Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 374 The Master of Fate, the God of Destiny Returns
"Fate is not without choices, but rather, every choice has already been written down."

—From *The Nameless Book: Chapter on Destiny*

Despair, like a spiderweb, enveloped the entire city, oppressive and persistent.

The grace of the Virgin Mary faded away quietly like the tide, the milky white holy light flowed and receded, leaving behind boundless darkness.

The body of the giant stag Sazeroth rose again, and the scattered mirrors slowly reassembled, like countless tiny stardust mirrors, pieced together by an unknown whisper to form that cold and twisted laughter.

Medici gazed at the deer god on the Mirror Lake, her scepter trembling slightly, and fine beads of sweat appearing on her forehead.

The pale moonlight illuminated her heavy face, seemingly reflecting countless possibilities and inevitable death etched on her face.

"Can't even the radiance of the Virgin Mary stop it?" Liseria whispered, her face as pale as a flower petal about to wither, her slender fingers gripping the reins tightly.

The lion growled restlessly, its front paws futilely scratching the ground, as if it sensed a deeper terror about to descend.

Edel stood silently with his sword, its blade already broken and cracked like the scars of fate covering its body.

His eyes were filled with deep weariness and pain, yet he still asked resolutely, "Do we really have to fight again?"

The crowd fell silent. They understood that this resistance might be futile, but the Trelian royal family could never escape their destiny.

At that very moment, a soft yet clear "click" sounded in everyone's ears.

Calvino's gaze suddenly froze, and he slowly lowered his head.

He stared at the hands of the pocket watch in his hand—that subtle and hidden mark, which stopped precisely at the line that fate had already ordained.

His eyes suddenly brightened, like a new moon awakening from an endless night. He murmured softly, "The time has come."

The whispering sprite on his fingertips shimmered with a pale silver light. In the next instant, Calvino, in a low and restrained tone, with barely concealed anticipation, whispered to the other side of fate:

"Lilia, is Siming awake?"

On the other end of the whispered conversation, the voice was clear and serene, carrying a calmness that seemed to have long since seen through the emptiness deep within fate:

"He woke up. The stars went dark, and he said he was ready to fight at any moment."

In an instant, all eyes converged like stars, falling on the distance—at the edge of the theater ruins, a phantom-like yet magnificent door was slowly emerging from the abyss of fate.
The faint light flowing with countless life patterns seemed to suggest endless possibilities intertwining and entangled behind it, awaiting their destined unfolding.

The door slowly opened, and a tall, aloof figure stepped out, his steps steady and calm.

Si Ming opened his eyes again.

His calm, star-like eyes swept over the ravaged battlefield, over the rampaging Stags of Sazeroth ravaging the capital, and over the warriors who were on the verge of despair yet still struggled and fought on.

It was as if the whole world held its breath at that moment, and the air of despair suddenly froze.
All sound in the world ceased abruptly, except for the whispered, understated words of the God of Fate that pierced the silence:

"I am back."

The words were like a deep crack, tearing open the slumbering storm within everyone's hearts.

Fate restarts, destiny lines intertwine once more, and the curtain of destiny is drawn back.

Medusa raised her scepter high, her solemn voice carrying the majesty of a judge of fate, and slowly said, "Welcome back, Lord of Fate."

Si Ming nodded slightly, responding calmly but with a hint of apology: "I'm sorry I'm late."

The sound was not loud, but it clearly pierced the battlefield, transcending the boundaries of reality and causality, and resonating endlessly in the depths of everyone's heart.

The next moment, Si Ming slowly raised his left hand, and the void rippled and spread from his fingertips.

A cool, clear light gathered in his palm and quickly condensed into a pure white mask.

The mask was devoid of facial features, only a dense array of intricate and distorted characters representing fate intertwined and swirling, as if telling a tragic tale of countless possibilities being mercilessly crushed.

Then, a second mask emerged from the void, followed by a third, a fourth… countless masks of destiny appeared one after another like stars.
In an instant, the number reached a thousand, and they spun rapidly around the God of Fate, forming a magnificent curtain of destiny that completely enveloped him.

At this moment, Si Ming raised his right hand, and a golden pen of destiny instantly appeared in his palm, its tip flowing with mysterious and profound life patterns.

That was no ordinary object that could be wielded by mortals, but a truly supreme authority, an absolute sacred object capable of writing, correcting, and even completely rewriting the main thread of destiny.

