Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 358 The Schemers Assemble: The Military Manual Emerges in a Dream

"Only fools deploy tactics in reality; true tacticians have already simulated war in their dreams, long before the enemy falls asleep."

—Excerpt from *The Art of War: Dream Battle*, Book One

Above the Dream Sea, a solemn tranquility is slowly spreading.

The Lost One silently broke through the fog, its hull shrouded in a thin, ethereal light, half-hidden, as if shuttling between dreams and reality.

Its shape resembles a huge whale skeleton, carrying a certain ancient and mysterious majesty, as it slowly enters this secret realm surrounded by star patterns.

At the top of the bridge, Si Ming stood quietly before the array of life patterns, holding three scrolls that shimmered with dreamlike colors, his expression as unmoving as an ancient star.

Without uttering a word, he calmly unfurled the scrolls one by one onto the chessboard in front of him, which was engraved with an ancient star map.

Beneath the chessboard, the interwoven glowing light formed what he had drawn as the "Dreamlike Military Strategy Map".

The battle has not yet begun, but the groundwork has already been laid.

The first volume, the Blood Moon Secret Map passed down by Rex, is currently flickering with eerie crimson dream flames.

The scroll is meticulously and flawlessly depicted, accurately portraying the sacrificial site beneath the Twelfth Diocese Church—a complex array of twelve intersecting points.

Mysterious runes spread like blood vessels, forming a sacrificial ritual about to descend upon the world.

The blood of nine low-level Awakened Ones has already flowed, and the star-patterned veins are slowly igniting.

And the one who ultimately led this ritual was none other than the name that Si Ming knew best yet was also unfamiliar with—Maiden.

Siming's fingertips lightly touched the scroll, as if touching the cold, unspeakable nightmare reality, and he murmured, his voice seemingly coming from the deepest part of the illusory sea:

"Meddes...you actually embarked on that path of calamity."

He then turned his attention to the second volume.

The second volume, secretly delivered by Celian from the West Tower of the Royal Palace, features beautiful and clear handwriting, yet it carries a suffocating heaviness.

The scroll details the state of King Henrian VII's life lines as he teetered on the brink of collapse, every word he uttered and every glance he exchanged with his children.
Even the moment when the "Pale War Lion" life mark is passed down.

At the end of the scroll, Liseria's handwriting trembled slightly, revealing a resolute yet restrained emotion:
"I do not seek the throne; I only wish to protect the last glimmer of life-giving flame that has not yet been extinguished in my father's life."

After reading it, Si Ming's lips twitched slightly, and his eyes revealed an undisguised admiration and sigh:
“You never wanted to sit on that high position, yet you already possessed the heart of a true king.”

He gently closed the scroll and looked at the third volume.

The third volume features faint, ethereal wind patterns shimmering on its surface; these are the palace defense layout diagrams sent by Ian through the mysterious whispers of the wind.

Orion's ambition, the four-layered defense of the royal palace, and the intersection of countless mysterious troops are as clear as a star map projection, leaving no gaps undetected.

The last sentence on the scroll, written in hasty handwriting, is filled with the oppressive force of a desperate gamble:

"I don't know how much longer we can drag this out. If you really have a way, now is the time."

Si Ming's lips curved into a barely perceptible smile, then he put the scroll away and tucked it into his sleeve.
"The time has come, our vice-captain, it's your turn to step in."

He turned to look at the stern of the ship, where Allison, the illustrious general with sharp, piercing eyes, was discussing the layout with Calvino.

She sensed Si Ming's summons, looked up and slowly approached, her figure as upright as a sword, her steps decisive and steady.

The Fate Master slowly handed her the three scrolls, his gaze fixed on her like stars:
"The next move in this war is yours to make."

Allison took the scroll, her eyes showing no hesitation, no wavering, only the cold, resolute determination unique to her when her life runes burned:

"I understand."

She lightly touched the scroll with her fingertips, and the once calm life lines began to pulsate again between her fingers, as if echoing some deep-seated belief in her heart.

"From this moment on, this battle of dreams will no longer be just about their struggle and sacrifice. I want to tell them that the stars in their dreams can also illuminate their destiny in reality."

She turned around and looked at the vast, dreamlike sea ahead of the Lost One.

A gentle breeze rustled, carrying countless unspoken whispers from the depths of darkness, as if softly reminding:
"War never belongs to the one who starts it, but to the one who ends up overturning the chessboard."

A confident smile played on Allison's lips, her pupils reflecting the stars:

"It's my turn."

Si Ming gazed at her retreating figure, muttering to himself, his tone filled with certainty and anticipation:
"You have been preparing for this moment, Glory Star... You will illuminate not only the path to the throne, but also the deepest secret of the entire Dream Sea."

Below the boat, the deep sea was as smooth as a mirror.

