This was a peculiar space, completely independent of the real world.
There was no north, south, east, or west here, no up or down; as far as the eye could see, there was only a chaotic yet soft milky-white halo.
The halo was not static; instead, it flowed incredibly slowly, as if alive, sometimes coalescing into cloud-like wisps, other times dissipating without a trace.
The air was filled with an indescribable scent, neither the dust of the mortal world nor the sharp, high-pressure feel of the divine realm.
It was too quiet here, so quiet that even time itself seemed to have paused.
There was no sound of wind, no chirping of insects, not even the faintest whisper of dust falling.
This absolute stillness would likely drive an ordinary person mad within half an hour.
But for certain beings who transcended the laws, it was a rare sanctuary.
The ground was like that soft, fluffy substance, feeling like solidified clouds underfoot.
Right at the center of this pure white world stood a figure that commanded all attention.
It was a woman, a woman whose mere silhouette was enough to eclipse the heavens and earth.
She wore no shoes, her bare feet treading on the pristine, soft ground.
The shape of her feet was as perfect as the Creator’s most cherished artwork: slender ankles, an elegant arch, and round, lovely toes, tinged with a healthy pink.
She was dressed in a long white gown, distinctly ancient Greek in style.
The fabric of the gown, woven from an unknown material, was so sheer it seemed like a thin mist shrouded in morning light.
With her slightest movement, the material flowed gently over her body like water.
The gown’s cut was bold and exquisite; the fabric at the back draped beautifully, perfectly outlining her tall and slender spine.
A cascade of long hair, shimmering like molten gold, fell loosely behind her.
Each strand was incredibly smooth, emanating a faint golden glow, as if it had captured all the sunlight in the world.
The ends of her hair were slightly curled, reaching her waist, swaying gently with her movements, stirring up an almost imperceptible fragrant breeze.
At this moment, this beautiful woman was cradling a tiny life.
It was a male infant, seemingly just born, carefully wrapped in a pristine white silk swaddling cloth embroidered with golden patterns.
The baby’s exquisite, doll-like face was exposed, his skin so tender it seemed water could be squeezed from it.
A pair of big, dark eyes curiously stared at his mother holding him.
The child was unusually well-behaved, neither crying nor fussing, but happily waving his two chubby little hands.
He made cooing sounds, seemingly trying to converse with his mother.
His tender voice was exceptionally clear and pleasant in this silent space, like pearls falling onto a jade plate.
The woman lowered her head, her exquisitely beautiful profile appearing sacred and gentle in the soft light.
She extended a long, fair finger, gently teasing the infant in her arms.
Her fingertip lightly brushed the baby’s soft cheek, then playfully touched his tiny nose.
The baby giggled, immediately grabbing her finger with his two small hands, holding on tightly and refusing to let go.
Just then, ripples appeared in the distant space.
These ripples were not like water, but more like the air being compressed by something.
Immediately after, a golden boot stepped out of the ripples.
The boot looked very valuable, inlaid with tiny gems that shimmered in the soft light.
Then, a tall figure fully emerged.
This person wore a magnificent golden armor, intricately carved with complex patterns, and a dark red cape draped over his shoulders.
He wore a golden helmet on his head and held a spear in his hand.
This person was Odin, the God King of Asgard.
Though he was dressed majestically, his movements seemed a bit odd.
As soon as he landed, he didn’t immediately stride forward, but first looked left and right, as if confirming whether anyone else was around.
He hid the spear in his hand behind him, straightened his cape, and even reached up to touch his grizzled beard, seemingly checking if it was neatly groomed.
His expression was somewhat stiff, and his eyes held a hint of guilt.
He tiptoed, trying not to let his boots make too much noise, slowly walking towards the woman, step by step.
Every few steps, he would stop and look back at the spot where the ripples had vanished, as if terribly afraid someone might be following him.
Odin finally reached a spot not far from the woman.
He stopped, took a deep breath, and straightened his back, trying to appear more dignified.
But his eyes couldn’t help but dart around.
He was a married man, and if goddess queen Frigga knew he had come to such a place to see another woman, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Although he was the God King, he always lacked confidence when dealing with such domestic disputes.
However, for the woman before him, he felt the risk was worth it.
He raised his hand, intending to greet her, but then lowered it halfway.
He felt it was too abrupt.
He then thought of walking straight over, but again, felt it would be too presumptuous.
So he lingered for a while, finally deciding to speak first.
He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound steady and magnetic.
