Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 355 Son of the Mirror Tide: The Return of the Twin Shadows

"It is not you who are gazing into the mirror, but the mirror that is learning from you. What you know and believe is only what the reflection allows you to see."

Quoted from the second section of the chapter on sacrificial rites in the *Mirror Tide Secret Sutra*.

Before the morning mist had completely dissipated, the royal archives in the capital city were already greeted by the first rays of cold, white morning light streaming through the windows.

The old historian, Mus, sat upright by the window, holding a black quill pen etched with the marks of time, slowly copying a slightly yellowed top-secret file:

In 677 AD, King Henrian VII of the Azure Lion led a fleet of six Shadow Fleets to land on Harlan Island.

Using the Royal Three Lives Card as collateral, the Mirror Lake Tide Seal was broken, forcing the Harlan tribe to completely submit…

As the pen tip traced the lines on the paper, Mus suddenly felt the wind outside the window become low and eerie.
It seemed to carry ancient whispers from the distant North Sea, slowly and sinisterly chanting curses that no one dared to utter openly.

He involuntarily stopped writing, looked up at the distant Mirror Tower standing hazily in the morning mist, and felt a chill that he couldn't describe rise in his heart.

Whenever he copied this historical material, which was taboo by the Trean royal family, he would have a vague feeling that something had already quietly awakened in the depths of history on the day Mirror Lake collapsed.

At the same moment, in the glass tea pavilion in the palace gardens, Prince Orion was sitting with Arthur, drinking tea together.

The attendants and guards stood silently behind him, three of them clad in mysterious silver-patterned armor, their eyes empty and cold, like dolls, making them difficult to look directly at.

Orion raised his glass and took a sip, his gaze lingering on Arthur's face, which wore a near-perfect smile. His voice was deep, yet sharp.

“You don’t look like a Harlan person at all.”

Arthur smiled slightly, bowed his head humbly, and said:

“I grew up in the palace of Trelian since I was a child, so why should my royal brother treat me as a foreigner from the other side of Mirror Lake?”

Orion smiled noncommittally but did not pursue the matter further.

Deep down, however, he knew very well that this seemingly unassuming half-brother...

It's impossible not to know about the "Queen Harlan's Blood Oath" buried deep in the royal vault—on that letter written in blood, there is a vow that still chills the Trelian royal family to this day:

"On the day Mirror Lake collapses, my curse will never be lifted."

Arthur, no matter when or where, always manages to conceal all his scheming with the most appropriate smile, making it difficult for anyone to see through his true nature.

Orion slowly swirled his teacup, then abruptly changed the subject, his tone carrying an almost imperceptible chill:

"Speaking of this matter, my 'Golden Guards' have suffered heavy losses recently. Although the northern legions have been gradually withdrawn, the guards in the capital are still insufficient."

Upon hearing this, Arthur immediately stood up, bowed deeply in respect, and his expression was extremely courteous.

“If you don’t mind, I happen to have a few old acquaintances who once served in the garrison in northern Harlan.”

Although they have served Trerian for many years, their loyalty is beyond question, and their skills are outstanding; they are willing to wield their swords and protect their brother, the king.

Orion tapped his fingers lightly on the rim of his teacup, remained silent for a moment, and finally nodded slowly:

“Since you are willing to make the recommendation, I will naturally trust you. These Harlan soldiers can be temporarily assigned to the First Battalion as reserves. I will personally inspect them.”

Arthur bowed deeply once more:
"I will follow your wishes, Your Highness."

He raised his head, his gaze humble, yet a faint, almost imperceptible shadow seemed to flicker deep within his pupils as he softly said:

"The loyalty of the Haran people is perhaps like this tea, seemingly light and elegant, yet penetrating to the bone, for fear of failing my brother's trust."

Orion put down his cup, gave him a meaningful look, a slight smile playing on his lips, and let out a soft chuckle:
"Some teas may seem ordinary, but they have already seeped into your very being, and once you've tasted them, you'll never forget them—isn't that right?"

The two exchanged a glance, as if they both had unspoken thoughts, but simultaneously stopped smiling and tacitly looked away.

