Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 405 Forbidden Trial
Humans have always been in awe of the indescribable.
When power wields fear in the name of God,

Humanity then willingly offers up its soul, seeking only illusory peace.

"The true heresy in the world is not a certain kind of knowledge."

Rather, it makes humanity realize that freedom itself is a lie.

—Excerpt from "The City of Tragedy: The Forbidden Chapter"

The news that Liseria was imprisoned in the Tower of Saint Chastity spread like a dark plague throughout Aleston, shrouding the entire city in a somber and mysterious atmosphere.

With this, Queen Medusa had finally removed her last obstacle.
That iron-fisted rule, now unhindered, had plunged into the deepest depths of madness and darkness.

As soon as the first rays of dawn broke free from the clouds, the church bells began to toll urgently.

This time, the sound was cold and piercing, like the whispers of the dead from the depths of their graves, foreshadowing an even more terrifying disaster.

People on the streets stopped what they were doing and stood there anxiously watching.

Soon, cardinals in solemn robes, accompanied by knights, swiftly occupied the streets, posting the new edicts on every church, every doorway, and every city wall:
"In the name of the Holy Mother, Her Majesty Queen Medici hereby decrees:"

Anyone who discusses esoteric knowledge, fate chart theory, or astrological prophecies is a sinner who blasphemes against the Holy Mother.

Those who possess, teach, learn, or disseminate the aforementioned taboos will all be subject to the judgment of the Virgin Mary, and their sins will be unforgivable.

His words were harsh as blades, piercing the hearts of the residents and causing a suppressed commotion and terrified whispers.

Before people could recover from the aftermath of the Liseria incident, they faced an even more brutal and direct threat.

However, this was only the beginning of Medici's plan.

As dusk fell that day, secret police officers in dark uniforms scattered like ghosts throughout the city, their steps light yet deadly.
Without any procedures or explanations, they can arbitrarily search every household.

As night fell, the door of a small house on the seventh block was suddenly kicked open. The young woman, terrified, clutched the baby in her arms and retreated to a corner.

The cardinal's retinue poured in expressionlessly, silently brandishing their iron staffs, causing books and papers to flutter to the ground like fallen leaves.

The bishop's retinue coldly and mercilessly pronounced the verdict:
“In the name of the Holy Mother, you are suspected of heresy.”

"No! We didn't do anything!" The woman cried out, clutching her child tightly, her voice piercing and desperate, but no one responded.

The guards coldly examined every book and piece of paper until a tattered calendar was pulled out, its faint but deadly handwriting revealing its intricate details:

"When the moon is stained with blood, the lines of destiny will guide us."

That one sentence alone was enough to drag the whole family into hell.

The bishop's attendant immediately raised his head, his eyes sharp as knives: "They are hiding forbidden items. Take them away!"

The woman's piercing cries, accompanied by the child's sharp wails, were dragged into the depths of the night.

The neighbors peeked nervously from behind the doors and windows, their eyes filled with fear and bewilderment, as if it would be their turn to suffer the same fate at any moment.

Meanwhile, the once-prosperous Door Mirror Academy fell into a deathly silence.

The cardinals personally led away those once-respected professors.

The college square was turned into a wasteland in just a few hours. The fear in the air seemed to have a tangible quality, and even the sky was darker than usual, making it suffocating.

Night had completely enveloped Alleston, and the sounds of prayer from the church mingled with the stern admonitions of the cardinal, echoing through every street and alley.
"Truth is given only by the Holy Mother; those who transgress will fall into endless hell and never be redeemed."

Medici's iron fist is ruthlessly plunging the city into unprecedented darkness and oppression.

However, this despair that engulfs the entire city is exactly the scene that Liseria, the prisoner of the Tower of Saint Chastity, has always longed for.

Atop the tower, the princess who had once been scorned by the queen stood quietly at the window.

Her gaze, cold and unfathomable, swept over the city as it gradually sank into fear and sorrow. A slight, enigmatic smile played on her lips.

The shadow of the Tower of Chastity has spread far and wide, enveloping the entire city of Areston, and fear creeps silently into people's hearts like dark tentacles.

