Simulate the universe, starting with speedrunning Greek.

Odin met Ganlut because he heard that the little elf Kovash, who embodied the essence and wisdom of the gods, had been killed by the black dwarf brothers in the dungeon. After killing Kovash, the black dwarfs made his blood into candied fruit that could grant people talent and the ability to write poetry.

Later, the frost giants Ghi and his family came here to have the two brothers forge weapons and jewelry. The two brothers saw that the giants had a lot of gold and silver on them and had evil intentions, so they tried to kill the family. This angered the frost giant Sur, who came to avenge his family. Sur was the father of the female giant Ganlut.

And the candied fruit that symbolized the wisdom of a talented man and brought him poetic genius was thus obtained by Suer and given to his daughter Ganlute for safekeeping.

Odin, who wanted to seize control of the special divine office of 'poetry,' which was destined to have an extraordinary impact on both gods and men, transformed into a small snake and fell onto Ganlut's chest while trying to sneak into the giant's house to steal something.

When Odin later transformed into human form and was asked by Ganlut who he was, he shamelessly claimed to be her destined husband and tricked Ganlut into believing that the candied fruit was for their future child. Ganlut, being a rather wild giantess, was attracted to Odin's beauty and took the initiative to throw herself into his arms.

In this way, he successfully obtained both the beauty and the candied treasures—this is also the origin of Brach, the god of beauty and poetry.

However, due to the presence of night, humans were not born in the Norse world for a long time, which also meant that the little elf Korsh had no goal to travel and study.

In fact, the earliest poetry in the Nordic world should have originated from human civilization. Later, through Kolshu's travels, it was integrated and sublimated, gradually forming a prosperous system. This powerful talent flowed in its blood, and even gave drinkers the same talent.

But humanity has only just been born, and Korsh has never traveled to the human world. How could he possibly have a candied fruit that could give birth to the god of poetry?

In his haste to consolidate his divine authority, especially after losing his position as the ruler of the world, Odin was somewhat too impatient… Through his boundless wisdom, he forcibly brought forth the divine office of the 'God of Poetry' ahead of time, but he could not bestow upon Brachi the musical talent he lacked from the 'candied fruit'. This also resulted in Brachi's power lacking divinity.

Chapter Sixty-Six: The gods ceased to think; 'The contemplation of the wise'!

Even with Odin's help, which finally made Brach's singing perfect, it was instantly rendered useless when Night took out the harp artifact and played it.

For a moment, fearing a backlash and another embarrassment, Brach and Odin fell silent. A deathly, awkward silence descended upon the air.

If there's no comparison, that's fine. But if they first recite a poem, and then the god of humanity immediately utters another poem that completely overwhelms them in every way, then...

With this mindset, both Brach and Odin, along with the other gods, eagerly awaited the night's response.

Night's answer naturally did not disappoint the gods. When it spoke, "Of course there is..."

As expected—!! The gods: !!!

The next moment, Night suddenly plucked the strings, and at the same time, it began to slowly sing in a magnetic voice with a very poetic slow rhythm: "The Milky Way turns at night, drifting back the stars; the silver river flows with clouds, mimicking the sound of water."

Huh? What?

The first line of "Song of the Heavens," a poem by Tang Dynasty poet Li He depicting ancient Eastern mythology, appears in the world of Norse mythology. Even if you don't know who Li He is, you'll definitely be familiar with the lines, "Dark clouds press down on the city, threatening to crush it; armor gleams in the sun, like golden scales."

The moment they sensed the poetic atmosphere in the air, the wisdom of the gods made them realize that it was... poetry!

The poetic world, aided by the night's music, soon began to unfold, and a new world transformation emerged. This caused the gods to become restless, even experiencing a sense of bewilderment and nervousness akin to a primary school student listening to incomprehensible lectures in a university classroom. It was the kind of sweaty, husky-like feeling of being among a pack of wolves.

They could tell it was poetry, and they understood each word individually, but when put together, the meaning was completely incomprehensible. Wait a minute—is this really poetry? Shouldn't poetry be those simple, easy-to-understand, concise, and catchy phrases?

At this moment, the gods subconsciously looked at Brach, wanting to ask him for help, their eyes hinting that they wanted to know what that sentence meant.

Even though they don't understand, Blachy, as the god of poetry, surely does! Quickly take them to appreciate the charm of poetry from other worlds!

At this moment, Blach's expression became even more bewildered and helpless than that of the gods... He was completely dumbfounded!

Wait, don't look at me! I'm even more panicked than you are!