The Lost One, like a longsword piercing the veil of dreams, is slowly sailing into the depths of war.
They set sail for the place where the bottomless abyss and the highest honors awaited them.

Allison stood silently in the center of the bridge of the Lost One, holding the three scrolls of secret letters given to her by Si Ming.

The words on the scroll floated slowly in the dim light and shadow, like the unspoken whispers of the stars.

She closed her eyes, and the lines of her destiny quietly bloomed on her palm, while a star chart emerged from her body.

A stream of light-like veins traversed the bridge space, connecting to the ancient life pattern plaque engraved with a faint glow.

In the blink of an eye, the Illusory Dream Army Diagram materialized in the void.

Above the bridge, a lifelike three-dimensional capital city was formed by interwoven lights: the city walls were imposing, the streets and alleys were intertwined, and the docks, churches, military camps, and the royal palace that occupied the lifeline of the empire all silently appeared in the void.

This scene reminded her of countless military exercises in the past, but now it was no longer an exercise, but a real clash of fates.

She murmured to herself, the incantation low and dreamlike:
"Memory, unfold."

As the life lines surged, the defensive structure of the capital city, deep in his memory, quickly rose from the depths of his consciousness and precisely embedded itself into the tactical sand table before him.

Ian's defensive deployment was quickly identified and positioned by her—

First level: Wind Whisper Domain, extremely precise control over the world system, as solid as a rock but too reliant on it;
The second layer: the Golden Guard, Harlan's surrendered soldiers and miscellaneous mercenaries, their morale as thin as ice, easily broken;
The third layer: Orion's personal guard, loyal and elite, but too few in number and with a weak defensive line;

The fourth layer: the noble defense legion, outwardly united but inwardly divided, each harboring their own agenda, and extremely prone to splitting up.

Immediately afterwards, she precisely incorporated the information about the sacrificial ritual from Rex into the coordinate system of the royal capital.

The sacrificial nodes of the Blood Moon resembled faint crimson rifts, shimmering slightly on the star map, concealing a terrifying tension that was difficult to describe.

Then, the map of the palace secret passages provided by Liseria and the map of the underground tunnel network accurately drawn by Celian were overlaid to form a multi-dimensional and interwoven star network.

She opened her eyes, and the tactical node map of the capital city slowly rotated in the dim light before her. She parted her lips slightly and calmly declared:
"The tactic is—a ring of fire in the mirror."

The strategic intent suddenly became clear:

To create confusion within the royal palace, they used the illusion of an "unknown force attacking the palace" to disrupt Orion's succession of the "Royal Mandate Chart".

By provoking Medici's sensitive nerves, making her mistakenly believe that Orion made the first move, she was forced to launch the first attack, thus creating internal strife.

For a truly worthy successor, Liseria and Edel were vying for a window of opportunity to legitimately inherit the throne. Her expression was cold, her gaze piercing through the void:
“We don’t need to break down any defenses ourselves; we need to guide them into the trap of their dreams.”

The details of the strategy's implementation unfold with razor-sharp precision:

They spread false information about "Medes' followers infiltrating" to Orion's Golden Guard through cryptic whispers, inciting panic.

By using a mysterious and cunning scheme, they created the illusion of an "illusory legion" storming the palace, causing Orion to concentrate his main forces and lose control of the outer perimeter.

By interfering with Medici's precise targeting of the sacrifice, she made a fatal misjudgment at a critical juncture;

This incites escalation of hostility between the two sides, leading to mutual infighting and ultimately undermining the palace's defenses from within.

Allison's gaze gradually cooled, her voice low but firm:
"With their lifelines, they disrupt their own order;"

"Use their star charts to burn away their own folly."

"The throne has never been chosen by anyone who arrives first; it belongs only to those who are truly able to control their own destiny."

She slowly walked to the edge of the bridge, her gaze passing beyond the endless, dreamlike sea, where the last faint rays of dawn were faintly visible:
"We don't need to fight this war; we just need to knock down their own dominoes."

"The fiery ring in the mirror will close completely tonight."

The entire bridge of the Lost One trembled slightly at her voice, as if it too were being drawn into the impending vortex of abyss.

Si Ming stood silently to the side, a deep smile flickering in his eyes. His gaze pierced through the void, as if fixed on the impending shadow of the celestial calamity, and he murmured softly:
"We are not fighting for anyone, but for the balance of destiny itself."

Allison stood quietly at the heart of the Destiny Chart, her Destiny Brush gently drawing a line in her hand.
Like drawing an incredibly clear trajectory of destiny in the void, everyone will dance along this trajectory, and she is the hidden commander who holds everything in her hands.

Below the ship, the deep sea was as still as a mirror.

The mirror reflects an unspeakable future, and the Lost One is slowly sailing into that abyss of fate from which there is no turning back.

Heading towards that silent yet world-shaking war where dreams and reality intersect.