“Cough, cough.” He first pretended to cough twice, trying to get the woman’s attention.
But the woman continued to tease the infant in her arms, showing no intention of turning around.
Odin awkwardly scratched the edge of his helmet, forced to raise his voice.
“Uh…
Aphrodite?” he called out tentatively.
Hearing the voice, the woman showed no surprise.
She still kept her head down, her finger gently scratching the baby’s chin.
“You’re here?” she replied casually, her tone as flat as if greeting a neighbor, completely lacking the reaction one might expect upon seeing an God King.
Odin looked at her back, his heart stirring with excitement.
After all these years, she was still the same, even her back view was so captivating.
He rubbed his hands together, a smile spreading across his face, his furtive expression instantly replaced by a slightly fawning one.
“Yes, I’m here,” Odin said with a smile, his feet involuntarily moving a few steps forward.
“Long time no see, Aphrodite.
You…
you’re still so beautiful.” As he spoke, genuine light sparkled in his eyes.
This was not flattery; in his opinion, the woman before him was indeed the most beautiful being in the world.
Even just looking at her back, his heart would involuntarily beat a little faster.
Only then did the woman slowly turn around.
Her long hair cascaded loosely over her shoulders, and her face was so exquisite that no fault could be found.
Aphrodite raised her eyelids, giving Odin a faint glance.
Her eyes were clear and bright, but they lacked the warmth of a long-awaited reunion that Odin had hoped for.
“Of course,” she responded matter-of-factly, as if Odin complimenting her beauty was the most normal thing, requiring no humility.
“Does my beauty still need your confirmation?” After speaking, she scrutinized Odin from head to toe.
Her gaze moved from his gem-encrusted helmet to his polished armor, finally resting on his wrinkled face.
“However…” A slight smile played on her lips, a half-smile that wasn’t quite a smile.
“You certainly have aged a lot.” Odin’s smile instantly froze.
He instinctively touched his cheek, then his grizzled beard.
“Ahem…
time, it spares no one,” he chuckled awkwardly.
“Besides, I’ve been toiling for so many years; Asgard has so many matters.
How can I compare to you?” He sighed inwardly.
This woman, still the same.
Her tongue was as sharp as ever; even as God King Odin, he couldn’t gain an inch against her.
It was true then, and it was true now.
Odin looked at Aphrodite’s still young and beautiful face, a mix of emotions swirling within him.
He remembered how he had gone to great lengths to pursue her back in the day.
He had given her divine artifacts, precious treasures, and even hosted grand banquets specifically for her.
But what was the result?
He hadn’t even earned a proper glance.
If it were any other woman, or any other goddess, with his status as Odin, he would have long since claimed her.
Even by force, or by pressuring Zeus, he could have had her.
But he specifically didn’t want to do that.
He was the God King, ruler of the Nine Realms; how could he stoop to such a base act of forcing a woman?
Odin had his pride.
Besides, a woman like Aphrodite, if her heart wasn’t with you, even taking her by force would be meaningless.
He wanted her to be willing.
Alas, those who pursued her in this world could line up from Asgard to the foot of Mount Olympus, and he was merely one of the many failures.
Thinking of this, Odin shook his head helplessly.
Never mind, it wasn’t the first time she had rebuked him like this; he was used to it.
He adjusted his mindset, just about to say something to lighten the mood.
Just then, Odin’s gaze finally fell upon the little bundle in Aphrodite’s arms.
He had been so preoccupied with the Goddess and his own nervousness that he hadn’t noticed she was holding a child.
At this sight, Odin’s eyes instantly widened.
The infant was staring at Odin with wide, curious eyes.
The little one wasn’t shy at all, blowing bubbles and playfully tugging at a strand of Aphrodite’s hair.
Aphrodite gently pulled her hair from the baby’s grasp and lightly patted his back.
That look, those actions, clearly belonged to a mother comforting her child.
Odin’s mind went blank with a ‘buzz’.
What…
what was happening?
The Goddess he hadn’t seen in years was holding a child?
Had she gotten married?
Or had she had a child with someone?
An indescribable pang of bitterness welled up in his heart.
Although he had long known he had no chance, seeing the Goddess with a child firsthand was still a significant blow.
Odin opened his mouth, unable to utter a sound for a long time.
He pointed at the infant, his finger trembling slightly.
“This…
this…” he stammered, his voice changing pitch.
“This child…
whose is it?” As he asked this, countless thoughts raced through Odin’s mind.
