catastrophe.』
『4. Upgrade – 972/1000』
Additionally, I nearly filled up the 4th option of the Task Store, “Upgrade,” with significant anticipation for what might happen post-upgrade.
Approaching me with a remark was Paranoi.
“Lord Hassan, today is Wednesday!”
“Oh, it’s already that time again?”
Wednesday.
On Wednesday, people present their week’s finest brews to be examined first by Paranoi and the 12 priests.
“Hehe, this is a barley wine from our ‘Wolf and Salt’ guild. How do you like it? It’s beautifully golden, isn’t it? This should definitely pass the preliminaries.”
In the preliminary round, the main things judged are the dazzling golden color and the presence of any poison.
Swoosh.
Paranoi dipped her finger into the golden beer and pronounced:
“Pass!”
Thus, it’s handed to me, seated on the grand stone chair inside the shrine, where I decide if it’s ambrosia or not.
“Disqualified.”
If drinking ambrosia makes text float before my face, the absence of that means automatic disqualification.
“Tch, d*mn it. I worked so hard.”
“Still, it tastes good. If you supply it to taverns, it’ll surely sell well.”
“Hehe, thanks! Being certified by the new god of wine, the business should run smoothly, huh?”
“New god of wine? Temporarily, but still. Alright, next please.”
As the brew master from the “Wolf and Salt” guild stepped back, someone else emerged, a female in armor, bearing a bottle of gleaming golden liquid.
“Hassan, this is my latest creation. I’ve tried to perfectly replicate that taste and that hue from back then.”
“Isn’t that you again, Hippolyte?”
Hippolyte appeared subtly keen on the position of the god of wine.
Every day, she brought her homemade wine for me to drink. They tasted fruity but were far from being ambrosia.
“Disqualified.”
“That’s right.”
However, Hippolyte didn’t retreat like other contestants or complain about the elimination. She stayed, as if she had something more to say.
I asked.
“Is Ignoy doing well?”
“Yes. Eats three times a day, well cared for. She’s over there playing with Paranoi right now.”
Swoosh.
Hippolyte’s finger pointed towards Ignoy, playing with Paranoi on the ground, amusing themselves by watching ants.
“This Paranoi is a master of ant fights…! Learned from Lady Luna and can spot winners among ants, making them tremble with fear…!”
“…”
“React or cheer! It’s fun when you’re loud and animated in ant fights!”
“…”
“Aaah, that’s a foul! That’s not an ant; it’s a big beetle general! Where did you even find it?”
Although she seemed less motivated than before, the fact that she was doing something at all was a significant improvement.
I then whispered another question to Hippolyte very quietly.
“Has anyone from the kingdom approached, or other elves?”
“Seems not, at least so far. They won’t make rash moves anytime soon. Moving hastily might reveal their plans. They’re detailed plotters, you see. And before that…”
Hippolyte chuckled lightly at my face, red from drunkenness.
“You should collapse first. Drinking so much—truly worthy of a new god of wine.”
“Even so, it feels like I’m about to d*e. And it’s only temporary.”
I had already consumed the equivalent of several barrels of alcohol, feeling quite nauseous.
Fortunately, a health bead that tastes nauseating surprisingly clears the hangover and refreshes the mind, something I realized pretty late. Thankfully, its effects were excellent in curing hangovers and maintaining clear thoughts.
Though it was problematic that only one bead remained.
Swoosh.
As I looked at the health bead resting in my palm like a pearl, I briefly considered something. Luna is good at making potions; perhaps she’s also talented at making wine?
The ingredients are somewhat similar after all.
I recalled the day Luna and I first met, offering me her homemade alcohol—something about Ideope’s snow wine. She had drunk enough to make even me, who rarely drank before, lose my sanity after only a few glasses.
“Lady Hippolyte, do you think you could summon the dragons of Goddess Venus?”
“Dragons?”
“Those creatures should be able to fly across the sea in a few days.”
“True, indeed.”
Hippolyte smiled slightly, understanding the implication, and nodded.
“Actually, I received a message from Noxdotty today. Here’s the letter.”