Allison's gaze was sharp as a blade, and her whisper echoed in the darkness like the tide: "We only need to knock down the first domino, and the rest they will do themselves."

She turned her head slightly and looked at Selene in the shadows of the bridge.

The girl wore a cloak that shimmered with a blood-red glow, her face calm as if she had nothing to do with the war around her.

Si Ming stepped forward and handed her a dreamlike ball of light, floating with star map runes, his tone carrying a hint of playful nonchalance:
"Your carrier pigeon, the courier."

Selene took the illusory light, nodded gently, and a faint smile appeared on her lips.

As the life lines surged, her figure gradually became transparent, like a wisp of smoke merging into the endless dreamlike sea.

Allison gazed into the void where she had gone, her eyes as deep as the desolate stars: "All the pieces have been placed on the board, except for Baroque, who has not yet returned."

Si Ming smiled faintly, the stars in his eyes flickering slightly:

"Don't worry, when he returns, that will be the time to ignite the real war."

At this point, the Dream Capital Map was nearly perfect, with every life rune and every node interwoven together with the precision of a woven thread.
She constructed countless deadly traps and ways to break the deadlock. However, a faint unease always lingered between Allison's brows.

She turned and stared at the side of the bridge, at the area that was always dark and gloomy on the battle map—the Royal Capital Port defense line, the military headquarters fire towers, and the remote command and control chain.

There, it seemed, was a black void forgotten by fate, waiting for the arrival of the one who could truly decide everything.

She said in a deep voice, "Edel."

Si Ming paused slightly, raising an eyebrow: "That mild-mannered prince is indeed the most troublesome pawn."

Allison continued calmly, "He controls the entire empire's main fleet, artillery batteries, port defenses, and the church's surveillance network. I can influence everyone's fate, but I can't touch him in the slightest."

Si Ming remained silent, only lowering his head to quietly flip through the old, yellowed "Old King's Military Exercise Manual" in his hands, a subtle smile curving his lips.

Allison sighed, gripping the bridge railing, her gaze piercing through the illusory mist:

"We are like a group of shadows setting fires on the city wall, but we are missing the one who will ignite the real fire on the ground."

At that moment, the rear door of the ship's cabin opened gently. A familiar scent, mixed with gunpowder and sandalwood, crept silently into the bridge, like the shadow of an uninvited guest.

A tall, casual figure leaned against the doorway, the dust still clinging to his grey cloak as if telling the story of a battle that had just taken place.

Beneath his slightly disheveled black hair, his eyes still held that cynical yet incredibly sharp smile.

Baroque has returned.

He raised his hand and waved lightly, a familiar apologetic smile playing on his lips:

"Sorry everyone, I was a little late because I took care of some trouble on Nameless Island."

Si Ming rose, his voice tinged with a smile, yet his gaze was profound:
"Welcome back, Commando Captain. Your battlefield is ready."

Allison turned around abruptly, her previously tense brows instantly relaxing, and a genuinely relieved smile appeared on her face—a rare sight.

She stepped forward and handed him the battle map markings of the gray area, her tone calm yet sharp:
"Baroque, you've come back just in time. This darkness needs your fire to light it. Bring Edel down from his commanding seat."

The life lines on Baroque's fingertips ignited instantly, and his deep laughter carried an unspeakable mix of excitement and danger:
"The guys on Nameless Island have been itching to try it out. You tell me where to burn, and I'll burn there."

As soon as he finished speaking, Baroque slowly opened his eyes in his dream.

He woke up in Black Gold Harbor, West Bay, the island of the nameless.

He stood up, and before him stood the massive steel warship, the Doomsday Rose, standing silently, like a black behemoth about to awaken.

A deep, powerful drumbeat rang out from the bridge, battle flags were slowly unfurled, and soldiers stood in formation, ready to go.

Baroque donned his commander's cloak, raised the enchanted banner symbolizing Allison's command, and his voice echoed throughout the harbor:

"The capital city sank into the shadows, the gods looked down indifferently from the heavens, and the empire fell into eternal silence."

"Tonight, we will use our own flames to write the true chapter of destiny."

His voice was like a war drum, like a spell, and even more like a fuse that plunged the whole world into madness and chaos.

The Doomsday Rose slowly started up, and the fleet's engines roared in unison, igniting the dark night sky of the Nameless Island.

At that moment, a wild smile curved Baroque's lips as he gazed across the sea toward the distant capital, murmuring softly:

"The flames of fate will eventually burn away the lies they wove themselves."

The cannons of the Doomsday Rose are slowly heading towards the royal capital that is gradually sinking into nightmares, waiting to unveil the prelude to this war under the stars.

"Tactics are not lines drawn on a map. Tactics are people you trust lighting every fire you've planned, behind the scenes."

—Excerpt from "The Chronicles of Dreamy Warfare: The Fire Ring Chapter - Prelude"

(End of this chapter)