Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 368 The Royal Palace Rises: The Storm of the Royal Decree

"When the legitimacy of the throne is questioned, even blood relatives become enemies between siblings."

—From *History of Empires: The Fragmentation of the Royal Palace*

As night fell like an endless curtain, the fourfold barrier above the royal palace revealed fine, spiderweb-like cracks amidst the deep, resonant chants of incantations.

The palace, once regarded as an eternal symbol of the empire, now resembles a torn old script, its layers of protective charts crumbling tonight.

Orion stood in the center of the long steps outside the royal palace.

Their gazes were sinister as they watched the silver ranks slowly emerge from the darkness into the royal courtyard—the Divine Grace Knights approached like pronouncements of fate.

The incantation etched a cold, divine punishment trajectory beneath his feet.

He heard a sigh echoing in the void deep within the royal palace.

I heard the indescribable whispers that belonged to the script of fate.

He knew that Medici had arrived.

First line of defense: the Noble Guard.

These guards, entrusted with the highest duty of protecting the royal bloodline, should have been as steadfast as rocks in safeguarding the order and symbolism of the throne.
However, when a whisper from the inner sanctuary spread, their loyalty, like pages in the wind, instantly wavered.

"Your Majesty has fallen."

The sound was like a star falling to earth, easily shattering the once-solid shield of belief.

Dressed in imperial robes, Medusa rode a pure white steed slowly from the center of the procession, her gaze cold yet carrying an irresistible pressure.
"The throne is empty, and the destiny is out of order."

"I am Medici Trean, the eldest daughter of the Emperor. Tonight, I will act on behalf of the Emperor to quell the chaos in the palace."

She did not wield any weapon, nor did she cast any spells; she merely revealed her "bloodline"—which was sharper than any blade.

The deputy commander of the First Guard trembled as he removed the cloak emblazoned with the royal emblem from his shoulder, knelt on one knee, and swore an oath with his life's insignia, his voice low but resolute:
"Noble guards, respectfully welcome the eldest princess to the palace."

With numerous legion commanders seconding the motion, the first line of defense protecting the royal palace completely collapsed under the invisible pressure of "legitimate succession."

Orion, enraged and horrified, stepped forward and roared at the top of his lungs:
"Are you all insane? I am the first heir to the empire! How dare you betray the imperial plan—"

Before he could finish speaking, he was calmly interrupted by an elderly guard who had served for over thirty years and whose face was as aged as a stone statue in an ancient castle:

"Your Highness, the matter of His Majesty's assassination is still unresolved."

"Our loyalty is to the empire, not to suspicion."

The word "suspicion" was like a sharp, incantation-like blade, piercing Orion's fragile heart, the very symbol of royal power.

The second line of defense: the Golden Guard.

Orion personally shaped this guard—over the past three years,

He recruited desperate and mysterious warriors, private armies of fallen nobles, remnants of the South China Sea army, and even black market sorcerers from all over the world, forming this vast and complex Guardian Legion.

Their destinies are fragmented and chaotic, but they are absolutely consistent in one thing—they are loyal only to Orion.

As the Divine Knights ascended the steps of the royal palace, the soldiers of the Golden Guard instinctively launched a chaotic and mysterious magical offensive.

But what responded to them was a holy incantation resonating in unison from seven high-level summoners of mystic arts:
As the incantation resonated, a pure silver light curtain suddenly unfolded between heaven and earth.
In the center of the light curtain, the magnificent main gate, like the gate to a divine realm, slowly opened, and holy light poured out, illuminating the entire royal palace square as if it were daytime.

The next moment, the Divine Knights solemnly emerged, countless silver-white wings unfurling behind them, like angels descending to earth.

Dozens of six-winged angel phantoms summoned by the high-level life-type mystery card [No. 088·Holy Judgment Wings·Lefel]
Wearing golden holy robes and wielding holy flame swords, they instantly formed a crescent formation and slowly pressed towards the Golden Guard.

These angelic phantoms are not real living beings, but rather a concrete projection of the divine mirror power within the cards.