Was it that brute Ares’?
Or that cripple Hephaestus’?
Surely not some mortal’s, right?
Aphrodite looked at Odin’s utterly devastated expression, a hint of mischief flashing in her eyes.
She held the baby a little higher, showing him to Odin.
“What do you think?” She blinked her beautiful amber eyes, a playful smile curling her lips.
“This child…
is yours.” This single sentence was more shocking than a bolt of lightning striking Odin’s head.
Odin was completely dumbfounded.
He stood rooted to the spot, his mouth wide open, large enough to fit an egg.
The Eternal Spear, gungnir, a symbol of his power, almost slipped from his grasp.
“Wh-what?!” Odin bellowed, completely disregarding his image as the God King.
“Mine?!” Odin pointed at his own nose, his eyes nearly popping out.
“Don’t…
don’t joke around!
Aphrodite, you can’t make such jokes!” He waved his hands frantically, even stepping back two paces.
“I…
we’ve known each other for a long time, but…
but we’ve never been intimate!” Odin stammered, his old face instantly turning crimson.
“I’ve barely even held your hand, how could there be a child!
This…
this doesn’t make sense biologically…
no, theologically!” He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead as he spoke.
If this got out, Frigga would surely flay him alive.
And it was too absurd; becoming a father out of thin air?
Aphrodite looked at his flustered appearance and couldn’t help but let out a giggle.
“Look how scared you are.” She gently shook her head, a hint of teasing in her eyes.
“How can the mighty God King be such a coward?” She lowered her head, kissed the infant in her arms, then slowly said, “Do you remember, a long time ago, you once gave me a Divine Seed?” At the words “Divine Seed,” Odin paused.
His chaotic mind finally began to slowly process.
Memories flashed back to a very, very long time ago.
It was when he was still madly pursuing Aphrodite.
To express his sincerity and his protection for her, he had indeed once separated a wisp of his primordial divine power, condensed it into a seed, and given it to her.
At the time, he had said, “If you encounter danger, or need help, this seed will protect you on my behalf.” “Ah…
I remember now.” Odin nodded in sudden realization, his expression shifting from terror to bewilderment.
“There was such a thing.
But…
but that was just a Divine Seed, how could it become…
become a child?” He took a few steps closer, leaning towards the infant, examining him carefully.
He hadn’t noticed from afar, but now that he was closer, he indeed sensed a very familiar aura from this little one.
That was pure Asgardian divine power, and it was the aura of his Odin’s unique All-Father Power.
There was no mistaking this feeling.
“That’s why I said, he is indeed your child, yet not your child.” Aphrodite looked up, meeting Odin’s puzzled gaze, and calmly explained.
“He is your child because he truly inherited your divine power.
Your power flows in the very essence of his life.” As she spoke, she gently held the baby’s tiny hand, showing Odin the faint golden glow subtly flowing within the child, “See, this power, besides you, who else in this world could possess it?” Odin looked at the faint golden light and fell silent.
Indeed, that was his power.
“But he is not your child,” Aphrodite continued, her tone becoming a little more serious, “because you and I never had that kind of relationship.
He has no direct blood relation to you.
He is a life I conceived on my own, within my own essence, using that Divine Seed of yours.” “Simply put, you provided the power as the ‘father,’ and I gave him life as the ‘mother.’ But he is not a product born from our union in that manner.” Odin listened, dumbfounded.
Although such an operation wasn’t entirely unheard of in the mythological world, having it happen to him still felt somewhat incredible.
“This is possible?” Odin scratched his head, looking at this “bargain son,” unsure whether to be happy or depressed.
He was happy that this Goddess was willing to have a child using his divine power; didn’t that, by approximation, mean she still had a place for him in her heart?
He was depressed that it was so sudden, completely skipping the process and directly presenting a result.
“Then why did you do this?” Odin couldn’t help but ask, “Don’t you hate trouble the most?
Raising a child is not an easy task.” Aphrodite’s eyes softened.
She looked down at the baby in her arms, who was yawning with an open mouth, looking utterly adorable.
“Who knows.” She spoke softly, with a tenderness she had never shown before, “Perhaps it’s because I’ve been alone for too long and it felt too desolate.
Suddenly, I wanted a child to accompany me, even if it was just a thought.” She paused, then looked up at Odin again, “Since I happened to have your Divine Seed, I just used it.
After all…” A faint smile curved her lips, “Your divine power is indeed very strong.
