The Greece Antagonist

"Very well, your father Hermes is also a deity well-versed in music theory, let's see how much you have learned as his son."

Apollo nodded and smiled in agreement, his demeanor was calm, but his words betrayed a superior's test towards a junior.

Clearly, in the eyes of this god of arts, the little lamb before him was merely looking for a reason to learn from him and had no qualification to compete with him on equal footing.

The so-called "challenge" and "victory" were thus out of the question.

As such, he did not mention what would happen after the victory.

While these actions were exactly what Pan had hoped for, Apollo's inherent pride still left the pastoral god seething with resentment.

Just wait, you'll regret this!

While Pan inwardly scoffed, he maintained a humble demeanor and pulled out his most prized musical instrument from his bosom.

It was the pan flute called "Syrinx," made of reeds.

Just like Apollo's lyre and the laurel wreath upon his head, it was made from the essence of a nymph transformed into a plant; thus, when the music played, a natural divine power would emanate, enchanting the listeners into rapture.

It appeared that, at least in terms of instrument material and certain tastes, he shared some hobbies with the God of Light.

Glancing at the group of beautiful Muses behind Apollo, Pan turned his pale yellow goat eyes and proposed with a naive smile.

"Lord Apollo, since this is a competition, shouldn't we invite a judge to arbitrate according to the standards of the Olympic Games?"

To this, Apollo confidently nodded, gently struck the strings of his lyre, and golden ripples spread into the forest.

Soon, accompanied by the rustling of branches and the dragging sound of vines, the campsite was surrounded by ancient trees that had gathered unknowingly.

In the center, the thickest of the old trees squeezed out an aged face with many wrinkles, gestured a slight bow to the audience with its branches, and presented a kind smile.

"Lord Apollo, I have understood your intentions. If you don't mind, let this old one and the spirits of the forest serve as an audience today to judge your and Pan's performance to see who excels."

The forest god Themis, an ancient deity from the Arcadian Mountains.

Through the long years, he and his followers had witnessed much history and often acted as judges, settling disputes.

Seeing that the judge he had called was now present, Apollo smiled and nodded in agreement. He waved his hand to gather earth and rocks, creating a spacious competition field and spectator seats before the campsite, then gracefully bowed backward.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats."

The Muses and nymphs invited as the audience were immediately thrilled. They linked hands and settled in groups, eagerly waiting for the competition to begin.

Apollo's reputation as the "God of Arts" had long been widespread in Olympus, and his performances were considered divine music by many a deity listener.

But as time passed and his divine authority solidified, the God of Light had rarely performed in public.

Now, on this journey, having the chance to witness Apollo play personally, the nymphs and Muses were naturally filled with anticipation.

As the hasty crowd passed before the campsite, leaving Pan alone, he opened his mouth, then ended up offering an embarrassed smile and quickly bending his back to follow onto the stage.

Watching the ignored little lamb and that strained smiling goat face, Luo En shook his head to himself.

He was now beginning to sense the depth of Apollo's arrogance.

Although it was a competition, the God of Light had never considered Pan, his challenger, significant from beginning to end. Whether the venue, the judge, or the manner of conduct, he had not once sought Pan's opinion, acting solely on his own.

And for the opponent, to be ignored was the ultimate insult.

But at this moment, none of the surrounding deities seemed to care about Pan's feelings; they were wholly focused on awaiting Apollo's exceptional performance.

"Since the contestants are in place, let's begin."

Themis, the forest god seated in the judge's chair, lifted his staff and struck the ground, signaling the start while he brushed aside the tree branches beside his ear, ready to listen intently to the performances of the two gods.

"I'll go first!"

Feeling slighted by being upstaged by Apollo, Pan, with some resentment, stepped forward on the stage, invoked his divine power, and began to play his pan flute, attempting to amaze everyone with his proud musical talent.

Divine power surged, air resonated.

The mournful and desolate sound of the pan flute emerged from the slender openings, touching the listeners' hearts, as though bleeding them dry until their hearts would fail and lead to death. Yet, the music was exceedingly captivating, seemingly offering a beautiful death amidst deep emotion.

The reason for the music's mournfulness stemmed from his unrequited love for the nymph Syrinx.

Rejecting his advances, the beautiful deity had rather transformed into reeds than meet him.

Heartbroken, Pan not only created the pan flute from the reeds she had become but also meticulously composed a poem in her honor.

Goddess who roams the meadows,

Your face is a ripple on the water light and free.

Here the green grass forms our bed,

A natural place for you and me to lie.

I'm madly in love with you,

Forgetting the world's fame and wide expanse.

I seek only to embrace you,

But fate shatters my dreams.

The reeds sway in the autumn wind,

You are the sorrow I must not hold...

As the pan flute's low hum filled the silence, the unvoiced confession poured into the ears of the audience, and they seemed to follow the melody into the afternoon sun, witnessing the pastoral god's sad love.

This proud country tune of his possessed an unparalleled power to evoke emotions.

And with the final notes ceasing, silence reigned over the field.

Sorrow and compassion grew uncontrollably within them; the looks from the nymphs and Muses to Pan softened, tinged with shared grief and sympathy, with some even shedding tears for the pitiful pastoral god.

It must be said, Pan's musical attainment is truly deserving of admiration, he has reached the stage where music resonates as the voice of the heart.