Maintained by the knights' reason—yet strong enough to overwhelm any chaotic crowd.

The Golden Guard soldiers mostly possess low-tier Mystic cards, although some do hold mid-tier Life-type Mystic cards.
Faced with a synchronized battle formation composed of high-level divine mirror images, their resistance was utterly futile.

Silver holy light swept across like a tidal wave, instantly collapsing the Golden Guard's destiny map. Soldiers fell in droves, and the ground seemed to be instantly covered with broken winter wheat.

Orion watched helplessly as his personal guard crumbled in the holy light, his destiny shattered, his chest felt as if it had been struck by a heavy hammer, and he could barely breathe.

He then realized with a start that the defenses he had meticulously woven were nothing more than a scene destined to fail in the script of fate.

At the edge of the divine light, Medusa slowly dismounted her warhorse, her voice clear yet filled with a sense of oppression:
"Orion, give up."

"From this moment on, I will take over the throne."

With each step she took, it seemed to proclaim the collapse of the old order and the arrival of a new dynasty.

The night remained deep, and in the Royal Palace Square, the last glimmer of light belonging to Orion's destiny map was about to be extinguished.

Before the throne, Ian stood silently, the Wind Whisper Scepter in his hand slowly illuminating the last illusion he could summon.

【Wind Whisper Fantasy World: The Ruler of the Wind】

In an instant, a wind barrier rose from beneath his feet, like an endless transparent veil, enveloping the three-foot area around the throne.

The flowing runes whispered like ghosts, lightly constructing an invisible barrier to disrupt cognition.

This is neither a barrier that can be touched nor a spell that imprisons, but a mist that can only be deciphered by the wind—within the wind's whispered barrier, all cognition will fall into confusion.

Only the wind knows its shape, only the wind controls its true boundaries.

Orion collapsed onto the steps of the throne, his face covered in dust and blood, his voice hoarse and filled with pain:
"She wants to kill me... She wants to erase me from the history of the empire!"

The old palace guard, von Het, stood to one side, his expression weathered and sorrowful. He closed his weary eyes and sighed deeply.

"You still don't understand... she didn't need to erase you."

"All she does is keep you from ever reaching the 'end of the story'."

The main gate of the royal palace was slowly pushed open.

Medici finally stepped onto that final stage of destiny.

She wore a golden and red imperial robe, walked with composure, and was followed by the solemn and silent Divine Grace Knights.

There was not a trace of hesitation in her eyes, only a resolute determination as sharp as steel.

She stood before the family crest, gazing at the blurry figure within the Wind Whisper Barrier, her tone as cold as frost:
"The Imperial Guard has been defeated."

"Now is the time for the royal palace to tremble at the name of its new master."

Orion suddenly stood up, and with no way out, he unleashed a desperate, furious struggle like a wild beast, roaring as he crashed into the barrier he could not break through:

"You have not taken away the throne, but the last soul of the empire!"

"You have trampled on my father's glory and forced everyone to betray me—"

"You are not a princess! You are a witch who has blasphemed the soul of the empire!"

Medici stepped calmly to the wind barrier, her voice as cold as ice, yet sharp with sarcasm:
"You call it a soul?"

"When the empire was drained of its lifeblood by the church, when nobles fought endlessly, and when the people cried out in despair, did you ever protect that so-called 'soul'?"

"You dare not draw your sword, much less kneel down."

"This crown has never belonged to you."

The frequency of the whispers suddenly increased, the incantations in the entire hall trembled, and the oppressive atmosphere was like a heart on the verge of bursting.

At this moment, Rex stepped forward slowly. He wore the robes of a lieutenant of the Divine Grace Knights, held a gleaming silver ceremonial scepter, and respectfully bowed to Medusa:
"Your Highness, please allow me to wash your hands."

"In the name of the clergy, in the righteousness of judgment—to wipe away the sins that remain in the wind for you."

Medici gazed at him, remained silent for a long while, and then nodded.

Behind the wind barrier, Orion's pupils suddenly contracted as he stared at the familiar yet unfamiliar face before him, muttering blankly:
"You are... Raymond? Aren't you a priest?"