A calm yet chilling smile appeared on Si Ming's lips as he murmured indifferently, "Fate has always been written only by my pen."

His voice was not loud, yet it resonated throughout the heavens like the will of destiny itself.
It was as if he had casually plucked the strings of the fate of billions of people, playing a grand yet desolate song of revelation.

In an instant, Si Ming's figure seemed to have completely detached from reality and time. The curtain of fate, intertwined with reality and illusion, seemed to gather all the sighs and cries of millions of beings onto him alone.

He was no longer the god of fate, but had become fate itself, standing proudly at the center of the destruction of the stars, becoming the sole judge.

Arthurivirian, atop the giant stag, stared blankly at Siming, the cold, eerie smile on her face quickly freezing and solidifying.

His pupils contracted sharply, and his giant stag body trembled involuntarily as an irresistible, instinctive fear rose from the depths of his soul.

Arthur Victoria murmured in a trembling voice, "Impossible... How could you become the true master of fate? You were just an insignificant little editor..."

The God of Destiny's gaze was indifferent and distant, as if looking down upon the tiny and fleeting lives of stars.

His voice was calm to the point of cruelty, yet it carried an endless, vast pressure and a philosophical resonance:

“You’re wrong. I’ve never been insignificant, because from the very beginning, I have been the sole master of the stage.”

As soon as the words fell, it was as if the entire space-time congealed, and the trajectories of the stars instantly became disordered and collapsed.
Even the once ferocious and arrogant Stag of Sazeroth froze in mid-air, its once proud and sinister eyes now...
Finally, an intense and undisguised sense of fear and bewilderment surfaced.

Sazaras felt an unprecedented sense of oppression, as if his very existence had been completely stripped away by some irresistible force in an instant.

His enormous body trembled, an uncontrollable shudder rising beneath his muscles.
Like a wild beast's helpless cry before its predator, a sense of humiliation and despair wells up within, a feeling of being dominated by a higher being.

That is the innate submission and fear that a lower-ranking supreme mystery card feels when facing a higher-ranking supreme ruler. It cannot resist, cannot escape, and can only tremble as it awaits the final judgment.

Si Ming slightly raised his head, his gaze distant and profound, clearly reflecting the scene of billions of stars silently collapsing in his eyes. His low and cold whisper seemed to resound throughout billions of worlds:

"From this moment on, fate has been rewritten, and you are nothing more than the most insignificant annotation in the line I wrote."

Sazaras finally bowed his proud head completely under that vast power of fate.

His eyes were filled with fear and despair, as if fate had never been so real and cruel.

The God of Fate lightly raised his pen, and dark, twisted ink flowed from its tip, spreading slowly in the void like tentacles of an abyss, weaving into unrecognizable runes and incantations.

Every trace of its trajectory exudes a chilling rhythm, like the gaze of the Whisperer's eye, slowly tearing apart the space before us.

A false corridor suddenly appeared.

The rift was not a fracture of ordinary space, but rather like a forbidden book that had long been broken, its pages exuding a decaying, lingering fragrance.
The bizarre characters writhe on the pages, devouring the order and rationality of reality, gradually merging everything into a shadowy mix of madness and delusion.

The God of Fate's eyes were as cold and deep as stars, and his deep voice echoed between the void and the lines of fate:
"Past failures are not a disgrace, but a necessary stake in the gamble of fate."

He slightly raised his wrist, and the trajectory of the power pen became increasingly chaotic. The dark threads of fate rapidly spread and intertwined, weaving a magnificent and mysterious Gate of Destiny.

The dark door was as deep as a black hole that swallowed stars, its surface covered with countless distorted and silent screaming faces, as if countless broken destinies were hidden behind it, yearning for a breath of fresh air to return to reality.

Accompanied by indescribable whispers, the door slowly opened, and three distinct yet equally unsettling figures stepped from nothingness into reality.

First is the eternal witness, Tang Kejian, whose body is surrounded by a spacetime distortion field so dense it's suffocating, as if he were at the intersection of the past and the future.

His gaze was as bottomless as an abyss, and he said in a low voice:
"The tones of the bell toll for you."

The Realm of Eternal Judgment suddenly unfolded, freezing the entire battlefield in an instant, and the ancient and distant chimes resounded throughout the heavens and earth.