But...

Luo En glanced at the nymphs and Muses immersed in the sad atmosphere, his eyes narrowed slightly, a sneer hidden in his gaze.

Thinking to use Authority to influence the audience's minds, attempting to gain an advantage and win by trickery, wasn't this a bit too disrespectful to the Chief God present?

"Ding~!"

At that moment, a delightful sound of the harp echoed through the venue, jolting the audience out of their sorrowful state and restoring clarity to their eyes.

In a daze, the audience, gradually coming to their senses, the more they pondered the story within the music, the more they felt something was amiss.

The object of affection had already made a clear rejection, yet the pursuit continued forcefully, even driving her to the point of abandoning her sense of self—what kind of love was that?

It was nothing more than beastly lust from failing to obtain what one wanted!

After a moment, the goddesses who had originally harbored sympathy and pity for Pan couldn't help but glare at this goat-headed simpleton with undisguised contempt.

And Pan, who had pulled a sly move expecting to be cheered by everyone, instantly turned red in the face amidst the hissing and scorn, his hazel goat eyes sneaking a look at Apollo next to him, seething with annoyance and anger.

The God of Light on the stage appeared to be casually tuning the strings of the harp in his arms, plucking a few more delightful notes, then smiling as he stepped forward.

"Have you finished your performance? Then, it's my turn."

Without waiting for Pan to respond, Themis turned to face Apollo; all the trees pivoted with him.

He wore a Laurel Tree crown from Parnassus upon his head and donned a sweeping Tyrian purple robe, cradling the harp in his left hand and plucking the strings with his right, radiant and resplendent, a paragon of male beauty.

Especially standing next to Pan, the contrast between beauty and ugliness was even more stark.

Instantly, the hearts of the nymphs and Muses on the field skipped a beat, their eyes uniformly transfixed on this handsome god, no longer paying any attention to the little lamb in the corner.

And Apollo, at the center of attention, maintained his graceful demeanor, his pale and jade-like fingers gracefully dancing over the harp strings.

Elegant and beautiful lyrical music flowed between the vibrating strings, as if in the shaded woods under the sun, a gem-like god fluttered by, encountering a beautiful meet-cute in the forest and beginning a wholehearted pursuit.

I am the foremost among poets, offspring of the light

Like a keen hound sniffing out a hare's trail,

You run, ice forming flying whirls as if skater,

The soundbox adorned with vine patterns, curved tender branches.

Your feet's blood vessels spread into the soil,

A patterned bark encases your chest and hair

Branches burst forth, leaves in profusion,

A trunk gradually becoming wooden engulfs your arms and legs;

Your mortal soul wanders in the glow of the Laurel Tree.

The immortal god caresses every inch of your wooden grain,

Feeling the main branch's terrified pulse with your body's warmth,

Kissing each twig as if they were human wrists;

A pair of delicate Laurel hands take and blend into the crown...

But in the end, this declaration full of love is mercilessly rejected; the proud nymph forsakes a sincere and passionate heart, cruelly allowing it to cool and die.

In that gradually melancholic string sound, the nymphs and Muses wept with tears streaming down their faces, both sympathizing with the plight of the confessor and despising the pursuee's callousness and coldness.

Meanwhile, Luo En in the corner had his face full of black lines.

There, Pan had just managed a glorified version of "Afternoon of a Faun," and now Apollo was presenting a beautiful love poem of "Apollo and Daphne."

Those unaware would think they both had great depths of passion and grievance.

Yet the reality was that these two fools insisted on forcing the ladies to agree to their affections, resulting in two unlucky nymphs completely shutting down.

In the end, they even used the composition of music to showcase their love and protest the coldness of the two nymphs.

Luo En was almost sickened by such pretentiousness.

Finally, this torturous piece came to an end.

The branches of the trees around the field swayed cheerfully, and the nymphs and Muses let out a unanimous cheer as though true love fans were rooting for their idol.

Seeing himself at a disadvantage, the cunning Pan immediately picked up his syrinx and played several of his proudest rustic melodies just as Apollo finished his performance.

The light and humorous tone brought pure joy, causing the audience to involuntarily smile with happiness on their faces.

However, Apollo then struck the lyre, washing away the aftertaste of the rustic tune with a magnificent and grand ode.

The praise for the gods and the description of the Titan war left people intoxicated, as if they were on the scene, their blood boiling with excitement.

In the end, after three rounds of back and forth, Themis immediately stood up and declared Apollo, who played the lyre, the winner of the competition.

All the audience accepted this judgment, one after another sending acclaim and wreaths to the dazzling Apollo on the field.

And the neglected Pan was reduced to mere background, his goat face alternating between red and white.

Unable to bear the surrounding cheers that seemed to mock him any longer, he strained a stiff smile, stepped forward to bid farewell to the deities, and made a request to a certain individual who had set traps around the area to escort him out safely.

To this, Luo En immediately nodded with a smile, leading the thoroughly defeated Pan away from this heartbroken land.

But as they stepped beyond the camp's boundaries, the previously grinning Pan suddenly twisted around, glowering with his hazel goat eyes, ferociously looking at the guide next to him.

"Wasn't it you who said you had a way for me to marry Muse? Why did I lose? Damn swindler!"