Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 433 Lies as Blades, Faith Reduced to Ashes

"The lies of the old gods can make a city bow down to the blood moon;"
The vanity of the new god causes His followers to tear each other apart.

—The Secret Records of Elostia, the Deceptive King

The square in front of the cathedral looks like it's been swallowed up by an ancient well.

Countless Blood Moon devotees crowded the space between the steps and the statues, while devout Blood Moon priests walked among them, holding holy chalices and holy symbols, constantly uttering sticky incantations.

The air was heated by their breathing and smelled of blood.

In the center of that crimson tide, Rex lowered his head, his lips moving incessantly, his sneers like crushed prayers, half hymn, half curse.

His eyes were vacant, as if he were gazing at some distant, unreachable heaven.

"Do you see that, Sir Fate?"

Medici's voice lingered in his ears through the whispers of the Blood Moon.

“Those are your closest friends. Alright, go and kill—kill them, or be killed by them. Have fun, Si Ming.”

Si Ming simply pursed his lips.

His gaze passed over the distorted faces, over the throngs of believers, over the crimson tide of faith, and settled only on Rex—

The "priest" who was in pain but still murmured prayers.

As for these believers?

No matter who they came from, no matter how many there are, they are nothing more than illusions that he can erase in a single thought.

The God of Fate raised his hand.

The air swirls at your fingertips, and vain whispers pour forth like a tidal wave.

“The Deceptive King – Irostia”

In the void, a colossal shadow appeared, like a throne phantom that had crossed over from a dream.

Si Ming tilted his head, a faint, ambiguous smile playing on his lips.

"Blood moon? Faith? Immortality? Divine kingdom? ... They are nothing but old lies and the illusions of new gods."

He gently raised his eyes and whispered:
"Irostia, liberate these poor humans who wander in the lies of the gods."

"As you wish."

He snapped his fingers.

Thick fog suddenly surged up from the ground, like seawater overturned by an invisible hand, instantly engulfing the entire square.

The Blood Moon cultists and priests screamed and roared, their eyes filled with the presence of the Fate God.

He stood in front, behind, to the left and right, and above—every direction. Every figure wore those cold, indifferent eyes.

Fear and madness overlapped in their pupils, and their throats roared simultaneously.

Blood claws, sharp teeth, and tentacles all swung down, lunging at the nearest "Fate Master".

However, none of these "destiny oracles" are real—so they rush towards their compatriots, their fellow believers, and even their own shadows.

Chaos erupted in an instant.

Blood mist churned, and the sounds of bones cracking and biting intertwined into a chaotic symphony.

Some were strangled by tentacles, others had their former companions bitten in the throat, and blood splattered like raindrops on the statues and stone slabs.

In no time, the square was covered with stench-filled, putrid blood, and the mangled limbs of half-human, half-ghost creatures piled up on every step.

When the fog dissipated, only one person remained, walking silently on the sea of ​​flesh and blood.

Sima Ming.

His steps were steady, as if he were walking on a clean corridor.

Meanwhile, Rex remained kneeling before the altar, his hands clutching the sacred book sewn from flesh and blood, his lips still whispering devoutly, seemingly oblivious to the carnage unfolding before him.

Rex slowly raised his head.

He was still wearing that priest's robe, the holy sash hanging from his shoulders already soaked in blood, swaying slightly with his movements.

The holy book in his hand, sewn from human skin and flesh, oozed a viscous red liquid from its pages, which gathered into thin streams at his fingertips and dripped onto the stone slab.

"May Our Lady have mercy...May the Blood Moon last forever...May Your Majesty bless you..."

Whispers flowed out like a tide, the words indistinct yet carrying a certain weight of authority.

The surrounding air suddenly froze, and the sound was as if it were being pressed into the bottom of the water by a giant hand.

The sacred text slammed shut, and Rex's voice rose to the level of a hymn—

"His wings veil the light—"

The sky suddenly darkened, and blood-red wings emerged from the void, transforming into three blood-winged angels. Their wings were interwoven with feathers and blood vessels, their eyes were all vertical pupils, and they held long spears as sharp as bone blades as they swooped down from the sky.

"His blade severs heresy—"

On both sides of the plaza, the figures of Blood Moon Knights materialized out of thin air, their armor and flesh merging together, their spear tips trailing red light, as they arrayed themselves and approached Si Ming.

"His vision penetrates all things—"

Behind Rex, the Holy Scripture emitted a deep rumble, and between the pages opened a huge eye without eyelids, a blood-red crack appearing deep within its pupil.