On a late autumn night, a huge judgment platform was quietly erected in the center of the square, like a thirsty abyss, waiting for the arrival of sacrifices.

The crowd gathered at the edge of the square had their heads down, their faces pale and numb, their eyes darting around in despair, as if afraid of being seen as accomplices.

Cardinal Casal stood high on the platform, his gaze disdainful and cold. He unfurled the scroll and, in a solemn and stern voice, announced the crimes:

“Eileen Haft, you have hoarded forbidden knowledge and spoken recklessly about horoscopes and celestial calamities. Your sins are blatant. The Holy Mother will bestow upon you the flames of purification.”

The young woman's pale face showed terror and helplessness. She shook her head and screamed desperately, but could not get a single bit of pity in return.

"No! I was just... just curious..."

Casal responded coldly:

"Curiosity is a sin, and taboo is death."

Without hesitation, the soldiers tied her to black iron stakes, and flames instantly engulfed her cries.

The firelight illuminated every pale and indifferent face in the square, and no one dared to utter a sound, as if the flames had completely burned away their courage.

Casal surveyed the crowd with satisfaction, then solemnly and cruelly announced:

"Mystery is the source of evil, and all seekers must be purified with fire."

The square fell silent; fear had seeped into their very bones, and no one dared to speak or question.

Liseria, atop a distant tower, witnessed it all. Her face was shrouded in darkness, but a cold smile played on her lips, filled with twisted pleasure and mockery.

"Sister, how wonderful the fear you create is! The sorrow and regret nurtured in those oppressed souls are the sacrifices I crave."

Atop the tower, shadows had already spread and taken shape, silently entangling every corner of the city like tentacles.
It devoured all remaining light and hope, dragging Alleston into an endless abyss of tragedy.

Under the shadow of the burning at the stake, Alleston had completely fallen into an abyss of endless fear and despair.

The city was eerily silent. During the day, the streets were deserted, and the pedestrians who did pass by looked anxious and fearful.

As night falls, doors and windows are locked early in the streets and alleys, and the faint candlelight shining from the houses is filled with a ghostly oppression and silence.

The bells of the Starry Church rang out at this moment, their heavy and slow rhythm seemingly proclaiming with each chime that the city was gradually sliding into an even darker abyss.

Meanwhile, in the secret interrogation room beneath the church, another, more clandestine and cruel trial was quietly unfolding.

In the dark and cramped room, the only light source was a dim oil lamp hanging on the wall.

The dim light illuminated the torture instruments in the corner, and the mottled bloodstains on the wall seemed to twist and turn in the flickering firelight, like eerie faces whispering in silence.

In the darkness, faint, painful and desperate groans could be heard, accompanied by weak and feeble prayers:

"Please... spare me... I really don't know anything..."

Bishop Casal walked slowly to the man who was nearly unconscious from the torture, staring at him expressionlessly, his voice cold and calm:
“Mr. Bering, I understand your pain. But you must understand that only honesty can earn the Virgin Mary’s forgiveness.”

Bering's body was covered in wounds and bloodstains. He struggled to lift his head, his eyes unfocused and filled with grief.
"I...I just borrowed a book...it's just an ordinary book!"

Bishop Casal chuckled coldly, slowly crouched down, and whispered in Belin's ear:

"An ordinary book? Then why did we find notes with life patterns mixed in with your book? Do you think we're so foolish as to be unable to distinguish lies?"

Bering's eyes suddenly widened in terror, and he shook his head frantically, pleading in a trembling voice:

"No! Please... I was just curious, I just wanted to know... I really didn't mean any harm!"

A hint of cold pity flickered across Bishop Casal's face:
"Curiosity is the greatest malice. Do you understand? It is this curiosity that pushes countless people into the abyss."

He slowly stood up and coldly waved to the church guards behind him:

“Continue until he fully confesses.”

Berlin's pitiful howls echoed through the room, the torture beginning anew, reverberating between the cold walls.

Casal turned around calmly, gazing at the distorted and shifting shadows on the wall, a strange fascination flickering in his eyes:

“The purification of the Virgin Mary is the only way. Suffering will liberate them from evil curiosity and desire.”

