As soon as the craftsman left, all eyes immediately turned to Freyja.
Her face instantly paled with intense anger, and her teeth bit into her lower lip, nearly drawing blood.
The cold emanating from her body made several nearby goddesses involuntarily step back.
However, in the midst of this extreme anger, a flash of inspiration appeared in Freyja's eyes, as if she remembered something important.
Her heaving chest gradually calmed, and the pallor on her face disappeared, replaced by calm.
She slightly tilted her head and cast her brother Freyr a glance that only the two of them understood.
Freyr immediately understood.
He stepped forward, his initially sunny face now covered with frost, and looked directly at Odin, his voice clear and firm, with the undeniable pride of the Vanir:
"God-King of the Æsir! The craftsman's skill may be astonishing, but his request is blasphemy against my sister and all the Vanir gods!"
He paused, and his gaze shot towards the door, as if he could see the giant craftsman through the wall.
"But!" Freyr's voice suddenly sharply rose, with a deliberate provocation and cunning: "If he insists on marrying my sister, it's not entirely impossible!"
The gods, including Odin and Loki, looked at him in surprise.
Freyr declared loudly, each word ringing out: "He must come up with a unique bride price, worthy of my sister's status! I demand he use the sharpest sword in the Nine Realms—Tyrfing, forged by the God-King Narcissus—as a betrothal gift! Otherwise, it's impossible!"
Tyrfing! The rumored masterpiece of Narcissus, said to draw blood whenever unsheathed, its light illuminating the entire hall, sharp enough to cut the threads of fate itself!
Its name echoed throughout the Nine Realms; it was a treasure coveted by countless warriors!
Odin's one eye flashed, and he naturally knew of Tyrfing, but the sword was in Narcissus's possession.
This request was almost equivalent to a refusal.
However, Freyr's next words completely stunned all the gods, including Odin.
He raised his volume so his voice could reach outside the temple, making an ostentatious declaration:
"But that's impossible! Because this supreme sword, Tyrfing, was gifted to me by the God-King Narcissus!"
With that, Freyr seemed to try to prove it. Divine light flashed in his hand, and a long sword appeared, its body dark but faintly flowing, tearing through all cold light!
The sharp aura of the sword and the ominous aura emanating from it instantly filled the entire Council Hall of the Golden Palace!
This was the magical sword Tyrfing! It was actually in Freyr's hands!
At this moment, Freyja's tense body relaxed slightly, and the corner of her mouth curled with a slight hint of a successful plan.
This was what the God-King Narcissus had told them before their departure and instructed them to show 'when they ask for Freyja's hand in marriage', to deter and break certain deadlocks.
Now it was being used on this arrogant craftsman!
You ask for my sister?
But the sharpest sword in the Nine Realms is in my hand; where will you find a better treasure?
This was almost an unsolvable deadlock.
Odin rubbed his furrowed brow, as if trying to squeeze out the remaining worries and compromises from his head.
His one-eyed gaze swept over the gods with various expressions in the Golden Palace and asked in a deep voice: "What say you?"
For a time, the council hall seemed to explode.
Male gods and goddesses spoke one after another, expressing their opinions, their voices mingling noisily.
"Quiet!" Odin suddenly roared, and the coercion of the God-King spread like a substance, instantly causing all voices to abruptly cease.
"Speak one at a time!"
Under Odin's majesty, the gods began to express their opinions in order.
However, despite their different expressions, the core opinions were surprisingly consistent:
"Her Highness Freyja is a treasure of the Vanir; how can she marry a craftsman of unknown origin? This is a common insult to both pantheons!"
"The sun and moon are connected to the light of the Nine Realms and should not be traded!"
"Right! Even if he can build a high wall, the price is too high! We must not agree!"
Freyja herself was even colder, her voice as sharp as an icy blade: "I think this rude and reckless man should be immediately beaten and expelled from Ásgarðr, never to approach again!"
Hearing the almost unanimous opposition from the gods, Odin did indeed have an inclination in his heart.
He spoke slowly, his voice final:
"So," said Odin, the Father of the Gods, "the decision is made, and our answer is no."
Just as the gods thought it was over, and even some breathed sighs of relief, a dry, clearly attention-seeking cough sounded from a corner of the hall.
All eyes instantly turned to the source of the sound—Loki.
He leaned against a pillar, a cunning expression on his face, gently shaking his finger as if holding important information everyone had overlooked.
"I think I need to point this out," Loki drawled, his eyes gleaming with calculation.
"You've all missed a huge problem."
"We've missed nothing, you troublemaker," Freyja immediately retorted sharply, having not the slightest fondness for Loki.
Loki paid her no mind but slowly explained: "You've all ignored the fact that what this stranger proposed is absolutely impossible to accomplish."
He deliberately emphasized the word 'impossible'.
"Who in the world could build a perfect wall, so high and thick as he describes, in just eighteen months—a winter, a summer, and a winter—that even ants cannot scale? Whether it's giants with infinite strength or us with divine power, no one can do it! And he's just... seems like a mortal. I bet, with my beautiful skin, he'll never be able to do it!"
As he spoke this, most of the gods began to nod quietly in agreement, their faces touched and suddenly enlightened.
Yes! This was simply an impossible task! They had just been swept up in anger and weighing the price, ignoring the most basic facts!
Except for Freyja, who was still angry, watching the gods easily persuaded by Loki, she only felt a wave of sadness and anger.
"You are all fools," she said coldly, "especially you, Loki, because you still think you're very smart."
Loki smiled at Freyja's sarcasm and continued: "He boasted of an impossible feat. Therefore, I propose the following: agree to his request and the price he asks..."
As soon as this word was spoken, the gods stirred in confusion!
Loki raised his hand and pressed it down, signaling for everyone to be silent: "But! Extremely strict conditions must be imposed on him—he must build this wall alone, without any outside help! Furthermore, three seasons is too long; we will demand he complete the entire wall in a single season—right before the end of this winter! If by the first day of summer anything remains unfinished in this wall—and it surely will—then we will pay him nothing, and he will simply go on his way!"
"How could he possibly agree to such a condition?" The guardian god Heimdallr frowned, thinking it was too harsh for the other party to accept.
"What's the difference between this and having no wall at all, and what advantage could it possibly bring us?" Freyr also asked.
Loki could barely contain the impatience on his face, as if laughing at the gods' brains for not turning.
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