I'll also work hard to conquer the dungeon today.

Chapter 599, page 2.1-73: The Crown: The Treasure of a Lost Dynasty
Under the cool moonlight, the boy sat on a high platform, his feet swinging lightly in the air. His slightly messy, wine-red hair was scattered behind his head and fell to the ground, with strands being lifted by the breeze and faintly shimmering in the moonlight.

A dozen or so wine jars lay scattered around him, and he casually sipped the clear wine from a golden cup in one hand.

His narrow, golden phoenix eyes held a hint of obscure emotion, faintly revealing a dreamy quality as if he were intoxicated by wine, living a life of blissful oblivion. Yet, upon closer inspection, his eyes were remarkably clear-headed, showing no trace of drunkenness.

He glanced down at the full moon reflected in the golden cup, then lazily raised his eyes to gaze at the enormous moon that occupied a quarter of the night sky.

Suddenly, he tightened his grip on the golden cup, for once again he heard the prayers of his people.

"God, please help us!"

"Save us! We were wrong! Please come back!!"

"God! Please give us a home! The flood destroyed our homes, and we are homeless! Please help us one more time!"

Dionysus's thin lips twitched slightly, and a hint of disappointment flickered in his long, narrow, golden phoenix eyes.

“I no longer have the divine power to help you,” he murmured.

Since his people destroyed the shrine, his divinity has been weakening. They have already abandoned and betrayed him, so why are they still thinking of asking for his forgiveness and help at this time?

He no longer possesses the divine power to help his people.

You have no home, but does he have one?
Dionysus looked rather grim, but ultimately he did not make things difficult for his former subjects.

He slightly raised his hand, dipped his fingertips into the wine in the glass, and then made a light stroke in the air. Accompanied by a golden light, the prayers he heard grew fainter and fainter until they disappeared completely.

At that moment, he lost all his divinity. With a crack, his divine essence shattered, and Dionysus's face suddenly turned deathly pale. He covered his mouth with one hand.

With a 'clang,' the golden cup shattered on the ground, spilling its clear liquid. The bright moonlight shone down, creating a silvery river that shimmered with starlight.

"Cough, cough, cough," Dionysus coughed violently, a faint blush of discomfort spreading across his pale face. A streak of golden-red blood trickled down between his fingers, only to vanish as it fell through the air, turning into specks of light.

Gradually, his coughing stopped. He looked down at the golden-red blood in his hand, watching the golden light float in the air and turn into specks of light, rising slowly like fireflies until it finally lost its last glimmer.

His long, narrow, golden phoenix eyes stared intently at the crimson blood in his palm until not a trace of gold remained. Then, he wrapped his other hand around it, his palm slowly closing against his heart. He bent down, feeling his slowly beating heart, and gently closed his eyes.

A gentle breeze ruffled the stray strands of hair on his forehead, his long, wine-red eyelashes fluttered, and his eyelids lifted slightly. When he opened his eyes again, his long, narrow, gilded eyes were filled with only calm and indifference.

As the full moon gradually set, he sat silently on the high platform, the cool night breeze wafting around him.

As dawn broke, like a miracle breaking through the darkness, light shone down on the earth, waking the sleeping creatures and awakening all life.

As dawn breaks and the first light of day appears, it dispels the chill of the night and brings a touch of warmth.

Her pale skin glowed translucent in the sunlight, with a hint of rosy hue.

Dionysus picked up the gold cup that had fallen to the side, casually tied it around his waist, and slowly stood up. The gold ornaments on his body made a crisp sound as he moved.

He walked away from the light towards the other side of the platform, the sunlight shining on his slightly messy, wine-red hair, gilding it with a layer of gold. A gentle breeze stirred, ruffling the strands of hair, making them appear even more sacred and noble in that instant of golden light.

He seemed to have grown up in an instant, transforming from a boy into a young man, all his former restlessness gone, replaced only by laziness, an obscure and incomprehensible indifference, and gloom. The sun came out, and the terrible downpour ended abruptly after only one day.

The young god used his last strength to do one last thing for his people who had abandoned him, leaving nothing for himself in the end.

Dionysus paused slightly after stepping down from the platform, his narrow, golden phoenix eyes coldly fixed on the arrogant man standing not far away, his body radiating golden light, before suddenly falling silent.

"Who was this kind-hearted person? It turns out to be the wandering, past-tempered god of wine." With a hint of mockery and disdain in his golden vertical pupils, Wang arrogantly looked at Dionysus and sneered.

Dionysus frowned slightly, remaining silent as if he had no desire to speak.

"Your good intentions may not be appreciated. Just like those greedy relatives who don't know the immensity of heaven and earth, they are still not satisfied even though you have given them enough. They are probably cursing you now, cursing you for not saving them sooner, but only after their homes were washed away by the flood."

Wang Weiwei raised her hand and played with a strand of light golden hair on her shoulder, a sarcastic smile on her lips as she uttered cruel words.

“Is that so…” Dionysus said in a low voice, his voice slightly hoarse. As he spoke, he felt a dryness and pain in his throat, and he couldn’t help but frown.

"You are the one who created their greed. If you hadn't satisfied their every whim, they wouldn't have become so demanding. The greed in the human heart is insatiable. Today you satisfy their desire to have enough to eat, tomorrow they want to live in a nice house, and then their desires grow ever larger..."

At this point, the king paused, then continued, "There was no need to satisfy such beings from the beginning, because it's not worth it. You yourself have put yourself in this predicament. The root of all this lies with you. Your tolerance emboldened them to take advantage, and their ambition grew bigger and bigger. In the end, when they were not satisfied, they began to kill gods. It's truly terrifying how human nature can be. Even I, the king, shudder."

Wang scoffed, his face full of disdain.

“This is not a reason to be harsh on your people,” Dionysus said slowly, gazing calmly at the king.

"Why not? I'm teaching them that as ants, they shouldn't even think about possessing things that don't belong to them. They don't deserve it." His golden vertical pupils held only coldness and aloofness, devoid of any superfluous emotion. To him, emotions were the most ridiculous thing.

“Is that so…” Dionysus lowered his eyes and remained silent. Perhaps Isaac had encountered something that caused him to be disappointed in his people, but he felt that a ruler should not have personal feelings, nor was he entitled to have personal feelings.

It's true that he brought this upon himself, but even a cruel and selfish king will eventually be overthrown by the ants he despises.

because……

There are no truly insignificant ants in this world, only cowards who dare not stick their heads out.

This actually shows just how drastically different the views of Dionysus and Isaac were.

To be honest, Dionysus's character is extremely complex, but he is my favorite and the one I feel most sorry for.

From the innocence and naivety of the divine era, to the struggle and resistance after the temple was destroyed, and finally to the relief and ultimate forgiveness as a god when he gave up his last bit of divinity for the sake of his abandoned people.

From that moment on, as he grew up, he also began to fear getting hurt.

So he came to the stage of being human. Indifference and gloom were just his protective colors, protecting his overly tolerant self and hiding the softness in his heart little by little.

Gods are not afraid, but humans are. After Dionysus ceased to be a god and began to be himself, he too cast off the shackles that bound him, but a wrong choice led him astray onto a completely different path.

Besides telling history, the Flower Crown instance is also the story of Dionysus's growth, step by step, into the High Priest of Sloth.

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(End of this chapter)