Meanwhile, inside the Tower of Sacred Chastity, Liseria sat alone on a stone couch, her eyes closed.

A satisfied smile appeared on his face, as if he were listening to the faint cries and groans coming from afar.

"Ah, what a beautiful sound... Pain and despair, this is the truest symphony of the human heart." Liseria murmured to herself, the smile on her lips growing deeper and colder.
"Blood Moon, your cruelty is far more beautiful than I imagined. Every torment, every plea, will become the richest nourishment for my path of catastrophic destruction."

She opened her eyes, her pupils gleaming with an eerie blue light. Her face gradually contorted in the darkness, revealing a strange and chilling expression:

"And you, my dear sister, though you will never realize it, are playing the most magnificent prelude to my tragedy."

A low, drawn-out murmur suddenly echoed within the tower, and the shadows on the walls twisted once more into countless faces of pain and despair, whispering their grievances to Liseria:

"Save us... Your Highness..."

"Take us away from this hell..."

"Please, please..."

Liseria gently closed her eyes, smiling contentedly, and whispered in response:

"No, my dear people, it is your pain and despair that I truly desire."

You are destined to perish in this tragedy, and I, at the end of your fate, will personally compose an eternal elegy for you.

As the shadows faded, Liseria's smile grew ever deeper and more twisted.

The fog in Alleston grew thicker, as if the entire city was being swallowed up by despair.

The gray sky, like a merciless curtain, covered all the hopes that had once been there.

Laughter and singing can no longer be heard on the streets and alleys; instead, only whispers of fear and suppressed gasps can be heard.

In the square in front of the Church of the Stars, more and more gallows and stakes for execution have been erected.

Every day, new "heretics" are bound here, enduring torture and death in the name of "purification" by the Church of Our Lady.

The crowd watched silently, their eyes numb and blank, devoid of anger or sorrow, only filled with a deep-seated fear and helplessness.

In this silent crowd, one figure stood out conspicuously.

Father Rex stood quietly on the street corner in the distance, clutching the monocle on his chest.

His face was pale, and his lips trembled slightly, as if he was trying his best to suppress the pain in his heart.

“Mira…” he murmured, “What have we done to turn this city into hell?”

Mira, the sea siren reflected in the mirror, also appeared incredibly sorrowful. She gazed at Rex through the mirror, her mouth agape, seemingly trying to comfort her lover.
Rex closed his eyes and sighed, "But I watched helplessly as those innocent people died, and I was powerless to stop it..."

The siren gently stroked Rex's face, trying to offer some solace to his wounded heart.

But Rex suddenly opened his eyes, his voice low and pained:
“I know, I’ve sensed it all along. It’s like the calm before the storm. Every person who is tortured, judged, and burned at the stake is adding more power to this storm…”

Once again, the agonizing screams of those about to be executed echoed across the square, accompanied by low sobs from the crowd. Father Rex painfully averted his gaze and murmured:

"What exactly do they want? Have their ambitions and madness led them to completely abandon the basic principles of being human?"

Liseria stood by the high window, looking down at the execution scene in the square, a satisfied yet indifferent smile on her face.

“It’s perfect…” she murmured to herself, her eyes filled with greed and excitement. “Every time the flames ignite, every wail intensifies the sorrow and regret of this city.”

I can clearly feel these negative emotions gradually gathering and transforming into boundless power.

Liseria raised her hand, her fingertips gently tracing the windowpane, as if caressing something invisible.

Suddenly, a faint and eerie song came from inside the tower, as if countless sorrowful souls were chanting softly at the same time.

The shadows on the wall twisted again, forming faces filled with unbearable grief, constantly pouring out their sorrow and pain to Liseria.

Liseria closed her eyes, listening with a smile to the whispers, as if she were enjoying an unparalleled concert:
“Yes, just like that… more sorrow, more despair… dear Medici, the more you press so hard, the more you persecute so cruelly, the more you create the richest nourishment for me.”

She suddenly opened her eyes, which flashed with a cold yet fanatical light:

“Everyone in Alleston, you are both actors and spectators in this tragedy. And I will, amidst your wails and lamentations, completely seize control of the soul of this city.”

