Several days later, a young blond-haired blue-eyed bard carrying a backpack arrived outside the city of Thebes.
Looking at the familiar yet unfamiliar "hometown" before him, Lorne, who had changed his identity, felt a myriad of emotions in his heart.
Not long ago, by orchestrating the death of Adonis, he successfully provoked the anger of Aphrodite.
This led to Ares, the god of war, fleeing back to Olympus in disgrace under the mad pursuit of his old lover, hiding at home all day, not daring to come out.
The sea of Oceanus naturally returned to its former peace, and Thetis' troubles were also resolved effortlessly.
But for safety's sake, Lorne did not turn around to get cozy with that sea goddess but decisively left the crime scene, preparing to go to other city-states to hide for a while, temporarily avoid the limelight and clear his own suspicions.
After thinking about it, the "hometown" that had almost faded in his memory came to mind.
So he came to Thebes to take a look and, by the way, continue his path as a bard.
After all, the goddess of memory in the Temple of Memory was still waiting for his updates, and the nine Muses who were sitting alone in their boudoirs were still waiting for him to redeem them with manuscripts.
Of course, his current identity was still "Homer".
In fact, under the operation of him and the nine Muses, this pen name was no longer a simple individual but a creative group.
To facilitate wandering and committing crimes in various city-states, they had a stack of identities.
Using the pool by the roadside, looking at his completely different appearance and the passersby around him treating him as invisible, Lorne nodded in satisfaction.
The disguise formed by the triple overlay of illusion, magic dice of chance, and memory divinity was really too convenient to use.
After pausing for a while and confirming again that no flaws were left, Lorne crossed the small path overgrown with weeds beside the avenue and came to a barren mountain on the outskirts of the city.
Here, it was almost barren of grass with jagged, charred black stones piled on the desolate, cracked ground showing traces of what seemed like lightning strikes and fire roasting.
And climbing to the top of the barren mountain, the terrain suddenly became steep, the cliff facing the sea almost at a 90-degree angle to the sea surface as if split straight by a blade descending from the sky.
A few charred, rotten wooden boards were buried in the black, brown soil, and the few emerald green tender buds on the mountain poked out from them, bringing a trace of fragile vitality to this dead land.
Here, it was once the bedroom of the Theban princess Semele and also the birthplace where he first arrived in this world.
Lorne stood in front of the ruins, gazing at the unrecognizable former residence, trying hard to search for memories that were distant and somewhat blurred, wanting to find a trace of familiarity in the surroundings.
However, unfortunately, he failed.
Lying in the cradle for more than a month, he did not have too deep an impression of the flowers and plants on this mountain.
Even his own mother, after such a long time, he could hardly remember her appearance.
The only impression was probably that she was relatively young, full of yearning for love, often liked to tease him, and even gave him the nickname "little lion".
"Sorry..."
Lorne shook his head, a bit embarrassed, then bent down to place the flower wreath in his hand on that charred black soil.
"This was on the way up the mountain; he personally wove it using grapevines from the fields and a few wildflowers nearby."
"There is good news and bad news." The figure in the wind said to the flower wreath on the open ground
"The good news is I am still alive and plan to avenge you and also for myself..."
Then Lorne paused and continued somewhat helplessly.
"But the bad news is he is also still alive and living quite comfortably.
I heard that he recently hooked up with the wife of the Spartan king Tyndareus."
"The swan transformation possessed Leda, giving birth to twin sons and the beauty Helen.
According to the prophecy, this should be the eighth one..."
A sea breeze blew over the flower wreath, rustling and trembling as if accusing some fickle and heartless, shameless scumbag.
Lorne glanced sideways, shook his head and muttered to himself.
"Do not. I cannot deal with him right now. That old guy is quite agile. He just took care of Poseidon and Apollo together."
The sea breeze intensified the trembling of the flower wreath seemed even more intense.
Seeing this, Lorne could only helplessly raise his hands.
"Fine, fine, I will find an opportunity later to collect some interest for you first. And I promise you, sooner or later, I will send him down to accompany you. Is that okay?"
Under the oath of a certain great filial son, the flower wreath calmed down, seeming satisfied.
A ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, shining on the mountain top. The petals of the flower wreath became brighter and colorful. The branches and leaves even more verdant.
The sky had cleared.
Lorne looked up, smiled self-mockingly, then stood up from the ground, patted off the dust and grass scraps on his clothes and strode down the mountain.
~~
After paying respects to his deceased mother, a certain great filial son felt as if he had unloaded some burden from his heart.
Not only did his steps become lighter, but he even had the leisure to take up his old profession as a bard, sitting under the shade of a tree by the roadside with a seven-string lyre, singing sacred hymns to the passersby on the road, earning travel expenses to enter the city.
"I invoke the god who was born first of dual gender, appearing in the heavens.
He was born from an egg with golden wings shining brightly.
You roar like a bull, the origin of the joyful gods and mortals.
Unforgettable sowing endless worldly revelry, the primordial one Phanes..."
However, the passersby around, hearing this song, all changed their expressions and hurriedly accelerated to leave.
Even before a small section was completed, the area around him became a vacuum zone.
What is Thebes so xenophobic?
'But anyway, I am half a local, the fellow countrymen should give some face right?'
"Kid, are you tired of living? Shut up quickly!"
Just as Lorne was muttering to himself about the failure of the performance, an old farmer who was tending grapevines in the nearby field rushed over in a hurry, came forward, and snatched his seven-string lyre.
Facing this sudden change, a trace of surprise appeared on his face.
"Old man, what are you..."
"Stop talking nonsense if you do not want to die, follow me quickly!"
The old farmer looked around vigilantly, and after confirming no one was there, he hurriedly grabbed the arm of the young man under the tree, pulled him into the dense shade of the grape field, and walked deeper while earnestly lecturing.
"You, young man, what are you learning at such a young age?
Why learn the tunes of those outsiders singing praises for that damn wine god? If I had not pulled you in time, when the city guards came later to check, even your little life might not be preserved!"