The royal palace outside the pavilion still stood silently in the morning light, like a storm buried in the past.

It is quietly brewing, waiting for the day when it will shatter the mirror of history once again, releasing those indescribable, indelible curses.

Above the mirrored corridor, light and shadow play out. Though no one is there, one can hear faint whispers like ripples on water, the sounds emanating from the reflections in the mirrors, like a whisper between a dream and reality.

Arthur walked slowly and deliberately, his steps unhurried, as if measuring some unreachable boundary. He lowered his head and murmured to himself, his voice as cold and icy as a thousand-year-old spring:

"The Mirror Tide has flowed into the royal city. The first rift has already burst open..."

Before he finished speaking, the reflection on the mirror pillar behind him slowly distorted, and the corners of his mouth lifted, forming a strange, ambiguous smile—a smile that was completely different from his real self.

At this moment, on the training platform in the fifth hall of the Royal Palace Military Affairs Department, a tense atmosphere permeated the air, and mysterious patterns, like silent lines, quietly wove together destiny.

The chief evaluator, instructor, and mystery texture monitor were all seated, and the test began as scheduled.

However, when their eyes fell on a particular column of names on the list, everyone's expression immediately turned strange:
"The old army of Harlan, border warriors who have surrendered, personally led by His Highness Prince Arthur."

Twelve silver-gray figures slowly stepped into the martial arts hall, almost the instant they entered...

A strange vibration seemed to emanate from the air inside the hall, as if they had not stepped into an ordinary martial arts arena, but rather shattered the boundary between reality and dreams.

Each warrior wore the same silver-gray battle suit, without badges or family crests.
He wore only a strange mirror emblem on his chest. The mirror was as smooth as an icy lake, yet it eerily did not reflect anyone's image, as if it had swallowed the past and future of all those who watched him.

One of the soldiers slowly raised his head, and the moment his gaze met that of the instructor, the instructor felt a strange unease, as if a reflection in a mirror had revealed the deepest memory of a mistake he had made in the past.

The inspector's voice was suppressed and trembling: "The life lines of this group of people... actually have multiple layers. It's as if each person's fate has been copied and pasted together many times..."

Testing begins.

During the basic mystery test, the twelve warriors completed it silently and swiftly, without any apparent abnormality. But the moment the simulated battle began, everyone's expression changed—

They never issued a single command, yet they coordinated perfectly, each movement echoing the reflections in a mirror.

Every step they took—dodging, counterattacking, and moving—was breathtakingly precise, even giving off a vaguely terrifying illusion—they not only saw through the enemy's next move, but also understood every subtle action between themselves.

The examiner frowned, and a wind element interference card in his hand was suddenly activated, a sharp stream of air slashing towards the nearest reflection warrior like a knife.

Just when everyone thought he was about to be defeated, the warrior whispered an incantation:
"Mirror tide, displacement split image."

In an instant, his body shattered in two like glass, and a blur of motion was sent flying by the wind to a distant wall.

Another figure silently appeared behind the examiner, a cold dagger already pressed against the latter's throat.

silence.

The examiner was as stiff as a sculpture frozen in time, cold sweat trickling down his forehead, unable to utter a single syllable.

Behind the observation window, Arthur calmly watched the scene unfold before him, a slight smile playing on his lips, and whispered something no one else could hear:

"Mirror Tide: It doesn't fight against reality. Mirror Tide: It only replicates your next destiny."

At this moment, the lines of fate seemed to have finally found a crack, and the shadow of the mirror had quietly spread into the veins of reality.

-

Finally, the examiner signed his name on the offer letter with trembling hands.

The Reflection Legion was thus officially incorporated into Orion's private guard, becoming the "Golden Guard, Auxiliary Battalion, Shadow Line Squad".

At this moment, beneath the floor tiles of the martial arts hall, twelve cold, mirror-like patterns silently appeared.
Like dark vines, it spread silently, secretly and firmly penetrating the depths of the royal palace, merging into the unseen yet real massive star map array.

Jingchao has finally taken the first step into the city.