Meanwhile, Father Rex in the square looked up at the sky again, the pale moonlight illuminating his sorrowful face. His lips trembled slightly as he whispered a prayer:
"Fate, please tell me, when will all this end?"

However, there was no response at this moment, only faint, desperate whispers and songs carried on the wind.

The night in Alleston was filled with an eerie stillness, like the last moments of peace before a storm.

A blood-red moon hung in the night sky, and a thick fog enveloped the entire city like tentacles.

It devoured all hope and joy, leaving only endless despair and sorrow.

The streets were deserted, as if all life had retreated, hiding in the shadows, praying for the end of this nightmare.

But in this silent darkness, a low and sorrowful song faintly drifted out, as if floating from the abyss of nothingness, drawing people irresistibly into its depths.

Liseria basked quietly in the moonlight, the silver light cascading over her slender body, outlining a cold and eerie silhouette.

She gently raised her arm, like a conductor about to lead a grand musical movement, her eyes gleaming with a wild and satisfied light.

“My dear people,” Liseria’s voice softly echoed in the void, like a whisper, drifting into the dreams of every person in Areston.
"Your pain, your sorrow, your regret and despair have converged into the purest melody I long for."

A cruel smile crept across her lips, and her voice rose and became clearer, as if piercing the very soul of the city:

"Sister, Blood Moon Incarnation, Queen of Trean, the fear and persecution you bring will only make this elegy more magnificent and splendid."

You think you have everything under control, but little do you know, everything you've done is merely paving the way for my promotion.

The singing grew stronger, transforming into mournful cries and whispers over the city. Transparent, distorted figures appeared in the void—the souls of those who had died because of judgment and persecution.

At this moment, they all appeared with Liseria's singing, surrounding her sadly and devoutly, telling of their unfulfilled wishes.

Meanwhile, in the palace, Queen Medusa sat on her high throne, her face grim, seemingly sensing the strange power surging from the city.

She slowly stood up, her gaze piercing through the heavy curtains as she looked towards the distant Tower of Saintly Chastity. For the first time, a hint of wavering and doubt appeared on her arrogant face.

"What is that sound?" Medusa whispered to the cardinals around her. "Where is this eerie whispering coming from?"

The bishops exchanged bewildered glances, their expressions revealing deep fear and unease.

“Your Majesty… these are the voices of the dead…” a bishop responded tremblingly, “They are accusing us, demanding a price…”

Medici whirled around, her eyes piercing the bishop like swords, and roared, "Nonsense! How could a dead soul have a voice?"

However, at that moment, the lights in the room suddenly flickered violently, and the shadows on the walls twisted into eerie shapes, as if countless sorrowful faces were accusing them.

At the top of the tower, Liseria raised her hand again, her smile growing increasingly crazed and cold:
“Dear sister, are you afraid? The truth you didn’t want to face is now finally being revealed to you.”

Your era has ended; what follows is the era of my lament!

The singing rose again, whispers and wails blending into an incredibly magnificent and eerie symphony that enveloped the entire city, plunging everyone into deep sorrow and despair.

Rex collapsed to his knees in anguish within the church, clutching his ears and muttering:

"I hope this nightmare will eventually come to an end..."

However, all that answered him was the ever-rising dirge, never ceasing, like the final chapter of fate, proclaiming the shattering and demise of all hope.

Liseria closed her eyes, seemingly lost in the symphony of destiny she had composed herself, and murmured softly:

"Alleston, your sorrow and despair are the most magnificent sacrifice on my path to ascension. Now, sleep, sink, and utterly surrender to fate..."

Her figure gradually merged into the darkness, leaving only an endless lament echoing in the void.

—From that moment on, the city entered into true eternal night.

When the light of faith is obscured by lies,

When the cry for freedom is suppressed and suffocated,
The world was left only with the lament of fate.

"All resistance will ultimately be in vain."
We can only remain in sorrow and despair.

I felt the true face of fate.

—Excerpt from *Aleston's Elegy: A Symphony of Fate*

(End of this chapter)