Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 359 The Reflection Gate: The Secret History of Harlan

"Harlan never seeks glory; it only asks us to look up at the mirror and see that face, driven mad by hunger."

—From *Harlan's Diary: The Tenth Night of Reflections*

On the eve of the turmoil in the capital, all the conspiracies and struggles seemed to converge at this moment in the deepest part of the Thirteenth Quiet Island.

The place is as silent as the void, even time seems to be holding its breath.

This space is not recorded on any star map, and no one knows its location. It exists in the royal archives but will never be written about—it is itself an unverifiable "virtual portal."
It is sealed by a twelve-layered mirror array, and only the inheritor of the Royal Mandate Chart has the qualification to briefly open it.

Tonight, this "doorless door" is slowly pushed open.

In the void passage, the life-pattern candles spontaneously combusted along the way, and star chart symbols emerged one by one in the air.

Arthur Trean led the way, the Worldline runes on his palms extending like spider silk, subtly yet dangerously guiding the two along the path.

Victoria followed closely behind, silent, her steps perfectly synchronized with Arthur's.

If it weren't for the sound of her soft breathing behind her, people might even doubt whether she was just Arthur's reflection rather than a real person.

The Mirror Corridor meandered and twisted, the stone steps endlessly spiraling, until finally, they arrived before the Void Gate.

In the center of the stone wall, there is a crystal that resembles a shattered mirror, within which non-linear light and shadow flow.

It's as if the past and the future are locked in a struggle, trying to break free of their cage.

Arthur stared for a moment, then slowly began to chant an ancient and obscure incantation:

"A mirror has no eyes, and a shadow has no heart."

"Servant of the One, reverse reality, open the reflection."

The moment the incantation ended, cracks spread across the mirror like a spider web, the passage slowly opened, and the void gate welcomed visitors who had been silent for many years.

The space behind the door was as cold and desolate as a star-studded, deathly place, filled with an indescribable sense of oppression, and an ancient aura that transcended reason was awakening.

In the center of the space, a huge crystal floats in the void, as if it has its own gravitational field, twisting everything around it into the shape it needs.

The crystal was as black as a bottomless pool, yet deep within it flowed faint silver-white patterns, like the bloodline of some ancient deity.

That is the most mysterious legacy of the Harlan royal family:
Reflecting crystal.

This crystal was once sealed within the Isle of Silence by Henrian with absolute force. He never even thought of possessing it, only intending to imprison it forever within the Gate of Nothingness.

Because this crystal never belonged to mortals, it was an essential medium for the ancient god Saslazer—Haran—to descend to earth.

Arthur gazed at the suspended crystal, his eyes calm and familiar:
"You're still here."

His whispered tone was as if he were talking to an old friend, his voice carrying a hidden tenderness and tacit understanding.

Victorian stepped forward, standing directly beneath the reflecting crystal. Inside the crystal, her face suddenly split in two.
Half smiling, half crying, then merging into a face without eyes or mouth.

The blank space on that face seemed to whisper to her.

A slight smile played on her lips, her voice soft yet carrying a chilling confirmation:
"It's awake."

This means that the god they served, Saslazer, had never been asleep.

He remained on the other side of the mirror, quietly waiting for the moment to be released.

On the obsidian altar beneath the reflecting crystal lies a heavy, ancient, sealed book, its cover bearing the ancient insignia and obscure script of the Trelian royal family:

Harlan's Dedication.

Victoria extended her slender fingers and gently touched the seal. Her life runes trembled slightly, the seal opened silently, and the pages turned on their own, exuding a decaying yet alluring scent of paper and ink.

Each page is made of mirror-patterned paper, filled with royal secrets, the ink a dark red like dried blood.

Whispers of inhuman voices echoed between the pages of the book, causing the temperature in the entire space to drop further.

Arthur's gaze fell upon a transparent, ancient sheet of paper at the edge of the altar, depicting a bizarre and terrifying scene:

On the shores of Mirror Lake, countless figures were nailed to pillars of reflection; the reflections in the lake were not of themselves.

