Hogwarts: Becoming a god from reselling fresh food

"Sing high! Goddess!"

"Sing the wrath of Achilles, son of Peleus!"

"His rage brought about this disaster,"

"Having brought untold misery to the Achaeans,"

"Spell the warrior's heroic soul into the underworld..."

In the southeastern part of the Peloponnese Peninsula, in the Boeotia region, in the magnificent stone palace of Thebes, a blind old man held an old harp and sang an ancient song with his not-so-beautiful voice. Long poem.

A banquet was being held in the hall, and the king of Thebes and his sons and daughters were celebrating their recent victory in the war against the city of Attica.

The long table was filled with delicacies from all over the Mediterranean coast. The waiters held clay pots filled with wine and kept filling the wine glasses in the hands of the richly dressed nobles and priests of the gods.

The banquet had been going on for most of the day, and everyone was already very drunk. People laughed vulgarly, and they were all wild and noisy.

In the middle of the field, a young man in black suddenly stood up from the table, gently pushed away the two drunken girls, and slowly came to the front of the blind singer.

Looking at the latter's chapped lips, he handed him a glass of wine and said, "Old man, drink a glass of wine to moisten your throat."

The sound of the piano stopped, and the old man's empty eyes were still facing forward, "Thank you, kind lord."

He stretched out his hand, fumbled and took the glass of wine and carefully drank a few sips, "Ah, Dionysus, the great god of wine, thank you for your gift. This is Nectar that only gods can enjoy."

"It's just a glass of wine made from grapes." Murphy smiled, "I like your long poems very much. Are these all composed by you yourself?"

"Of course not, my lord," the old man said humbly. "Most of my poems were learned from my teacher. I just added and modified some of them. And these poems were also learned from my teacher's teacher." They were learned there, and some of their passages have been passed down for hundreds of years.”

"So that's it. I've heard your name, Homer. They say you traveled all over Greece. Others say you sang to the gods on Mount Olympus. They say your eyes are the result of looking straight into them. Only the gods are blind, is that right?”

Homer smiled gently and opened his cloudy eyes, "My eyes were born blind, my lord. They only said that because I sang some songs that mentioned Mount Olympus." The feast.”

"...Hephaestus scooped out the sweet Nectar from the mixing vat and filled the gods' wine glasses one by one from left to right. The happy gods couldn't bear to see him busy in the palace. The residents laughed heartily. They enjoyed the feast happily until the sun went down, and they all had a satisfying portion, listening to the beautiful lyre played by Apollo and the beautiful songs of the versatile goddesses of literature and art..."

"The heaven of the gods, where the sons of gods, kings, and heroes are invited, why would they invite an old and blind singer like me?"

"They will," Murphy said, "Poems and legends are the basis for their survival. I will give you a new long poem. If you can adapt it and spread it, the Olympus There will definitely be a place for you at the banquet.”

As he spoke, Murphy stretched out his finger and touched the old man's forehead, bringing an opera scene into his mind.

In an instant, Homer saw a long river that ran through the entire European continent, saw the magic gold shining under the river, he saw the fairy guarding the gold, and saw the dwarfs of the Nibelungs using gold to cast The Ring became king of the world.

Then the temple of Valhalla rose in the clouds, and the Valkyrie Brünnhilde rode between heaven and earth, and he saw the hero Siegfried slaying the dragon, bathing in its blood, and seeing him awaken the slumber. The Valkyrie and fell in love with her, using the Nibelung Ring as a token.

Then, the grand tragedy began. The invincible hero finally died in the conspiracy. Accompanied by the tragic funeral march, the extremely angry Valkyrie walked into the fire.

"The meaning of the ring is far greater than the outcome of Walhalla, far greater than the reputation of the gods. Let me, a happy person, tell you that the ring proves Siegfried's love to me! Go to the gods, Tell them about my ring, I will never give up my love, they can never take it away from me, even if the splendor of Valhalla is reduced to ruins!”

After the Valkyrie's tragic declaration, fire began to sweep through the heavens and the earth, burning Valhalla, the residence of the gods, into ruins, and the Twilight of the Gods arrived.

Homer was trembling all over, and was so shocked by the unparalleled epic that he burst into tears.

"Sir, who are you..." Homer asked in fear.

Both the magnificent epic and the method used by the other party to convey it into his mind were so unbelievable. At the end of the story, the ending of the gods being burned in the fire also made him tremble.

However, there was no answer.

The man seemed to have left.

The noise of the banquet suddenly came up again, and Homer realized that the voice of the man who just spoke to him was obviously very soft, but he could hear it very clearly in this noisy environment, which had already been revealed. The other party's extraordinary.

Maybe, that's a god.

Who could it be?

The incarnation of the muse?

Or is it a messenger from Apollo?

Even Apollo would have difficulty composing the magnificent movement that echoed in his mind.

If it is God, what is his purpose?

What exactly do you want to do by giving yourself a story about gods being destroyed by mortals?

However, after a long silence, Homer stood up.

No matter who the other party is, no matter what the other party's purpose is.

Such a majestic movement, such a magnificent epic, if he cannot let it be passed down, if he allows it to be lost in time, he will regret it for the rest of his life.

…

More than ten years later, when Murphy appeared in Thebes again, he did not hear an epic similar to "The Ring of the Nibelung" being sung.

He searched for several days and finally found a niche tomb in a cemetery next to a dilapidated temple.

It is said that this is the burial place of Homer.

On the niche is a relief carved in rough brushwork, showing an old man holding a harp playing among the gods.

Murphy placed a jar of wine in front of the alcove, "At least you got what you wanted, old man."

But at this moment, a bright light flashed behind Murphy, and then a burly and muscular man appeared there, holding a long bow and wearing a crown woven from various branches on his head. Holding an arrow pot, a blazing light like sunlight overflowed from the back of his head, making his face obscured by the light and unable to be seen clearly.

"The great Homer, who sang for the gods, is buried here. The gods took away his voice, but they could not cover up the great things he brought to the world. That indescribable poem will eventually make him immortal .”

The man said.

As he spoke, the light on the back of his head dissipated a lot, revealing an extraordinary handsome face, and said in a voice as beautiful as singing, "I am Apollo, a friend from a foreign land, I have finally waited for you."