Arthur stood in the corridor, his fingers gently tracing the cold surface of the mirror pillar beside him, murmuring to himself, as if talking to another self reflected in the mirror:
"The mirror has already adhered to reality; the next step... will be for them to open it themselves." The reflections on the mirrored pillars on both sides of the corridor smiled slightly at this moment.

At the end of Wangdu Theater Street, a century-old theater, officially marked as "unstable foundation, temporarily closed for repairs," stands quietly.

Like a monster abandoned by the times, it conceals a turbulent truth.

The outside world only knows that it is abandoned, but no one knows that on the third basement level of the theater, there is a Hall of Mirrors that will never reflect reality.

Every new moon night, a secret meeting, known as the "Mirror Council," is held in this Hall of Mirrors.

It has no lights, no real human faces, only eerie figures shrouded in a mirrored, misty silver, and countless whispering murmurs.

That night, Victorian, dressed in a long, dark robe, stood like a shadow in the center of the Hall of Mirrors.

She raised her hand and waved it lightly, causing ripples to spread across the mirror's surface like a lake. A silent summons pierced through the whispers of dreams in every mirror, reaching the consciousness of everyone present:
"The parliament is in session."

Instantly, the misty silver in the mirror hall trembled slightly, and from within the first mirror image, a hoarse and icy female voice emanated, carrying a malice as subtle as spider silk:
"The poison line on Pota Street has been woven, and from tonight onwards, the children's nighttime songs will be sung with our mirror language melodies."

In the second mirror image, an illusory hand appears, holding a gold coin in its palm, its voice deep and authoritative:
"You have already taken control of 30% of the silver salt market. As agreed, I need to obtain the first four stages of the Mirror Tide Manufacturing Technique within three days."

A calm male voice came from the third mirror, its tone devoid of any emotion, as if it were mechanical:

"We have deciphered Medici's sacrificial runes. Shall we immediately activate the 'Protocol on the Spread of Believers' to completely sever the source of her faith?"

The fourth mirror emitted only a deep, mournful cawing of a crow, conveying a profound sense of approval and acceptance without uttering a word.

Victoria gazed at each of the mirrored reflections, responding softly. Her tone was slow yet penetrating, as if each word could pierce the other's soul:
“Very good. Continue to spread the traces of the Mirror Tide. Remember, you are no longer loyal to interests, secrets, or power; you are only loyal to the ‘Reflection’.”

She doesn't control these forces; she completely replaces their understanding and twists their desires into reflections in a mirror.

Reality is only one side of the truth; Mirror Tide is the true master who controls their souls.

A moment later, she turned to face the thirteenth mirror, the seat she had reserved for herself.

A blurry face slowly emerged in the mirror.

This face is extremely eerie; it smiles at times, cries at others, and then shatters like glass in an instant, splitting into countless unfamiliar yet strangely familiar faces.

She stared at that eerie face and whispered to herself:
"who I am?"

The mirror image paused slightly, then gave a dreamlike and ethereal reply, as if from a bottomless abyss:

"You are the Throne of Shadows. You are the shadow left behind after the fall of reality."

Victorian closed her eyes, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on her lips:

"Very good, the Shadow of Reality has returned to its place. The Mirror Tide will begin to spread from the capital."

She slowly stepped out of the Hall of Mirrors, her footsteps landing on the cold, smooth floor as if she were stepping into another void.

She looked back and saw that the twelve mirrors had gone out, leaving only the thirteenth mirror, which still shimmered with a silent smile, as if anticipating her return.

She spoke softly to herself, her tone light yet enigmatic:
"God does not need an altar."

"God, all you need is a perfect reflection."

Her voice gradually faded into the darkness, and the Hall of Mirrors then closed completely, disappearing beneath the capital as if it had never existed.

But within all the mirrors, countless invisible eyes began to gradually open.

The mirror tide has already arrived.

The moonlight faded, and the Mirror Lake fell silent.

This ancient body of water in the northern border of the capital has long since been erased from maps and history, sealed off under the guise of a royal forbidden zone.