Instead, there were countless distorted and blurred faces—those eerie outlines that stretched out like tentacles, greedily devouring the past and future of the sacrificed.

Victoria ran her fingertips over the words and read softly:
“Saslazer needs no flesh, nor does He crave blood. What He devours is ‘all the possibilities that you have ever existed’.”

“When you are thrown into the Mirror Lake, everything about you will be replicated, and your life will become one of the countless mirrors that He has endlessly woven.”

“Every mirror is a writing of His upon reality.”

Her voice was low and soft, yet it sent chills down one's spine:
"He is not in the heavens, nor in the earth; He exists only in the mirror image that you have not yet noticed."

Arthur's lips curled into a slight, mocking smile:

"So the ancestors of Haran sacrificed the town and threw the innocent into the Mirror Lake, just to appease a god they could never gaze upon?"

"Is this reverence, or fear of inevitable destruction?"

His voice carried a hidden mockery, yet his eyes held an indescribable excitement and determination.

The brother and sister gazed at the silent crystal that had never truly fallen asleep, as if they had already foreseen the indescribable nightmare that was about to descend upon the capital.

The Lord of Mirror Lake is about to open his eyes.

And they are the ones who opened the door for it.

They turned to the last page of the book, where a folded parchment letter was attached.

The paper is mottled, like freshly congealed bloodstains, and the handwriting is vigorous and solemn, as if writing each word was at the cost of one's life.

“I conquered Harlan not for territory, nor for fame.”

"I only want to seal this deity."

“I have seen with my own eyes the reflection of my unborn son’s body on the edge of Mirror Lake.”

“I once saw in a dream that Trean transformed into a giant mirror, and all his people were seen by his eyes.”

"This god must never be summoned by anyone again."

The words exuded an unquestionable resolve; it was a secret oath personally written by Henrian VII.

It records the final scene he foresaw on the edge of Mirror Lake, and his fear that he was willing to pay any price.

Arthur slowly closed the book, his movements casual, as if he had just finished reading an ordinary play:

"That's why Father never killed us. He spared us, provided for our bloodline and status, and even buried the key to the door in our bodies."

"He expects us to consciously and willingly submit to his fears."

Arthur chuckled, but his laughter was like the cold glint of a blade:

"...How kind of you."

Victoria stood to the side, a smile playing on her lips, as cold and ruthless as ice crystals reflecting the silvery moonlight.
"In the capital, the only one who still doesn't understand the truth of fate is our foolish elder brother."

They turned their heads at the same time, staring at the reflected crystal suspended in mid-air.

Inside the crystal, the image of the royal palace was as clear as when one was waking from a nightmare, faintly glowing with a blood-red light.

It was a harbinger of the impending power struggle, and even more so, a sign that an ancient god was about to awaken.

Suddenly, the image of Henrian VII's last audience flashed through Arthur's mind.

At that time, Henrian was bedridden, breathing weakly, his mind seemingly drifting between dreams and reality. Even the imperial physicians were unsure if he would ever wake up again.

But that night, the dying old lion king suddenly opened his eyes and ordered his men to summon Arthur.

It's not Orion, not Edel, and certainly not Liseria.

Instead, it was Arthur, who was taciturn from childhood and as unpredictable as a reflection in a mirror.

As Arthur entered the royal palace, it was still dark. Seven flameless lamps with life patterns were burning softly in the palace, their glow like the ghosts of past dynasties, silently witnessing this secret handover.

Henrian sat upright on the couch, his body as thin as a withered branch in the wind, his face pale, but his eyes were so clear that they were unsettling.

He waved his hand, and the eunuchs and guards withdrew, leaving only a father and son in the vast royal palace.

—

"I had a dream."

Henrian spoke, his voice low and hoarse like a dying lantern, yet possessing a power that pierced the soul. "I dreamt that you walked into the Isle of Tranquility, opened the door I had sealed with my entire life, and then... the entire empire was cast into the mirror in your hands."