Rex bowed his head, his expression devout and gentle:
“I was once the one who proclaimed the holy water; now, I am the one who judges the holy light.”

He stepped into the Wind Whisper Barrier, and from beneath his right sleeve, a mysterious card of destiny quietly slid out and silently rested on his fingertip.

The entire royal palace fell into a suffocating silence.

The Wind Whisper Barrier is not a physical barrier, but a transparent cage that distorts perception and disrupts cognition.

The incantation is deconstructed within it, reason is refracted, and sound is distorted into whispers.

Only Ian, who possesses the privilege of whispering in the wind, can maintain a clear judgment here.

But now, someone has calmly stepped into the Wind Whisper Barrier under the guise of "washing hands".

Father Raymond, that gentle and humble young clergyman, never wielded a knife, nor did he advocate killing.

He is the blessing of newborn nobles and the comforter of dying warriors; he is the least likely to be suspected and the least likely to be guarded against.

He is Rex.

Holding the Wind Whisper Scepter, Ian gazed at Raymond as he stepped into the barrier, his eyes filled with a complex mix of confusion and sighs.
"You finally came."

Raymond chuckled softly, his expression remaining gentle:

"The wind is your companion, and it will also become your epitaph."

With each step he took forward, the agitation of the incantation winds intensified.

Ian gave a wry smile:
"You don't want to purify me, you just want to 'end' me, right?"

Raymond paused, then responded softly:

"I was just following orders."

"To complete this inevitable ending for someone more deserving of the throne than you."

In the next instant, the two of them simultaneously activated their secret techniques!

The wind runes suddenly tightened, condensing into countless sharp blades of energy that slashed towards Raymond. Meanwhile, the Mystic Card in Raymond's hand activated instantly:
【No. 331·The Two-Faced Gambler·Vayne's Chant】

Mysterious Entry 1: Delayed Fate - Attack results delayed by 1.5 seconds.

Mysterious Entry 2: Fate Projection – Creates an image of oneself to withstand one attack.

Raymond's figure blurred instantly as Ian's wind blade pierced through his illusion.

Meanwhile, the real Raymond had quietly circled behind Ian and swung his scepter down with a thud!

"boom!"

Ian felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder, and the Wind Whisper Scepter slipped from his hand and fell to the ground. He gritted his teeth, turned around, and unleashed a flurry of spells. A whirlwind of wind lashed Raymond's side, causing him to cough up blood instantly.

But Raymond did not stop. He lunged forward, his left hand like a blade, piercing Ian's left abdomen with pinpoint accuracy.

Within the Wind Whisper Barrier, reason and destiny burned wildly simultaneously, distorting the surrounding air as if trapped in a vortex of incantations.

To those outside, all they saw were two figures rapidly crossing paths within the wind barrier, blood gushing forth, and incantations shattering, but they could not clearly discern the outcome.

A full minute later, the Wind Whisper Barrier suddenly shattered!

The shockwave swept through the entire palace. Everyone stared wide-eyed as they saw Raymond kneeling on one knee, his arm covered in blood, yet clutching the Life Diagram Ring tightly.

Ian Balleta lay silently before the throne, his chest pierced through, his eyes vacant and unfocused, the wound in his throat torn open by the wind blades.

In the lingering echoes of the shattered wind, only his final whisper remained, both indistinct and clear:
"Lies... will eventually be buried by the truth."

In the inner hall of the royal palace, the wind-whispering barrier suddenly dissipated. Feng Hete's pupils contracted sharply, and he took a step forward, but ultimately remained silent.

Orion felt as if he had been struck by lightning, trembling uncontrollably as he stared blankly at his last barrier, which had turned into a cold corpse.

Raymond slowly raised his head, his gaze indifferent and calm, looking at Medici suspended high on the steps, and said in a low voice:

"Your Highness."

"Purification is complete."

Medici nodded slightly, a cold glint, like a falling star, flashing in her eyes.
With a gentle wave of her hand, the seven Divine Knights stepped forward in unison, their spears clashing, their incantations pressing down like a web of fate.