Using it as the child’s origin will give him a very high starting point.” Hearing this, Odin couldn’t help but grin.
“You truly are something.” He shook his head, his tone a mix of indulgence and helplessness, “Only you could come up with such a reason.” He looked at Aphrodite, his expression gradually becoming serious.
Now that things were clear, it was time for the real matter.
Although this woman acted impulsively, she would never call him to such a secluded place for no reason, nor would she show him this child without cause.
“So, today you actively invited me out, presumably for this child?” Odin stared into Aphrodite’s eyes, tentatively asking, “After all these years, you’ve never once actively invited me out.
Every time, I was the one shamelessly seeking you out.” At this point, Odin felt a little wronged.
But he quickly suppressed that emotion; now was not the time to dwell on such things.
Aphrodite put away her smile and nodded.
“Yes, that’s right.” Aphrodite’s expression became somewhat solemn.
She turned and looked into the distance of this space, as if gazing through the void at some faraway place.
“Olympus hasn’t been peaceful lately.” She said softly, with a hint of worry in her voice, “You must have heard, right?
Zeus has been acting like a madman recently.” At the mention of Zeus, Odin’s brows also furrowed.
Although Asgard and Olympus generally kept to themselves, he had indeed heard some rumors.
“Are you talking about…
the matter with Nyx?” Odin asked in a lowered voice.
“Yes.” Aphrodite nodded, “That arrogant fool Zeus actually imprisoned Nyx.
She is the Primordial Mother Goddess who represents night.” She sneered, a flash of disdain in her eyes, “Does he think he can do whatever he wants just because he’s the king of the gods?
This kind of behavior is simply playing with fire.
I have a premonition that Zeus will pay the price for his arrogance sooner or later.” She took a deep breath, lowered her head, and looked at the child in her arms, her eyes full of reluctance.
“The coming storm is not suitable for this newborn child.
Olympus…
is no longer a good place to raise a child.” Odin understood.
So, it was to avoid disaster.
“So…” Odin looked at Aphrodite, his heart suddenly pounding violently, an unprecedented sense of anticipation surging within him, “Are you thinking of coming to Asgard?” He took a big step forward, his expression so excited he could barely control it.
He had completely lost the composure of a Divine King, instead resembling a young man whose crush was coming to visit his home.
“Come!
Asgard is absolutely safe!” Odin said eagerly, “There are the best palaces, the strongest guards.
If you bring the child, I swear, no one will harm a single hair on either of you!” As he spoke, he even began to fantasize.
The Goddess living in Asgard, even if they couldn’t be husband and wife, just being able to see her every day would be wonderful.
This was an incredibly great thing!
“I can prepare the best residence for you, right next to…
right next to the Golden Palace!
Or anywhere you want!” Odin rubbed his hands, his eyes shining, “Frigga…
ahem, I’ll explain to her, she’s a reasonable person, she’ll definitely welcome you.” Although he said that last sentence with a bit of guilt, in the face of immense joy, that slight worry had been cast aside.
However, Aphrodite gently shook her head, shattering Odin’s beautiful dream.
“No.” She refused very directly, without the slightest hesitation, “I cannot go to Asgard.” Odin froze, the smile on his face still not having had time to recede, now stuck there.
“Wh-why?” he asked, bewildered.
Aphrodite sighed and raised a hand to smooth her wind-blown hair.
“I am, after all, the Goddess of Beauty of Olympus.” Her voice was calm and firm, “That is my home, and my foundation.
Although Zeus has gone mad, I cannot just leave.
I need to stay there and find a way to stop him, or at least…
do something before his madness leads to irreversible consequences.” She looked at Odin, a hint of helplessness in her eyes, “Moreover, if I run away too, Olympus will truly fall into complete chaos.” She lowered her head and offered the child in her arms forward.
“But this child cannot.
He is too young, too fragile.
He cannot be caught up in this impending Divine War.” “So…
I’m entrusting this child to you.” Aphrodite looked at Odin, her gaze becoming very serious.
“Although you can be a bit verbose, and sometimes a bit improper,” she rarely evaluated Odin so directly, “I know you are a good person.
Among all the gods who have pursued me, you are the most reliable.” Having been given a “good person” card, Odin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
But at this moment, being called reliable was undoubtedly the highest praise.
“I believe you can raise this child well.” Aphrodite continued, “After all, your divine power flows within him, so he is also your son.