Arthur stood silently where shadow and firelight met, his eyes as unfathomable as a deep pool.

Henrian said slowly:

“When you were little, you never liked to talk. You liked to stand alone in front of the mirror and look at your own face... and you would look at it for a whole day.”

“That’s when I realized that you were not the spark of Trelian, but a shadow behind the mirror, wearing the face of my son.”

He coughed violently twice and struggled to pull a yellowed, old book from under his pillow; it was a copy of "Harlan's Donation".

He pushed the book toward Arthur, his eyes filled with an indescribable pleading:
“Read it, Arthur.”

"You may not believe me, but you must know why I spent my entire life sealing it at the end of the quiet island."

Arthur quietly took the book, his fingertips tracing the crack on the cover, his face calm and expressionless.
"Are you begging me?"

Henrian lowered his gaze, remained silent for a long while, and then sighed softly:
"Yes."

“I’m not asking you to inherit the throne… I know you won’t be merciful.”

"I'm just begging you, please don't open that door."

Arthur lowered his head and stared at the book, his eyes reflecting the endless void like a mirror.

He answered softly, his tone neither warm nor cold, revealing no emotion whatsoever:

"I understand."

Just four words, neither promising nor refusing, like an inescapable judgment of fate.

At this moment, Arthur looked up again at the reflecting crystal before him.

Deep within his eyes, it seemed as if some indescribable excitement was slowly awakening.

Victoria stood beside him, gently brushing away the invisible dust in the air, her voice drifting like an echo in a mirror:

“He wants us to fear Him, but the one who truly fears Him is himself.”

The brother and sister gazed at the divine crystal in the void, as if they could already see the ancient eye opening behind its reflection—

Their mission is to open the path to reality for those eyes.

Seven days later, the seal on Shizuishan Island quietly crumbled.

Arthur stood silently before the reflecting crystal, gazing at the crystal-clear core of the mirror.

My gaze seemed to travel through the crystal back to the royal palace seven nights ago, back to that secret and doomed conversation.

He spoke softly, as if whispering to the crystal before him, or to a figure long since vanished into the dust of history:

"Do you know, Father..."

"You once conquered Haran with the wrath of the Lion King, sealed the gods with the mysterious diagrams, and swept across all nations with the Ghost Ship Rose."

"However, you have grown so old that even your pleas are reduced to a mere sigh."

He slowly closed the book "Harlan's Dedication" in his hand and handed it to Victoria behind him, his tone cold yet carrying an unspeakable sarcasm:

"The world you long for is no longer reflected in this mirror."

When the twins stepped out of the secret gate of the island, the night in the capital was as peaceful as ever, the streetlights cast a warm yellow glow, and the soldiers patrolled in an orderly fashion.
A faint, dark red glow emanated from the top of the distant palace tower, as if the empire was still firmly under Henrian's control.

But both Arthur and Victorian knew that it was nothing more than a fleeting reflection on a mirror.

The true empire is silently cracking and peeling away beneath the mirror image, gradually being devoured and reshaped by an indescribable force.

The two walked side by side into the old alley of the royal capital's black market. The narrow alley was lined with mirrors tightly covered by "silver-patterned talismans" on both sides.

This path, never marked on any star map, is the secret route through which the Mirror Tide Order penetrated deep into the capital.

Wherever they passed, ripples appeared on the mirror's surface, and blurry faces opened their eyeless eyes in the mirror, murmuring in unison:
"The two shadows have returned; the mirror gate is about to open."

Soon, they arrived at a long-abandoned clock tower. The giant clock inside had long since stopped running, its surface covered with dust and cobwebs.
The interior, however, has been completely renovated and has become the core stronghold of the Mirror Tide Order in the capital.

Victorian gently raised her hand, and a giant mercury mirror unfolded in the air, its surface reflecting the hidden silver nodes throughout the capital:

At the end of Broken Tower Street, in the black market council hall, at the hidden sentry posts on the outskirts of the military camp, and in the confessional on the edge of the church...