"For the crime of murdering the king's father, and for the crime of treason and usurpation."

"Orion Henrian—detain him immediately!"

Orion was pinned to the ground by the spear, struggling desperately, his cheek pressed against the cold marble floor, howling out desperate cries:
“You murdered a prince! The heir to the empire! I am the eldest son of Henrian VII! You have no right—”

Medici turned her head slightly, her voice as cold as the whisper of the coldest midnight:
"He can no longer protect you."

The royal palace fell silent again, and Orion's screams and wails were gradually silenced by the silencing spell.

His struggling figure was dragged away step by step from the throne steps, his once magnificent royal robes, which represented his "legitimate bloodline," now covered in mud and bloodstains.
Like a discarded doll in a farcical drama, it finally falls into the cold dust of the empire.

The old Prime Minister von Het stood to one side, his face as pale as paper, heavy and pained. He did not stop him, nor did he try to persuade him further.

He simply watched Orion's figure slowly disappear into the distance, his lips moved, but he ultimately did not utter a word.

Raymond knelt on one knee, blood gushing from the wound on his right arm, yet his expression was devout and solemn.
Holding the still-intact badge of divine grace, he loudly chanted a mantra that resembled a prayer:

"The sacrifice has been completed, and the sins have been absolved."

"The imperial power—can be recast."

Medusa took a step and finally stepped onto the stairs leading to the throne, each step feeling as if she were traversing the bloodline and the spine of the thousand-year-old empire.

She did not wear the royal robes for the ceremony, but instead wore the cleanest armor and a royal red cloak, clearly proclaiming her rightful inheritance of the throne with bloodline incantations.

She stood before the throne, her gaze calm and serene, and did not rush to sit down.

Instead, he raised the royal star seal left by Henrian VII, a symbol of imperial rule, and slowly chanted:

"Use the royal map as the seal, and the life pattern as the soul."

"In the name of the empire, based on the life trajectories of billions of people."

“I am Medici Henrian.”

"I step onto this seat not to worship the gods, but to stop the war among the heavens."

In an instant, the "Ring of Ten Thousand Maps" inscribed above the entire royal palace a hundred years ago during the founding of the kingdom shone brightly.
The twelve destiny diagrams rotated and floated, forming an imperial destiny array that surrounded the throne.

She slowly put on the ring, and the light of the star map broke through the dome. All the destiny map nodes bound to the empire's military, political, financial, and religious affairs trembled in sync, completing the "core command binding" in an instant.

At the same time, the central command centers of institutions throughout the empire received the same message:
The transfer of royal power is complete.

[The new queen's identity has been confirmed: Medusa]

The military's star map was also updated with incantations:
Military and political command has been transferred, and the legitimate holder of the throne has been certified.

[Imperial Destiny Map Completed Simultaneously]

The entire ceremony, devoid of music, prayers, and elaborate rituals, was more authentic and profound than any coronation.

This was not a coronation, but a complete takeover of the empire.

von Het stepped forward slowly, his aged body bowing deeply as he murmured:
"With the body of an old minister of the empire and with the weight of our lives, I pledge my loyalty to the new king."

Rex followed suit, kneeling on one knee, and solemnly recited the ancient church prayer:

"With the blade of faith as our judgment, we offer our loyalty to the one and only legitimate Lord of the Divine Plan."

Medici looked at the kneeling crowd before her, her expression calm and serene.

She slowly sat on the throne, her hand gently resting on the cold stone armrest that symbolized the foundation of the empire.

In that instant, Wang Tu was activated.

The entire network of destiny charts in the royal palace shone brightly, and runes surged forth like a tidal wave.

Medici gently closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, all around her was quiet.

Wang Tu, in the end, belonged to her.

Outside the hall, the light of divine judgment slowly faded, the phantom of the angel gradually disappeared, and the Knights of Divine Grace knelt in unison, shouting in unison:
"Long live the King—Meddes!"

At the moment of change of dynasty, the entire capital city seemed to be cut off from the very bones of history by an invisible blade.