Ahead of the rift, the air was distorted into a sniper's trajectory, and the Blood Void Blade locked onto Siming's chest.

—The hunt begins.

Si Ming simply raised his hand and flicked his knuckles.

The realm of lies rippled outwards like water, and the scene in the square overlapped, folded, and distorted in an instant.

The angels swooped down, but saw each other's shadows, and plunged their spears into their companions' chests.

The Blood Moon Knights pressed forward in unison, but in the next instant they felt that their comrades in front of them were heretics, and their spears and shield walls instantly reversed direction.
The Void Blade lost its target, and the crimson trajectory exploded in the air, splattering not blood, but countless phantoms that turned to ashes.

"Lies are always more lethal than the truth." Si Ming's voice rang in the ears of every enemy.

With a flick of his wrist, a deck of cards unfolded between his fingers.

The J of Squares flew diagonally, cutting through the air and severing the spear shaft and throat of a Blood Moon Knight;
The King of Hearts—its rune-inlaid edge exploded the moment it touched the ground, engulfing the three angels in flames and blood mist;
The Ace of Spades—its face transformed into a long blade, carrying surging poisonous mist, piercing a knight's heart, black blood bubbles gushing from the gaps in his armor.

Every card played was precise and swift, without any unnecessary movements.

In his hands, playing cards were not magic tricks, but spells of judgment.

But Rex did not stop.

His prayers grew more urgent, his voice sounding as if urged on from behind.

The pillar of blood moonlight in the sky began to thicken, like some kind of injected umbilical cord, directly connecting to his back.

The air around him thickened, carrying a sticky, pungent smell of blood—

—That's a sign of the next phase.

Si Ming stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"...It seems you won't recognize me unless I put some pressure on you."

The pillar of light from the blood moon suddenly contracted, then surged again in an instant, as if the umbilical cord of the sky had been suddenly tightened.

Rex's back bulged with sharp lines, his robe ripped to shreds as it broke through his spine, and his holy sash was severed by blood-red veins, falling into the blood at his feet.

click -

The sound of bones cracking was like a rusty lock being forcibly twisted open.

His arms snapped outwards, bones elongated, and knuckles broke off into sharp, sickle-shaped limbs—the forearms of a praying mantis.

The skin quickly hardened into an exoskeleton with blood-red stripes, and a thick, dark red liquid seeped from the joints.

His abdomen churned violently, and in the next instant, countless slender, blood-red worms, as thick as fingers and covered with tiny barbs, emerged from his body. They twisted and stretched into the sky, piercing directly into the pillar of light of the blood moon, merging with the heavens.

With each umbilical cord-like worm pulsation, Rex's body twitched, as if every muscle was being controlled by an unseen giant hand.

His face, half of it still retained a human shape, was the familiar Rex grinning on the deck;

The other half was covered by an exoskeleton, the eyes became compound eyes, and the mouthparts split into multiple fine teeth, emitting a friction-like vibrato.

Medusa's whisper echoed from within the pillar of blood moonlight:

"He is now my hunter. Si Ming, are you ready to be dismembered?"

Rex let out a low growl, his voice sounding like two people speaking at the same time—one was his own voice, deep and painful; the other was the will of the Blood Moon, sharp and cold.

The next instant, he vanished from the spot.

——Bang!

The stone slab was shattered by the immense force, and the mantis's blade-like limbs slashed out horizontally, the blood-stained afterimage forcing Siming to dodge backward.

Where the blade grazed the air, the wall was sculpted into a smooth bevel, with splattered dust mixed with tiny specks of blood.

He did not stop.

Two horsehair worms suddenly lashed out, wrapping around Siming's shoulders and waist like living whips, their barbs instantly piercing his clothing.

Tiny streaks of blood began to seep from where the thorns touched him, as if trying to drain his life away.

With a flick of his wrist, the playing cards flew through his hand—

The Queen of Spades cuts a horsehair worm in half, and hot black blood spurts from the cut.

The 9 of cubes exploded in mid-air, forcing Rex to take a step back.

But more horsehair worms emerged from his body, weaving a writhing web of blood along the ground, walls, and even in the air, sealing off Si Ming's escape routes layer by layer.

Rex raised his arms high, his bladed limbs reflecting a crimson light under the beam of light, his compound eyes gleaming with the cold light of a predator—

At this moment, he was no longer the close friend of the Fate Master, but a nightmare sculpted by the will of the Blood Moon.