Even the towering Sazarras, at this moment, seemed like prey trapped in amber, pinned to the spot by the gravity of time, unable to break free.

Following closely behind, Minako Mijinin appeared, stepping on a trail of bewitching white flames. The enormous and eerie body of Tamamo-no-Mae slowly bloomed behind her, its nine tails flowing like silver moonlight, beautiful yet ruthless. In her palm lay the fate-related cursed artifact, [Amaterasu's Wheel of Destiny], her voice alluring yet chilling to the bone:
"Lord of Fate, let us settle this old score."

As the words fell, the Wheel of Fate slowly spun, emitting a chilling white flame of destiny that banished all distorted reflections like those in a mirror, enveloping the Fate Master as solid as a fortress.

The last figure, accompanied by a deafening roar, forcefully stepped out from through the door.

Arms maniac von Brandt pilots the monstrous, menacing mech "Doomsday Hunter," flames erupting from its cannons, a vanguard of vengeance and judgment, a blend of mechanical and brutal beauty:

"Finally, the time has come again to hunt down gods!"

The cannons on the massive machine suddenly activated, and a barrage of scorching bullets tore through the void, instantly bombarding the frozen Sazarras hundreds of times.
Fragments and stars intertwined and burst apart, and endless flames rose like a blood moon, dazzling yet despairing.

At this moment, Si Ming, Tang Kejian, Minako, and Feng Brandt, sworn enemies, join hands and stand side by side to embark on a god-hunting ritual with World-type cards as the stakes.

The battlefield has been completely restarted at this moment!

Within Tang Kejian's Realm of Eternal Judgment, all actions were bound by time. Sazarras's struggles were like a giant beast bound by a kite string, slow and powerless.

Si Ming stepped forward, his brush tip radiating dazzling starlight of destiny. Each rune, like a fragment of a star map, shimmered with breathtaking rhythms of fate.

With a casual stroke, his handwriting tore through reality like a sharp blade, slicing open a deep abyss-like rift in the massive body of the giant stag, Sazeroth.

The crack was deep and magnificent, like a starry mountain range cleaved by a sword from the heavens, from which countless strange yet dazzling fragments of stardust spewed forth.

It's as if the stars are undergoing a magnificent cycle of birth, death, and rebirth within it.

At this moment, Minako Mijinin also activated the [Amaterasu Life Wheel], and Tamamo-no-Mae's beauty was displayed in the dazzling moonlight, revealing an ultimate bewitching allure.

Nine silver fox tails bloomed into a storm of vast, untamed blades of fate, densely packed and raining down on the body composed of the mirrors of Sazarras.

With each cut from the blade of fate, a dazzling light of shattered stars erupted, and the roar of the Deer God gradually grew weaker and more desperate.

Von Brandt's [Doomsday Hunter] mechanical giant arms simultaneously opened, and the muzzle flashes on the shoulder armor and chest armor were as brilliant as the sun bursting forth.

Countless scorching shells intertwined to form a spear of judgment, piercing through the body of Sazarras.

The torrent of explosions intertwined with the blade of fate, and the Deer God's body was constantly broken and reconstructed, yet each time it grew weaker and more desperate.

Edel and Medici stopped in their tracks, their eyes filled with undisguised awe and reverence.

Medici whispered softly, her voice tinged with a complex understanding of fate: "This... is the Lord of Fate."

A faint smile appeared on Si Ming's lips, and the power pen in his palm shimmered with starlight.

He gazed at the crumbling Stag Stag Shazeroth, his voice calm yet imbued with boundless power and philosophical depth:
"Gods and mortals are merely characters of destiny. Under my pen, they all become chess pieces."

He picked up his pen again, this time with a more magnificent and resolute trajectory, the entire reality revolving and reconstructing under his pen like a star map.
Countless runes of fate rained down from the void, bombarding the deer god's mangled body with a frenzy. Space violently collapsed and reformed, and Sazeroth was finally locked firmly in the prison of fate.

At this moment, Si Ming truly embodied the ultimate meaning of "the master of destiny".

He stood in the center of the battlefield, as if standing upon destiny itself, while the Deer God was left only with futile and endless struggles and lamentations.

From this moment on, fate is completely controlled by the God of Destiny.

Arthurivirian roared in fury, her voice like stars falling from the sky, echoing across the shattered and desolate battlefield:

"Fate is in control? How absurd! We serve the Supreme God!"

