Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 396 The Unknown Trump Card

Fate never favors predetermined victories and defeats.

The unknown is the only trump card to transcend fate.

When you're playing a game of chess with fate, don't forget to leave behind a card that even you can't see.
Because of a true miracle,
They always emerge from the future you cannot see.

—Notes from the Dream Weaver of Destiny: The Unknown Chapter

In the starry corridor, a deathly silence spreads like an eternal finale.

The once dazzling and magnificent Star Realm has now been reduced to a desolate, post-apocalyptic ruin, with star fragments scattered everywhere.
Like countless dying snakes, they crawled slowly across the dim ground, futilely emitting a faint glow.

Smoke and stardust mingled and intertwined, creating a somber and desolate atmosphere, as if foreshadowing the imminent end of a game of fate. The air was filled with the oppressive and heavy feeling unique to the prelude to a final curtain call.

On the battlefield at this moment, only the Fate Master and the Star Speaker remained, facing each other from afar.

The once invincible Reflection King, Sazeroth, has long since shattered into countless fragments, the broken stag's head fallen into the distance.

His empty eyes held an unyielding anger and struggle.

The eight-tailed fox spirit that Tamamo-no-Mae had transformed into was also lying weakly at Siming's feet, its blood-stained, charred fur in a pitiful state, emitting a faint mournful cry.

The Twin Princesses were the first to suffer the most devastating stellar bombardment for Si Ming, and were completely annihilated in the blood-red blooming vines, becoming a silent sacrifice.

Si Ming was breathing heavily, weakly but stubbornly propping himself up.

Beside him, the black and colorful clowns, embodied in the gambler's lament, stood solemnly on either side.
Like a loyal guard, or a silent grim reaper, its scythe reflects a cold and sharp glint.

The Star Speaker was also extremely weak. His body trembled slightly as he barely raised his arm, pointing towards the God of Fate. His hoarse voice was filled with sarcasm and anger:
"Have you... run out of tricks?"

Si Ming chuckled softly, slowly raising his head, his eyes revealing a hint of mockery and confident composure:

"That's right, I've really played all my cards."

He paused for a moment, a slight smile playing on his lips, revealing a meaningful expression:

"However, I won too."

The Star Speaker was startled, then realized that a ferocious and eerie figure had quietly emerged from the dark shadows behind him.

Leo's deep eyes flashed with a cold, eerie light, and his grotesque mechanical spider body silently unfurled its menacing claws.

With lightning speed, they firmly imprisoned the Star Speaker within.

The Star Speaker's expression changed drastically; he struggled frantically, but was utterly unable to break free.

"Impossible... He's not in the future I see... When did Leo appear?!"

Si Ming silently observed the Star Speaker's panicked expression, a slight smile playing on his lips, and calmly said:
"Of course you can't foresee his appearance, because I've never woven a future for him that you can see."

The God of Fate, with his deep gaze and unhurried, yet tinged with a hint of leisurely sarcasm, continued:
"Your abilities are incredibly powerful, allowing you to see through the destiny I set for all creations, just like a director who controls the script."

Unfortunately, this time I deliberately kept a trump card that even I hadn't planned to use.

The Star Speaker roared furiously and madly, but Leo did not hesitate for a moment. Countless mysterious, dark blue threads surged from his mouth like a tide.

The Star Speakers were quickly woven into an airtight cocoon, completely imprisoning them in the center of the theater of fate.

Si Ming took a deep breath, no longer hesitating, raised his arm high, and activated the final mysterious term of the Gambler's Lament of Destiny - [Double Aces].

The two clowns, one black and one colorful, bowed respectfully to the God of Fate, like fervent yet elegant butlers.

His expression suddenly turned cold and murderous. He raised his scythe and pounced on the Star Speaker like an elegant dancer.

The Black Ace wielded his scythe first, unleashing endless, mysterious toxins and insane illusions that spread rapidly, like a dark nebula eroding the Star Speaker's sanity and body.

The Star Speaker struggled and screamed, his consciousness rapidly disintegrating and collapsing under the combined assault of toxins and hallucinations.

The colorful ace that followed unleashed deadly, dazzling flames and icy blades.

Flames bloomed like dazzling stars in the sky, each ray of light carrying a merciless mockery of fate, precisely and elegantly tearing apart the Star Speaker's body and soul.

The scythe swung mercilessly, each strike like a judgment of fate, severing the Star Speaker's lifeline and struggle.

At this moment, the entire space seemed to hold its breath, intently watching this magnificent end of life.

Finally, at the very moment when the final, dazzling flames of the colored ace and the chilling blade of the black ace fell simultaneously...
The Star Speaker's massive body instantly disintegrated into countless star fragments, blossoming into a poignant and tragic meteor shower that fell before the Fate Master.