In Asgard, by his true ‘father’s’ side, he can grow up safely.” Odin looked at the child offered before him, then at Aphrodite’s resolute face.
He knew she was serious.
A pang of sadness hit him.
Not only could he not bring the Goddess home, but he had to watch her return to face danger.
“You know I can help you.” Odin took a step forward, staring intently into her eyes, his tone utterly sincere, “Just say the word, and I can bring Asgard’s army to Olympus.
If we join forces, even Zeus would have to think twice.” Aphrodite smiled, a hint of relief in her smile, but more so, reason.
“That’s why I said you’re a good person.” She said softly, “But no.
This is an internal affair of Olympus.
If you intervene with Asgard’s army, the nature of it will completely change.” She shook her head, “At that point, it wouldn’t just be about stopping Zeus; it would be a full-scale war between two Pantheons.
The conflict would become uncontrollable, and too many would sacrifice their lives.
I don’t want to see that situation, and I certainly don’t want to ignite a Divine War because of me.” Odin fell silent.
He knew she was right.
As the Divine King, he was well aware of the consequences of inter-Pantheon wars.
It would lead to widespread devastation, perhaps even the premature arrival of Ragnarok.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.
“You’re still so stubborn.” Odin said helplessly, “And you’re still so independent.
I know that once you’ve made up your mind, no one can change it.” He looked at this woman, filled with admiration and regret.
“Then what will you do?” Odin finally asked, “Going back alone is truly dangerous.” “You don’t need to know that.” Aphrodite didn’t answer directly, merely saying faintly, “I have my ways.
You just need to do what I’ve asked of you.” She solemnly placed the child from her arms into Odin’s rough hands.
“Promise me, you will take good care of this child.” Her voice trembled slightly, her fingers lingering on the child’s small face for a final few seconds, then resolutely pulling back.
Odin carefully took the child.
The child was light, yet in his hands.
The little one, now in Odin’s arms, didn’t cry.
Instead, he reached out a tiny hand and grabbed Odin’s grizzled beard, tugging hard.
Odin winced, but then laughed.
He looked down at this little one with his own divine power, and a strong sense of responsibility welled up in his heart.
“Good.” Odin looked up, shedding all his playful demeanor, his expression becoming solemn beyond measure.
“I swear by the name of the Divine King of Asgard,” he said, enunciating each word, his voice clear and firm, echoing in the empty space, “I will care for this child as my own.
As long as I, Odin, live, no one shall harm him in the slightest.” Hearing Odin’s oath, Aphrodite seemed to finally let go of a great burden.
A relaxed smile appeared on her face, a smile of complete trust.
“I believe you.” She said softly.
Odin held the child, adjusting his posture slightly to make the little one more comfortable.
“Oh, right.” He suddenly remembered something, looked up, and asked, “Does this child have a name?
We can’t just keep calling him ‘child,’ can we?” Aphrodite nodded.
“I’ve been reading some books recently and found it very interesting.” She said with a smile, a glimmer of wisdom in her eyes, “So I named him ‘Arthas.’ In that culture, although the name sounds simple, I hope it represents a new, infinite beginning.” “Arthas…” Odin murmured the name twice.
Although it sounded a bit strange and not quite like an Asgardian name, since the Goddess chose it, it was the best.
“As for the surname,” Aphrodite looked at Odin, “just use yours.
After all, he’ll be living in Asgard.” Odin nodded, very pleased with this.
He lowered his head, looking at the male infant in his arms, and gently poked his chubby cheek with a finger.
“Did you hear that, little one?” Odin’s voice was so gentle it was unlike a decisive Divine King, “From today on, you are my son.” The infant seemed to understand his words, released his grip on the beard, and grinned at Odin, revealing a toothless, bright smile.
Odin felt his heart melt.
“Arthas Odinson.” Odin loudly announced the name, his tone filled with pride, “That is your name.
You will grow up as a Prince of Asgard, under my protection.” Aphrodite stood nearby, watching the harmonious scene of the old and young, her eyes slightly red.
But she quickly turned away, not wanting Odin to see her tears.
“Alright, now that the handover is complete, I should go.” Her voice returned to its usual calm, “Don’t let him get cold, take him back quickly.” With that, she didn’t look back, her figure gradually blurred, finally disappearing into the soft light.
Odin held the child, gazing in the direction she had vanished, remaining still for a long time.
After a long while, he finally lowered his head and said to Arthas in his arms, “Come on, son, let’s go home.”