It had become a desolate place that people called "unapproachable." But tonight, this mirror-like lake will once again open its unfathomable eyes to the long-lost darkness.

At midnight, the ceremony resumed on the small rocky island in the center of Mirror Lake.

Three dark figures stood silently on the lake, their feet on the water, their robes completely dry, like ghosts wandering between reality and their reflections.

They were the three priests who were once considered legendary on Haran Island—Sasshal, Mirrorbone Envy, and Whispering Shano.

Standing by the lake were Arthur and Victorian. They had shed their royal crowns and extravagance.
He donned that old Harlan suit—a black and silver fabric—that only appeared in his darkest dreams.
The embroidered star map reflected on the chest shimmered slightly, but the family crest and crown were missing.

This was a private ceremony for the son of Sasrazer.

"The heart of Mirror Lake is slowly awakening," the voice of Shenyu Shano seemed to come from the bottom of the lake, cold and hollow, with an ancient resonance that sent chills down one's spine.

"The Lord of Reflections is collecting the memories of the Shell of the Real World," Mirror Bone Envy whispered, his voice like shattered glass being pieced back together in the darkness.

"The twelve mirrors have been laid out, and only when the thirteenth mirror is in place will the rift in the world open."

Sass Hal slowly raised his hand, and a strange fragment of a star array appeared in his palm, as if it were a specimen taken from a rift in the world.

Victorian slowly knelt by the lake, her forehead lightly touching the water's surface; her reflection was slightly distorted on the water's surface.

The voice was devout and fervent: "The dream of Saslazer has descended upon my soul. I no longer doubt that we are His reflection. The meaning of our existence is to welcome His coming."

The three priests nodded in satisfaction, then all turned their gazes to Arthur.

Arthur did not respond immediately. He slowly raised his head and gazed at the moon reflected in the lake. In the eerie and heavy silence, the moon seemed even more real than the moonlight in the sky.

"Are you hesitating?" Shenyu Shano asked slowly, her tone seemingly probing yet concealing a deeper threat.

“No,” Arthur smiled slightly and said calmly, “I’m just considering which one is more suitable to be the sacrifice.”

He lowered his head, his gaze as deep and unfathomable as the turbulent undercurrents of a mirror-like lake: "Is it Trean, or Harlan?"

The three priests were all slightly startled upon hearing this.

Arthur slowly stepped forward, his eyes as calm as a still lake reflecting the moon's reflection, his tone indifferent yet icy and resolute:
"My mother's last words were very clear: what Mirror Lake swallows is never defeat, but betrayal."

“Harlan is not our true home,” he continued calmly, “nor is Trean.”

He stretched out his palm, and a mysterious card slowly rose from beneath the lake's surface. The card was entirely dark silver, its surface shimmering with twisted and strange patterns, as if it could tear reality apart in an instant.
Reflection Source Festival: Mirror Tide Returns

World-type High Priest Card - Saslazer Exclusive Prerequisite Contract Card
Arthur gently stroked the card, a cold smile curving his lips:

“They—Harlan and Trean, the two worlds we once stood upon—were nothing more than sacrifices offered to Saslazer.”

In an instant, the lake surface rippled violently, and the moon's reflection in the water shattered like a mirror.
Twelve enormous shadows gradually became clear at the bottom of the lake, like twelve dark pupils, coldly watching everything above the mirror-like lake.

Victorian and the three priests bowed their heads and chanted, the incantation echoing slowly in the night like a deep, resonant tide:

"Reflection is reality, reality is illusion... The eternal reflection of Sasrazor will return to the world..."

Arthur gazed at the rippling lake surface, his lips slightly parted, as if whispering to something about to awaken deep within the mirror-like lake:
"Offer to the world, welcome back the reflection."

The moonlight gradually disappeared behind the dark clouds. Above Mirror Lake, there were no more stars or moonlight, only unfathomable darkness silently gathering.

"Kingdoms and faiths are merely tools used by reflections to learn the truth. When the mirror tide returns to its rightful place, the truth will end."

—Excerpt from "The Mirror Tide Bible: Chapter of Collapse"

(End of this chapter)