The secret chambers and hidden rooms of the noble merchant guild, even the ruins of an abandoned church... every point shimmered with a faint but undeniable silver light.

She went through them one by one, her voice as cold and calm as mercury:
"The seventh-level ritual is complete, and the incantation hinting at the fifth symbol of the doctrine has been quietly engraved into the margins of the Royal Academy's books."

"Thirteen 'mirror stories' are widely circulating among the people."

"The first believers mastered the 'Mirror Spirit Echo Technique,' which can be awakened at any time and become our tentacles."

Arthur's gaze fell upon the image in the mirror, and he asked calmly:
"What is the layout of the mirror projection passageway on the lower level of the palace?"

Victoria raised the corners of her lips, her smile a mixture of mockery and pity:

"It has even extended to the mirror in Orion's personal bathroom. Every time they look up to brush their teeth, they can see their dead reflection in the mirror."

Arthur turned away noncommittally and stepped into the central hall of the clock tower—the place where the Harlan Mirror Legion lay dormant and awaiting orders.

The twelve soldiers stood as still as statues, their faces as cold as mirrors, their eyes rippling with a faint yet eerie light.

This indicates that they have been partially accepted by the "Source of Reflection" and are about to become the forward shadows of Saslazer.

Arthur's voice was deep and resolute:
"Tomorrow night, the seal will be broken. You will open the path to Sasrazer's arrival from above Mirror Lake with blood and shadow."

The twelve Mirror Warriors nodded silently in response, their movements perfectly synchronized.

Victoria added softly:

"When the initial response from Sasrazer is sensed, the seal on the Reflection Crystal will break down on its own, and at that moment, the Lord of the Mirror Tide will peer into our world."

They slowly climbed to the top of the bell tower, overlooking the entire capital city under the night sky.

The wind ruffled Arthur's cloak, and he murmured:
"The door will open soon."

Victorian gazed at the distant royal palace, its eerie red glow resembling bloodstains, her voice fading like a dream:

“Saslaze, your feast has already been prepared for you.”

Night fell heavily, as if to swallow up all the light in the capital.

At the top of the East Tower of the capital, twin siblings stand silently side by side.

Looking down, Trean's century-old foundation remained prosperous as ever, but in the sky, a strange, blood-red moon was slowly appearing—not a celestial phenomenon belonging to the real world, but a terrifying sign that the Mirror Tide was about to invade reality.

At this moment, the four mysterious and insidious lines of defense of the royal palace have taken shape, like a huge defensive heart, but they have also trapped themselves in the net of fate.

Meanwhile, at the Sacred Fire Altar on the other side, Medusa's sacrificial ritual was tearing apart the originally stable order of the life runes at an alarming speed.

Victorian narrowed her eyes, her voice soft yet carrying a chilling undertone:
"The throne will be destroyed because of their endless greed for one another. Only we can offer the true throne of God."

Arthur slowly closed his eyes, pointed his finger towards the royal palace, and said softly:
"We are merely the ones who open the door."

A strange ripple suddenly rose in his eyes, like a mirror tide, and distant, reflected crystals echoed his thoughts from the depths of the void.

An invisible and distorted, enormous non-plane is slowly emerging from the void behind the mirror.

He called out softly:

“Saslaze, we will offer you the entire capital.”

Victoria chuckled softly and finished his prayer:

"It...is already hungry."

A faint yet clear cracking sound came from the Mirror Tower in the distance. A certain boundary was completely torn apart, and the god Sasrazer slowly opened his eternal yet empty eyes.

"They are not traitors, they are surrenderers. They are not sacrificers, but gatekeepers."

They did not vie for the throne, for they already knew that the king was merely the first grape to be eaten at His banquet.

—Excerpt from "The History of the Mirror Tide Collapse: The First Night, Countless Times You"

(End of this chapter)