Si Ming silently watched as the last rays of the Star Speaker's life dissipated into the void, leaving behind a dazzling fragment of destiny.

It slowly emerged from the scattered fragments of stars, carrying the Star Speaker's last unwilling whisper, and slowly merged into the Thousand-Faced Mysterious Card in the Master of Fate's hand.

Si Ming let out a long breath, a faint smile appearing on his tired face.

"I've won another big gamble."

The gamble of fate has once again temporarily ended in his victory. However, Si Ming clearly understands in his heart that this victory is only the prelude to a more treacherous game of destiny.

Deep within those distant and dark stars, an even greater and more profound threat, beyond his imagination, still lurks, awaiting its next arrival and judgment.

While the God of Fate was battling fate in the inner chambers, thousands of miles away in Alleston, he was quietly enjoying a brief and fragile peace.

A thin mist, like a gentle veil, enveloped the gradually awakening city. Cars streamed along the streets, their noise mingling with the somber smell of coal smoke from steam engines.
In the early morning, newsboys wave freshly printed newspapers, loudly announcing the latest news in clear and excited voices.

Passersby hurried by, their steps piercing the fragmented dawn light. Everything seemed no different from any other day, prosperous yet ordinary.

At the corner of Pota Street, a gentleman dressed as a priest in black is staring at the dirty ditch at his feet.

He frowned slightly, his silver cane tapping lightly on the ground, while his other hand habitually pushed up his monocle over his right eye.
As if gazing at his own blurry reflection in the sewage, he murmured to himself with a low sigh:

"As expected, waiting for a late brat is never a pleasant thing."

As soon as Father Rex finished speaking, a young and hurried figure rushed over, covered in morning dew and dust.

He quickly stopped in front of the priest, head bowed, fine beads of sweat clearly visible on his forehead, and gave a smile that was both apologetic and lively:
“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to be late… It’s Elfna, she asked me to buy something for her on my way, so…”

The young man who arrived was Alanhwin, the Pota Street boy who had grown rapidly during the baptism of war.

Although his physique and temperament have changed drastically, his innate recklessness and straightforwardness have not been completely worn away by time.

Rex gently shook his head, a faint smile appearing on his gentle face. He reached out and handed over a thick textbook, his tone calm yet warm:
“Young man, of course I know. Alright, Alan, these books were specially left by Si Ming. He once solemnly instructed me that you must not neglect your studies for any reason.” Alan grinned brightly, nodded his thanks, quickly took the textbooks, and turned to leave briskly.

Their figures quickly separated, like countless ordinary encounters and partings in the city, as if they had never left a trace on the chessboard of fate.

Meanwhile, on the edge of this bustling city, in the ancient and majestic Lion Castle, another silent dialogue is unfolding.

The young Princess Lyseria of the Trelian royal family sat quietly deep within the garden.

Slender, white fingers gently turned the pages of a thick book, softly humming a gentle, melancholic tune, her expression focused and serene.

She was reading the lecture notes she had carefully prepared for tonight's evening class, so focused that she forgot about the delicate pastries and rich black tea beside her.

Light footsteps echoed along the garden's cobblestone path as the maid Marlene slowly approached the table.

His gaze fell on the pastry that had been eaten only halfway and then set aside. His brows furrowed slightly, and his tone carried an undisguised worry and dissatisfaction:

"Your Highness, you've been eating less and less lately. No matter how focused you are on preparing for your night classes, you can't neglect your health."

Liseria slowly raised her head as if waking from a dream, smiling apologetically, her tone gentle and tender:
"Sorry, Marlene, I lose track of time when I'm reading. I'll definitely finish eating soon. Could you please make me another pot of black tea?"

Marlene shook her head with a sigh, but hesitated for a moment before turning away, finally asking in a low voice:
"Your Highness, tonight... will you continue to have the children come to the castle for evening lessons?"

Liseria nodded without hesitation, her voice still gentle but with a hint of unwavering determination:

"Of course, is there a problem?"

A deep worry and hesitation surfaced in Marlene's eyes. She lowered her voice and carefully reminded her:

"However, regarding the Queen... there seem to be more and more church personnel loitering near the castle lately."

Liseria lowered her gaze slightly, remained silent for a moment, then looked up again with a calm smile, though a dark emotion, as deep as the bottom of a dark pool, was faintly revealed in that smile:
“I know. My sister has never liked me doing these things. But if I hadn’t done it myself, the inevitable fire would have burned the entire throne to ashes sooner or later.”

Marlene was taken aback, staring in astonishment at the young princess before her.