Here's a joke: the god of poetry can't understand poetry! And in order not to embarrass the Norse gods, Brachi can't even admit the truth that he didn't understand what it meant at all.

And so—the entire divine realm fell silent.

Although they didn't understand the meaning of the poem Ye had just recited, the wind spirits, each with a pure heart, joyfully gathered around Ye, immersing themselves in the beautiful poetic atmosphere that filled the air.

'like--!'

An emotion of "How beautiful!" emanated from the newborn elves. Although they couldn't understand it, they could still sense that it was something incredibly beautiful.

This pure expression of emotion is the most beautiful praise and response to the poem, yet the gods neither praise nor criticize, remaining silent.

Night: "The cassia blossoms in the Jade Palace have not yet fallen, and the fairy maidens gather fragrance while their jade pendants dangle."

When the second line was recited that night—under the bright moonlight and a starry sky, a beautiful celestial palace, faintly visible, appeared in this illusory world, and all the gods were immediately captivated by the palace.

Freya looked up and saw a beautiful cassia tree in the celestial palace. Within it, the figure of a graceful goddess seemed to wander, skillfully plucking petals while singing a melodious song. The breathtaking scene made her feel ashamed of herself. Not in appearance, but in the difference in celestial aura—that ethereal beauty was something she lacked.

This subtle beauty from the East... Even if they still don't understand the meaning of the poem, when they see the beautiful scenery before them, the gods can already understand the wonderful artistic conception that the poem wants to express.

It was clearly just a hazy, unreal celestial palace, yet the gods' gazes were firmly drawn to the indistinct figures of the goddesses (fairies) within. This hazy, ethereal beauty captivated their hearts. "Gulp..." That was the sound of a male deity swallowing.

He couldn't understand—he hadn't even clearly seen the faces of the goddesses in those celestial palaces, so why did that atmosphere have an attraction for him no less than that of the goddess Freya?

"After much anticipation, she finally emerges, still half-concealed like a pipa player playing a veil"—the beauty of being partially hidden is sometimes more mysterious than beauty that is fully revealed. How could the unrestrained and wild Norse gods normally experience such a high-level, dimensional attack from the Eastern universe?

Freya, the goddess of love, was already the most beautiful and charming goddess among all the gods, like a white moonlight in the hearts of the gods. Her charm was beyond question... But now—?

The night continued to speak, and then he poured out all the verses in one breath, like a silver river flowing with the music:

"At dawn, the Qin concubine rolls up the curtain at the north window; a small phoenix tree stands before the window, its branches adorned with paulownia leaves."

"The prince plays the sheng, the goose pipe is long, he calls the dragon to cultivate smoke and plant jade grass."

"Wearing a pink rosy-red sash and a lotus-silk skirt, she strolls along the green islet, picking orchids and sweet potatoes in spring."

"The sun shines eastward, and Xihe can ride a horse; the sea dust is newly born beneath the stone mountain."

That night, I finally recited the entire poem in one breath. If I didn't understand the meaning of the first two lines, I could at least roughly match the literal meaning with the recurring illusions and guess a few points of meaning.

As the gods spoke the last few lines that night, their bodies grew increasingly stiff and completely numb.

That is a completely unfamiliar realm that even the wisdom of the gods cannot comprehend. Even the most intelligent person would feel bewildered if they had never been exposed to this kind of thing before. Ask Merlin, the sage who was known as all-knowing in his own time, to look at the Olympiad mathematics and see if he can understand it.

At this moment, the gods' minds went blank, and they were quite certain that they could no longer understand anything. But even so, the gods could tell that Night wasn't just spouting nonsense. That melodious, magnetic voice, with its appropriate rises and falls at every opportune moment, did indeed possess a unique beauty. And the ever-changing poetic world it constructed had already revealed its beauty in its entirety.

How could this be? With the wisdom of these gods, they couldn't even understand a simple poem?

And so, the gods remained silent.

From confusion to tension and anxiety, from unease... to madness and despair, and finally to the point where the brain completely gave up as if suffocating itself, and then finally—the gods stopped thinking.

Who are they, where are they, and what are they doing?

At this moment, it was as if they were facing the truth of the universe, the reason why the world was born, who I am, and who is the ultimate philosophical question. One by one, the gods were frozen and turned into wooden figures.

Until, Blach’s voice broke their 'wise contemplation'.

It was a cry of excitement and shame, like a student on a pilgrimage, who felt that if he heard the truth in the morning, he could die content in the evening; it was an exclamation of utter amazement, as if his heart had been pierced by the arrow of Apollo, the god of art.

