Beauty Of Thebes
Chapter 51 - Leading Control
Chapter 51: Leading Control
“It’s my temple. Do I have to clean it up?”
“Shall I clean it up, then?” Eutostea asked, pointing to her injured foot that she was unable to lift up.
“No, no, little bun. I’ll clean it up. You stay on Mariad’s back.”
“I’ll do what I’m able to do.”
The part Eutostea cared most about was the rusty brazier bowl. The three-legged brazier bowl was large enough to cover both arms. It was an expensive bowl that she could feel the quality touch of the craftsman.
The bowl, which contained fire that should never go out, was filled with rainwater and trash. There was also the smell of yeast. The outside of the bowl also the most… burdensome to clean. It was so rusty.
“Here’s the fermented goat’s milk you asked for.”
The Moussa handed the jar and cloth to Eutostea.
Nodding, Eutostea got off the leopard, sat on her knees, soaked the cloth the goat’s milk, and rubbed the surface of the bowl in silence.
‘How long would it take to get rid of the rust?’ Eutostea wondered.
Dionysus looked at Eutostea with his chin resting on the rake.
“Shall we start a new life?” he asked, smiling.
“Do you want to see the temple go bankrupt?”
Eutostea stopped for a moment and looked at him, at the place where he stood. There were many wooden vines that kr was hard to tell whether it had been raked or not.
“When are you going to clean it up?”
“…I can just blow it with force rather than raking it away for half a day.”
“Don’t use your powers for that, but your strength to clean up the mess. Unlike me, you have the strength of an ox. If not, should I rake it myself?”
“No, there’s no need for that,” muttering, Dionysus raised his hand and waved them violently.
“Put everything away before we eat,” Eutostea said firmly, pointing to the western and eastern ends of the vast assembly hall.
‘I think I chose a good priest…’
Dionysus began to rake, feeling like Hercules carrying out Hera’s task. Soon, he concentrated on his labor without a word.
The Moussa, who played music for Dionysus and alcohol for him when he stayed at the temple, looked at each other alternately with puzzled and flushed eyes before deciding to do something.
They helped him clean up.
Three Moussa’s tried their skirts to their thighs so it wouldn’t interfere with their work. They tied their hair up, too, before attaching to Eutostea’s side to help her.
The rusty skin of the bowl began to melt softly and peel off like a tear.
Eutostea was convinced by the sight of the brazier bowl, which was beginning to show its beauty.
It was a valuable work made by a skillful artisan.
When the jar was emptied, Moussa went to the underground storage and grabbed another, but when she opened the wooden door, a bunch of rats popped out and she screamed.
The ears of the two leopards, who laid down next to Eutostea, pricked up. The beasts flew like the wind and jumped to the stairs.
The rats, unable to escape, had its head crushed under the leopards’ paws.
Mariad racer forward. He stamped his paws and crushed the rats as if he were dancing. The leopard was so absorbed in his new toys that he bit and tore them apart to death.
Eutostea pauses, peeking at their roaring hunt.
“Pamphagos, Laelaps, Tigris! Go after her!”
Artemis’ voice came to kind unconsciously.
Eonia and Mariad took up the muzzle stained with the blood of rats.
“Break the tendons of her ankle this time. If you fail, you’ll be punished, Tigris!”
Two pairs of beastly eyes stared back at her.
Eutostea recalled the yellow teeth of the hunting dog rushing towards her neck.
Her throat became parched.
“You bastards!” Dionysus shouted. “Get over here!”
“It’s my temple. Do I have to clean it up?”
“Shall I clean it up, then?” Eutostea asked, pointing to her injured foot that she was unable to lift up.
“No, no, little bun. I’ll clean it up. You stay on Mariad’s back.”
“I’ll do what I’m able to do.”
The part Eutostea cared most about was the rusty brazier bowl. The three-legged brazier bowl was large enough to cover both arms. It was an expensive bowl that she could feel the quality touch of the craftsman.
The bowl, which contained fire that should never go out, was filled with rainwater and trash. There was also the smell of yeast. The outside of the bowl also the most… burdensome to clean. It was so rusty.
“Here’s the fermented goat’s milk you asked for.”
The Moussa handed the jar and cloth to Eutostea.
Nodding, Eutostea got off the leopard, sat on her knees, soaked the cloth the goat’s milk, and rubbed the surface of the bowl in silence.
‘How long would it take to get rid of the rust?’ Eutostea wondered.
Dionysus looked at Eutostea with his chin resting on the rake.
“Shall we start a new life?” he asked, smiling.
“Do you want to see the temple go bankrupt?”
Eutostea stopped for a moment and looked at him, at the place where he stood. There were many wooden vines that kr was hard to tell whether it had been raked or not.
“When are you going to clean it up?”
“…I can just blow it with force rather than raking it away for half a day.”
“Don’t use your powers for that, but your strength to clean up the mess. Unlike me, you have the strength of an ox. If not, should I rake it myself?”
“No, there’s no need for that,” muttering, Dionysus raised his hand and waved them violently.
“Put everything away before we eat,” Eutostea said firmly, pointing to the western and eastern ends of the vast assembly hall.
‘I think I chose a good priest…’
Dionysus began to rake, feeling like Hercules carrying out Hera’s task. Soon, he concentrated on his labor without a word.
The Moussa, who played music for Dionysus and alcohol for him when he stayed at the temple, looked at each other alternately with puzzled and flushed eyes before deciding to do something.
They helped him clean up.
Three Moussa’s tried their skirts to their thighs so it wouldn’t interfere with their work. They tied their hair up, too, before attaching to Eutostea’s side to help her.
The rusty skin of the bowl began to melt softly and peel off like a tear.
Eutostea was convinced by the sight of the brazier bowl, which was beginning to show its beauty.
It was a valuable work made by a skillful artisan.
When the jar was emptied, Moussa went to the underground storage and grabbed another, but when she opened the wooden door, a bunch of rats popped out and she screamed.
The ears of the two leopards, who laid down next to Eutostea, pricked up. The beasts flew like the wind and jumped to the stairs.
The rats, unable to escape, had its head crushed under the leopards’ paws.
Mariad racer forward. He stamped his paws and crushed the rats as if he were dancing. The leopard was so absorbed in his new toys that he bit and tore them apart to death.
Eutostea pauses, peeking at their roaring hunt.
“Pamphagos, Laelaps, Tigris! Go after her!”
Artemis’ voice came to kind unconsciously.
Eonia and Mariad took up the muzzle stained with the blood of rats.
“Break the tendons of her ankle this time. If you fail, you’ll be punished, Tigris!”
Two pairs of beastly eyes stared back at her.
Eutostea recalled the yellow teeth of the hunting dog rushing towards her neck.
Her throat became parched.
“You bastards!” Dionysus shouted. “Get over here!”
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