Since that great battle, she vaguely sensed that Liseria had undergone some kind of subtle transformation—in her expression and words,
Gone is the innocent naivety of the past; instead, a hidden and obscure calmness and insight have emerged.
Like stars twinkling in the distant night sky, bright yet elusive, as if concealing some kind of danger and power she could not comprehend.

However, Marlene simply lowered her head and nodded silently, without saying another word, before turning and slowly walking away.

The garden quieted down again, but Marlene's doubts did not subside. Instead, they lingered in her heart like a faint but persistent shadow.

Liseria lowered her gaze again and continued turning the heavy pages of the book, as if nothing had happened.

Only the barely perceptible tremor of her fingertips revealed a hint of coldness and determination that even she herself had not noticed.

Beneath the surface of peace in Alleston, dangerous and mysterious undercurrents surge like the silent depths of the sea.
With an indescribable sense of oppression and unease, we slowly approach an unpredictable future.

Alleston, Royal Palace.

The once magnificent royal palace has lost its former glory, and now stands a grand and solemn statue of Our Lady of Fertility.

The statue's body, entirely adorned with the magnificent colors of ivory and gilded metal, gazes down upon the entire hall, its eyes filled with compassion yet also cold indifference.
It was as if she were a deity silently declaring that all authority in the mortal world must submit to her.

Before the sacred image stood a cold yet magnificent throne, upon which sat a beautiful woman with long, silver-white hair.

Her face was as beautiful and alluring as a newly blooming rose, yet her brows exuded a chilling and aloof aura that inspired fear.

Only his head of pure white hair, as white as fresh snow, starkly reminded the world:

Her once vibrant life force has long been taken away; now she is nothing more than a shell maintained by the will of the Virgin Mary to preserve her youth and beauty.

Medusa, the current queen of Areston, is the woman who perished in a fierce battle against the Reflection King, Sazarras.

She relied on the mysterious card of the Supreme Mother of Life to forcibly retain her youthful appearance, but the lost source of life flowed away like a river into a bottomless abyss.
She could never get it back; her head full of white hair was the eternal mark of her life.

At this moment, Medici coldly looked down at the enormous model of the royal capital in the center of the hall.
Her slender, pale fingers gently traced the countless tiny sculptures symbolizing her subjects, her eyes filled with cold, disdainful intent, as she spoke softly yet cruelly:
"They thought that I was satisfied with having seized the earthly throne."

The corners of her lips curled up slightly, forming a dangerous and mocking arc:

"How foolish and short-sighted... They naively believe that mere mundane power is enough to satisfy my desires and bring me joy and satisfaction?"

Medici's fingers slowly traced the spire atop the palace model, her expression growing even more profound.
It felt like touching upon a distant, unreachable place, like a faraway dream:

"They will never understand what I truly desire. They have never set foot in the world above the stars, nor have they ever tasted the sweet flavor woven from blood and destiny."

Her whispers gradually grew more fervent, her tone revealing an undisguised intoxication and madness.

It's as if I'm having a conversation with another, darker yet more real version of myself deep within my soul:
"What is a mere mortal queen worth mentioning? Only by transcending the boundaries of mortals and becoming a true god can I find my final destination and destiny!"

Her voice was soft yet firm, echoing in the empty, cold hall, like an invisible tide slowly eroding the foundation and order of the entire kingdom.

With a casual wave of his hand, the four red-robed priests kneeling below the throne immediately bowed deeply and chanted in unison with piety and fervor:
"May the name of our Lord, who begot the Holy Mother, live forever."

Their voices were like eerie whispers, carrying an almost cult-like devotion.

The echoes beneath the vast dome seem to foreshadow some unspeakable shadow, quietly enveloping the entire city.

Medici slowly leaned back onto her throne, her beautiful yet icy face growing even more haughty and cold.
The vibrant red of her lips resembled a blood-red lotus blooming at midnight, and a burning, undisguised desire and madness raged deep within her eyes.

"Soon, this city, this kingdom, and even this whole world will become the most glorious footnote to my ascension to the throne."

Her voice, like a dream, was gradually swallowed up by the empty hall.

Only that cold and sharp gaze seemed to pierce through the barriers of space and time, pointing directly to the ultimate peak of destiny.

At this moment, Alleston was still immersed in a false peace and tranquility, completely unaware of what was happening.

A larger, more mysterious, and irresistible shadow has already silently and thoroughly enveloped the entire city in its cold embrace.

"Calmness is always the most deceptive disguise before a storm."
Those destinies you thought you had in your hands,
They will always push you into the abyss when you are most complacent.

Only by always maintaining awe for the unknown can we...
Only then could they possibly succeed in this crazy game.

To the very end.

—Notes from the Dream Weaver of Destiny: The Unknown Chapter

(End of this chapter)