"Hephaestus, do you know about the ecliptic?"
"I've heard of it."
Russell's question did not stump Hephaestus. The murals and carvings in his temple contained records of the sun, moon, and stars. "The sun moves against the backdrop of the starry sky, completing one circuit each year before returning to its original position. That path is called the ecliptic."
From the perspective of geocentrism, or from Earth's perspective while looking up at the night sky, Hephaestus was absolutely correct.
Russell had no intention of correcting him. In a world with a mythological backdrop, there was no point arguing over such things.
Besides, the celestial bodies in this world were indeed somewhat strange. Applying the knowledge Russell knew would instead be wrong.
He said directly, "Along the ecliptic, every evenly divided region has a constellation nearby. There are exactly twelve in total."
"You mean the zoo?"
"What?"
Now it was Russell's turn to look completely baffled. He could not understand what a zoo had to do with anything. If it meant what it literally sounded like, he wanted to apply to be its director.
After Hephaestus explained, Russell learned that on Olympus, the gods believed the constellations in the sky were formed from all kinds of animals, and so they called the countless stars filling the heavens a zoo.
A group of gods led by the Fates, including Apollo, the God of Light, had built an immense and complex system of astrology based on the positions of stars in the sky, the ways they intersected, and so on.
Then there were gods such as Zeus, who had nothing better to do and wandered around all day. They liked to combine exciting stories with constellations, rename them, and give them different meanings.
No exaggeration, no slander: before Zeus pulled up his pants,