Half of the city returned to order. The blood moon faded, the incantation died down, and within the imperial city, the Divine Grace Knights quelled the rebellion. The incantation fire in the royal palace gradually died down, leaving behind a brief peace like the morning mist.

The other half sank into an even deeper abyss—beneath the Mirror Lake of Reflection.

The whispers of the past have quietly revived, and from the cracked seal, the evil secret that was once suppressed underwater by the empire has emerged.

On the west side of the capital, the inner harbor is dimly lit.

The flagship of the Sixth Legion of the Empire, the "Greystone," slowly sailed in. On the bridge, Edel was half-armored, his cloak still bearing the lingering black smoke and dust of war.

A communications officer strode closer, holding a Dream Codex from the Royal Palace in his hand.

The officer hesitated before handing over the coded message, his voice low and cautious: "General...she has ascended the throne."

Edel silently accepted it, the cipher text trembling slightly between his fingertips. His gaze was as deep as the night, and after a long silence, he slowly spoke:

"She is not my queen."

"But in the end, she sat on that throne."

He turned to look at the distant royal palace, where the afterglow of the cursed fire still danced like stars in the darkness:

“I didn’t come back for her.”

"I did it for the Empire, for this land we can still call 'home'."

He put away the coded message and gave the order:
"Issue my order: all corps shall suspend operations and shall not engage in combat with the Royal Knights."

"Immediately send someone to the royal palace, in the name of the military, to request the new king to participate in government affairs."

On the other side, the aftermath of the war on Pota Street had not yet subsided. People on the street were struggling to move things from piles of corpses and ruins, while children in their night classes were silently repairing the star map monument that had been ravaged by the war.

Liseria, draped in a tattered and stained cloak, stood silently on the back of the Azure Lion, gazing at the embers and stars atop the distant royal city tower, remaining silent for a long time.

Selene approached with heavy steps, reporting in a suppressed voice, "She... has completed her succession."

A glint appeared in Liseria's eyes, and she whispered slowly:

"I have shed blood for this city, and I have wept for it."

“I do not want to hand it over to Medici, much less let it be lost in the depths of Mirror Lake.”

She gently raised her hand and stroked the leaping lion mark on the destiny chart, her eyes hardening with determination.
"Since no one else can protect it, then tonight, I will protect it."

Far from the imperial city, the Mirror Lake, a reflection of the city, slowly cracked open like a wound, with indescribable black shadows climbing upwards along the cracks.

The priests of the Haran tribe whispered around the Sasraze Monument, and eerie green incantations appeared in the darkness.

Arthur and Victoria stood before the reflection platform in the middle of the lake, their expressions calm and indifferent.

Victoria chuckled softly and said:
"It seems we ultimately missed this coronation ceremony."

Arthur smiled slightly and replied:
"It doesn't matter."

"The moment the old god steps out of the lake, the crown will naturally lose its meaning."

Their gazes fell upon the slowly opening black abyss.

The distorted and ferocious reflections in the lake gradually coalesced into countless restless faces, awaiting their final struggle and revival.

At this moment, inside the royal palace, Medusa sat quietly on the highest seat of the empire, calmly watching the star rings of destiny revolving around her.

She sensed that the various forces in the empire were slowly returning to their proper places—soldiers, nobles, commoners, and opponents.

But she also knew that they weren't doing it for her.

Medici gently closed her eyes, a faint smile playing on her lips, and murmured:

"So good."

"The royal map is now in my hands; now... all I need to do is hold it firmly."

She opened her eyes, turned to von Het standing to the side, and gave him an order:
"Issue a military order to summon Edel in my name."

“And Liseria.”

She paused for a moment, her gaze falling on the stars swirling in the sky, her voice solemn and calm:
“Tell them to come and discuss with me…the future fate of the empire.”

"Not everyone who ascends the throne has fought for it;

But if you want to safeguard the throne, you must be the first to awaken.

—Excerpt from the opening remarks of "Notes on Imperial Map Guarding: The Shattered Shadow Volume"

(End of this chapter)