Upon hearing this, Si Ming merely smiled slightly, his gaze as calm as the flowing night, and slowly shook his head:

"God is nothing but a symbol in the book of destiny; the supreme is always your self-deceiving delusion."

Before he finished speaking, the power pen had already moved gently in his palm, and ink-black life lines quietly emerged from the void. Each line connected the past and the future, weaving together the end of countless possibilities.

The God of Destiny's gaze was like that of a judge hanging high above the star chart of fate, cold and majestic as he looked down upon his opponent:

"What you are playing with are nothing but reflections and human hearts, while what I am writing is reality itself."

In an instant, the countless mirrors on the body of the Stag King of Sazeroth shattered simultaneously, and the reflected stars scattered like broken glass.
The vast galaxy collapsed and fell into the distorted mirror, and the Deer God's enormous body was irreversibly heading towards collapse and destruction.

The God of Fate strode calmly across the crumbling battlefield, his gaze like that of a god surveying all living beings, proclaiming with a serene yet merciless stillness:

"In my writing, there are no miracles or coincidences, only lies that I permit are true."

Arthurivirian let out an increasingly desperate roar, her voice distorted and sharp as a nightmare.

The deer god's near-destruction body trembled violently, and countless faces struggling in pain appeared in the mirror, as if Sazeroth was still trying to draw power from the people in the mirror to regenerate.

Si Ming coldly observed the futile struggle and said indifferently:
"Struggle is nothing but a deeper despair."

As the brush of authority brought down its final stroke, the ink mark, like a divine judgment, pierced sharply into the core of the Deer God, reaching the very foundation of his soul.

The gates of destiny burst open with a deafening roar, and a storm of illusions, formed from countless failures and shattered destinies, engulfed Sazarra.

The deer god's mournful cry was shrill and desolate; its body shattered in the storm, scattering into stardust that drifted down to earth.

Arthur Vittorian roared and struggled in desperate madness, but could not break free from the prison of the life runes.

The Fate Master gently raised his hand, and the illusory corridor expanded layer upon layer, completely isolating Sazarras and severing its connection with Mirror Lake.

At the same time, Tang Kejian's realm of constant judgment expanded silently, and time froze in a subtle instant.

Arthurivirian screamed in terror:
"No, this is impossible! How could our Lord's power be so easily imprisoned?"

The Fate Master coldly observed the other's despair and pain, his eyes devoid of any emotion, his voice as dark as the eyes of a whisperer:

"I have already rewritten the rules of the mirror world."

The massive body of Sazeroth is rapidly shattering and dissipating, its power draining away, yet it can never be revived by the power of the Mirror Lake.

The God of Fate calmly and mercilessly declared:

"The Supreme Being you serve has always been a prisoner in the cage of fate."

Arthurivirian's consciousness grew increasingly frenzied and distorted, as she screamed with resentment:
"Why... when my lord is clearly supreme!"

The God of Destiny slowly looked down at the other's contorted, painful posture, his deep voice like the final judgment of fate, carrying a divine majesty and coldness:
"Because you still do not understand that the Supreme One has never been God, but I who write the destiny of the gods."

Sazarras's body was repeatedly torn apart by the power of fate, his shards fell off and scattered like meteors, his star map shattered and collapsed in darkness.

However, even though Sazarath was suppressed to the brink of despair, as long as the Mirror Lake remained intact, it could still devour the reflections of countless beings in Aleston and gather new life once again.

Siming gazed at the deer god struggling on the verge of death before him, his brows furrowing slightly, and a hint of gloom creeping into his voice:
"Mirror Lake still exists; the final page of its destiny has not yet been written..."

Beneath the thick fog, Alleston remained shrouded in the shadow of Mirror Lake.

In the heavens, that unsettling mirror image continues to greedily devour countless reflected souls, accumulating power for the Deer God's next rebirth.

Siming raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through Mirror Lake, the starry sky, and even the world itself. He stared at the distant, hazy shore and spoke slowly but resolutely:

"This gamble is far from over."

The kite string of fate has not yet been cut, the stars still drift, and Si Ming knows that at the bottom of the abyss where the blood moon hangs high and the person in the mirror whispers, there is an even more perilous destiny waiting for him to write.

"When fate strikes with its final stroke, all resistance will be in vain, and all gods will eventually yield."

—From *The Nameless Book*, Final Chapter: The Judgment of Fate

(End of this chapter)