The blood network of the horsehair worm grew denser and denser, and as it wriggled, it made a soft, grinding sound, like a blade scraping against bone.

Rex raised his blade high, his compound eyes reflecting the figure of the Fate Master, the blood on the blade surging like a tide.

Si Ming took a deep breath, and the playing cards in his palm suddenly transformed into countless thin silver threads, spinning around him like spider silk in a storm.

"That's enough, Rex."

He raised his hand and pointed to the sky—

laugh!
Several silver lines shot out like streaks of light, precisely severing all the umbilical cords connecting Rex and the Blood Moon.

The beam of light shattered suddenly, scattering crimson fragments of light. The worms let out sharp, mournful cries and were pulled back from Rex's body.

The moment the power supply was cut off, Rex was like a diver cut off from the air; his body convulsed violently, his limbs fell to the ground, his exoskeleton cracked, and his compound eyes gradually dimmed.

In the distance, Medici's whispers drifted back with a hint of laughter:

"Siming... How does it feel to kill your best friend with your own hands? You severed his only lifeline."

Rex's chest heaved violently, and he gasped for breath, his throat frothing with blood.

His compound eyes gradually faded, revealing the eyes that had once smiled as they gazed at the stars on the deck.

He raised a hand and, as usual, waved half-jokingly:

"Hey... Si Ming."

He coughed up blood, but a smile played on his lips. "Mira wouldn't like me looking like this. If she saw me like this, she'd probably stab me a few times with her trident."

Si Ming's gaze darkened, and he said nothing.

Rex took a deep breath, his voice as soft as if he were recounting an old story from a tavern:
"Do me a favor... bro. End this for me."

I'd rather reunite with her in the underworld than be a monster in this hell.

Si Ming crouched down, met his gaze, and spoke in a low but firm voice:
"Do not."

He opened his hands, and threads of fate drifted from his fingertips, wrapping around Rex's body like a gentle tide completely enveloping him.

The silk threads intertwine to form a thick cocoon, which gently contracts, isolating the outside world from light and sound.

"You will live, Rex."

In this new destiny—not a slave to the Blood Moon, but a wanderer of the Lost Ones.

The cocoon hung silently behind Siming, like a story waiting to be rewritten.

Si Ming stood up and looked up at the direction of the blood moon in the distance.

His voice was deep and sharp in the wind:
"Meddess, you're next."

Si Ming withdrew his gaze, and the cocoon of fate floated silently behind him, like a sleeping planet.

He turned and strode toward the palace.

At the same moment—

The sound of low, slow hooves echoed along the royal avenue in front of the palace.

Those were not ordinary horse hooves, but the rhythm of a lion's paws crushing stone slabs.

Liseria sat upright on the back of the lion.

She stood upright, her long hair cascading down, her hands naturally folded on her knees, like a monarch about to enter the palace.

Her eyes were serene, yet held a chilling quality that made it impossible to look directly at her.

Behind her stood rows of ordinary people.

These people no longer resembled humans—their bodies were entangled in spider silk, their limbs were long and thin with protruding joints, as if they might fold back into themselves at any moment.

Each person has two, or even four, different faces on their head:

Some sobbed softly, some wailed, some had expressions frozen in despair, and some convulsed silently.

The weight of that emotion seemed to solidify, hanging on their faces.

Their steps were synchronized, like a creature crawling in pain.

With each step they took, spider silk would extend from their ankles to the ground, leaving a long, thin trail of dampness.

At the very front of the group stood a figure with one knee slightly bent, holding a long sword.

Alan Herwin.

His face was covered in blood and tears, his eyes were unfocused, as if all his naivety and hesitation had been stripped away.

The power of the vampire surged within him, yet he no longer possessed any will of his own.

He followed slowly behind the lion, his steps like those of a chain.

Behind him, a huge blood-red cocoon was being dragged along by spider silk.

Through the cracks in the cocoon, Selene's face was revealed—pale, weak, and seemingly on the verge of death.

The wind swept through the dilapidated palace gates.

Liseria's lips curved slightly upward, and she spoke in a low, almost murmuring voice, yet it reached the ears of everyone present clearly:

"Daughter of the Azure Lion, Star of Sorrowful Fate—Salute to the Lord of the Blood Moon."

Dear sister... your poor little sister longs to spend a moment with you.

"Some encounters are not for reunion, but for plunging a sharper knife into each other's hearts."

—From the fragments of "The Secret Manuscript of Ailing Life"

(End of this chapter)