"Ah~!!"

Chapter Sixty-Seven: A single script can have three interpretations; the more detailed the explanation, the more confusing it becomes.

Nine out of ten artists are crazy, and the tenth is particularly abstract.

Brachi, who made the bizarre cry, was not ashamed of it. Instead, he quickly exclaimed with great excitement and shame, "Great! It's really great! Hymn to the hymn—hymn to this ancient and sacred hymn."

Brach suddenly burst into tears again, and said in an extremely sincere tone, "I am completely unable to describe the excitement I feel at this moment, you know? But... distinguished guest, could you please explain the meaning of this poem to us in detail? It is very shameful to say that as the god of poetry, I can feel the beautiful rhythm and imagery, but I cannot fully comprehend the full meaning between the lines of this poem! This is nothing short of a great pain for me, the god of poetry."

He was going all in! He didn't care if people knew he couldn't understand it at all. The moment he felt the poetic charm, his love for poetry and beautiful things as the god of beauty and poetry reached its peak. At this moment, he looked excitedly at Gwyn, the god of mankind.

His reverent and respectful gaze seemed not to be looking at a fellow countryman, but rather—a divine being!

If the Norse gods are the gods of all things, then for Brach, the night at this moment is his god! It is the guiding light on his path of pursuing beauty and art!

With Blach's opening, finally—the gods could no longer hold back and began to utter various enthusiastic praises.

But almost all the gods, while praising it, echoed it with the same comment. Like Brachi, they could only understand 'parts,' and were unable to fully grasp the poem's meaning. Great, true gods of poetry and music! Could you please explain this poem to them in a little more detail?

Although seeing the result (the imagery and illusion) directly is already very beautiful, it would be a great pity for them if they could not experience the complete creative process of poetry.

Instead of answering, Night began playing a second time. This time, the 'poem' was simple and easy to understand, and the gods finally understood it.

When the magnetic voice rang out again among the Aesir gods, this time even many elves from the divine realms were drawn over from afar.

"The Milky Way in the sky still flows gently through the night, with glittering stars drifting by. The clouds on both banks playfully mimic the tinkling of water. The golden osmanthus tree in the Moon Palace always blooms and fills the air with fragrance before its blossoms fall. Fairies gather the osmanthus blossoms and sew their fragrance into sachets, hanging them on their sashes, their aroma intoxicating. Nongyu in the Heavenly Palace rolls up the precious curtain and opens the jade window, revealing another bright dawn. The paulownia tree in front of the window is forever as lush and verdant as ever..."

It was precisely because they understood the beauty depicted in the words that the gods felt even more keenly the profound depth contained within the poetry. Could such a few seemingly incomprehensible lines of poetry really describe so many wonderful scenes?

As they searched for familiar places by referring to the text, they quickly found the corresponding scenes (places) by comparing them with the imagery they had seen before, and couldn't help but exclaim in amazement.

The image of the goddesses described in the poem, known as 'fairies,' hanging sachets on their ribbons stirred a passion in the gods, while the gods felt an irresistible itch... The goddesses' eyes lit up: could they really do that to enhance their charm?

The poems are full of beautiful descriptions—even if we cannot see the faces of those goddesses clearly, the gods have already imagined the most beautiful faces in the world with such beautiful descriptions.

What kind of poetry can evoke endless imagination in the reader without focusing on the goddess's appearance? This must be it!

The final night describes: "The goddess who symbolizes the sun—the most noble goddess between heaven and earth—will one day ride the heavenly horse, bringing the sunlight, and fireworks will light up the earth. The sea beneath the stone mountain will once again recede, turning into land and dust will rise. A day in heaven is a hundred years on earth. How can I not be heartbroken?"

For a moment, people seemed to see a supreme and incomparably noble goddess. She was so dazzling that even Odin, the king of gods who had almost lost his powers, was drawn to her.

Just when people thought the poem had ended, the night continued to pluck the strings, speaking: "The Milky Way turns, and the echoing shooting stars shimmer with silver light. Nebulae flow like water along the 'riverbed.' Listen intently, and you can almost hear a gentle murmur. The fairies in the moon palace are picking petals to put into sachets, and the osmanthus trees, though still in bloom, exude fragrance. This is because the celestial trees never wither, and the celestial flowers never fall. Even though 'fragrance fades easily and prosperity withers' in the mortal world, all things in the celestial world will never perish. When Qin Mugong's daughter, Nongyu, played her flute and followed the blue phoenix, the petite blue phoenix before the paulownia tree was still the same divine bird from back then. Nongyu has been in heaven for over a thousand years, yet her beauty remains unchanged. The blue phoenix is ​​still as delicate as ever. The passage of time has left no trace on them." The world changes—! That night, the poem was interpreted in a different way and described in more detail. This time, the gods experienced a deeper level of beauty, deep emotion, and poetic beauty in the poem, and were all stunned.

