Chapter 787: Chapter 7: Lies Don’t Hurt; It’s the Truth That Cuts Like a Knife_2 Chapter 787: Chapter 7: Lies Don’t Hurt; It’s the Truth That Cuts Like a Knife_2 “`
But because of the sacrifice of Ymir to create the world and the resulting great flood that killed most of the primordial giants, the relationship between the two sides could naturally not be considered harmonious.
In his memory, this uncle, after fleeing to Jotunheim, relied on foresight and exceptional insight to seize one of the main roots of the World Tree that possessed extraordinary power, settling there and claiming the Wisdom Spring that flowed beneath the root for himself. After drinking it daily, he eventually became the wisest of all the giants in Jotunheim.
However, for old enmity between the giants and the Asa Divine Race, even with Mimir being his blood uncle, he may not willingly offer help.
Moreover, even if the Wisdom Giant was willing to answer his questions, Odin dared not trust him entirely.
So, the Wisdom Spring?
Thinking this, Odin’s eyes seemed contemplative, almost understanding the hint from the Norn sisters.
After the World Tree was born, it had three great root systems.
The first root stretched into the Immortal Palace—Asgard, beneath which lay Urd’s well, possessing the sacred ability to purify filth and heal all wounds, the very one overseen by the three Norn sisters in the mysteries;
The second root extended into the Giant Kingdom—Jotunheim, beneath which lay the spring of wisdom and knowledge, rumored that a single drink from it would grant endless wisdom and knowledge; presently, it belonged to Mimir;
The third root delved into the Mist Country—Niflheim, under which lay the Hvagmir Spring, the life water that nourished the primordial world, possessing infinite vitality, but the Poison Dragon “Nidhogg” had taken residence there, claiming it as private property.
Obviously, if he wanted to solve the riddle left by the three Norn sisters, he could either seek counsel from the wise Mimir or drink the water of the Wisdom Spring to become a sage himself.
The choice was self-evident.
Odin made up his mind, shed his armor, put on a wide-brimmed hat and a cloak, transformed into an aged old man, and crossed the Rainbow Bridge to reach Jotunheim, the land where giants dwelled, alone.
Here, near one of the two original realms at the beginning of the world, the Mist Country Niflheim, the climate was cold, filled with permafrost and mountain ranges. While not completely barren, it was also very barren.
Odin took a breath of the icy air, chose his direction, and, cautiously avoiding the Frost Giants wandering the wilderness and the Mountain Giants dwelling in caves, set off toward the root system of the World Tree settled in this land.
After half a month of arduous travel, Odin finally arrived beneath the World Tree and saw the babbling spring.
At this moment, he was also covered in dust, with frost on his white beard and hair, exuding an aura of exhaustion, indeed, he looked every part the parched and starving traveler.
And this was exactly what Odin had intended.
Struggling to move his feet, he approached the Wisdom Spring. Bending down, he eagerly parted his cracked lips, ready to quench his thirst with the legendary Wisdom Spring Water.
However, a stone thrown from afar landed at Odin’s feet, forcing him to stop.
At the same time, a towering, robust figure rose from the knotted roots of the World Tree, casting an icy gaze:
“Stranger, what are you doing? This is mine!”
Odin stiffened and, with a humble and sincere expression on his aged face, said:
“Noble giant, I am truly parched from my journey, please be gracious and let me wet my throat with a drink from this refreshing spring.”
The Wisdom Giant Mimir quietly listened to the traveler’s plea, walked over with his vine staff, and after a scrutinizing gaze, a hint of mockery appeared in his eyes:
“You want it? Fine! Exchange it for your sharp right eye, traveler!”
No sooner had the Wisdom Giant finished speaking than Odin, knowing his identity had been seen through, without a moment’s hesitation, raised the Cursed Blade in his hand and gouged out his own right eye, smiling as he handed it to Mimir:
“This is what you wanted, now, what about what I want?”
Caught off guard by the decisive and ruthless act of the legendary Divine King’s nephew, Mimir was momentarily stunned.
“I have fulfilled our agreement, you wouldn’t think of reneging, would you? Giant?”
Hearing the profound reminder close by, Mimir awoke from his reverie, his expression fluctuating.
As a giant of wisdom, he of course understood the underlying World Laws of this Universe:
— Sacrifice and exchange.
Now Odin had, as he said, given his right eye. Should Mimir choose to renege, he would inevitably suffer the backlash of the World Laws, and be cursed by the obscure Fate.
Mimir glared at his nephew, snorted coldly, and threw the bloody eyeball into the Wisdom Spring. He then took a horn cup from his waist, filled it fully with Wisdom Spring Water, and handed it to Odin with a cold face.
Odin took the cup, ignoring the blood flowing from his right eye, and eagerly drank the spring water.
As the Wisdom Spring Water surged into his body, his brain seemed to be ignited by an arcane and profound force, his perception vastly expanded, and his thoughts endlessly diffused.
The problems that had once plagued him were answered one by one, and the mists shrouding the world lifted layer by layer before his eyes, making everything crystal clear.
Even though he now had but one eye, his perspective and gaze were far sharper and deeper than his former self, than those of the common and ordinary folk whose full sight was clouded by confusion.
In a world full of the blind, the one-eyed is king!
Odin, suppressing his excitement, looked around, his gaze soon captured by the World Tree in front of him.