This is not only a poem depicting the beauty of the heavenly realm of gods, but also a poem lamenting the beauty of heaven while mortals squander their youth and fail to leave behind their talents.

For the gods, who were born immortal, the fear of death and envy of the gods' longevity that they could not comprehend in the short-lived race seemed to be felt with unparalleled clarity.

A single poem had employed three distinct descriptive methods, each with a vastly different level of difficulty. The gods were utterly bewildered, their hearts filled with disbelief and shock. Could such a small text truly reveal so many beautiful expressions?

If Brach once dared to claim he had some knowledge of poetry, he is now completely afraid to speak up.

Poetry? He knows nothing about poetry! Especially in the presence of the noble, true god of poetry, the more detailed and easy to understand the beauty of the poem was described to them, the more powerless Brach felt!

And the voice of the night continued: "Dawn and dusk are distinct, yet even immortals rise early and retire late, seemingly no different from mortals. The immortal prince Jin plays his slender sheng, commanding divine dragons to till the clouds and sow precious herbs—how leisurely and carefree! The legendary fairies of Qingzhou stroll there, enjoying the evergreen trees and lush grass, a scene as beautiful as spring. The fairies gather orchids, chatting and laughing. Later, Xihe drives his sun chariot, time flies by, and the sea around the three sacred mountains of the East Sea has recently dried up, turning into land, raising dust in the air. Every day brings new changes—how wonderful is the passage of time under the changing seasons!"

Chapter Sixty-Eight: A Frenzied Killing Journey, From the Weeping Dawn to a Symphony of Destiny and the Divine

Isn't it beautiful?! Beautiful—!

That night, the poem described the beautiful scene in even greater detail. The gods, who should have fully understood the beauty and profound meaning of the poem, suddenly found that the night had uttered even more words whose meaning they could not fully comprehend.

Examples include 'rising early and retiring late', 'talking and talking', 'cultivating the fields amidst the smoke and clouds', and 'lush green grass'.

They were like a group of illiterate people, their understanding limited. As gods, they could appreciate the beauty of the words, even surpassing Loki, a god known for his eloquent speech. However, the emergence of even more incomprehension made them uneasy.

It's not just the insatiable thirst for knowledge that makes a god want to further appreciate the beauty described by those words, but also the embarrassment and urge to die from the feeling of "I think I understand, but I don't really understand!"

As the creators of all things, they pride themselves on being the wisest beings in the world. How could they possibly admit that there are so many things they cannot immediately understand?

As if sensing the gods' embarrassment, this learned and noble god, whom they already feared like a student facing a university professor's sudden questioning, smiled and said, "Gentlemen—still no comment? The poetry from the East is too different from the style of this world, and you don't quite accept it... Let's change to some poetry more similar to this world's style."

Ye would never admit that he deliberately chose a poem that was quite profound and difficult to understand, even among ancient poems depicting mythology. If it were a poem by the poet Li Bai, let's not even mention anything else—"When will the moon be clear and bright? I raise my cup to ask the blue sky."

At least the beautiful scenes that the Poet Immortal wanted to express are mostly understandable and can be guessed from the literal meaning of the words. Li He's "Ballad of the Heavens," however, belongs to the type of poetry that leaves enough room for the reader's imagination and interpretation. If one were to think about it at night, one could even use beautiful language to weave more than a dozen detailed descriptions and interpretations of the gods.

It's quite amusing to see these gods, who were once so arrogant and haughty, treating poetry as the property of their world and its unique specialty, now looking so embarrassed and uneasy.

When the god showed a slightly compassionate gesture that night, suggesting that he could change the poem for the gods, the gods all breathed a sigh of relief!

Change it! Change it now!

Although the night was quite gentle, without any aggressive or overbearing mockery, the gods, who inexplicably felt scorned, felt no shame. On the contrary, they were shameless and even moved to tears of gratitude. Was the Sun King finally going to take care of them, these barbaric and backward gods, and perhaps he was finally going to change to a poem of a similar 'caliber' to theirs?

Ah—! I'm free!