Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 439 The Life Borrower, Nine Exits and Thirteen Returns

“I have seen golden hair turn from wheat to snow white, growing old along with the city walls.”

—From the margins of "The Alleston Night Ballads: A Complete Score" and "The Requiem for the Dead"

The blood moon hung low, and the wind before the royal palace was like a drawn bowstring.

Medici moved first. She held her scepter horizontally and whispered the Valkyrie's true name, each word like a thorny rose squeezed from her throat:
"With blood as armor and thorns as sheath—as commanded, the rose of thorns."

Brambles rose from her ankles, winding around her calves, waist, and collarbone, growing into her nails.
Red feathers unfurled behind her, the scepter felt different, and a black and red flower bloomed from its head. She raised her chin, her whole being resembling a spear that had been set ablaze.

On the other side, Liseria pressed two fingers together against her chest. She stood as if on the proscenium of a midnight opera house, her long, silvery-white dress trailing on the ground, a lion crouching at her feet, its mane pressing against the wind.

Her face was momentarily blurred in the lamplight, like a mirror being wiped by breath—her features were still beautiful, but she carried the coldness of a vengeful witch.

She opened her lips, but no breath was heard. Wailing wails rose from all directions at once, as if an invisible string had lowered the pitch of the air, and fine cracks appeared on the stone steps.

"The show has begun." Si Ming turned his head to the side, the smile on his mask tinged with an incongruous silence.

—The gun fired first.

Snap, snap, snap, snap!

Rex fired without warning, raising his gun and striking simultaneously at four points: the center of the sternum, the back of the neck, the seam between the scepter and the arm bone, and the base of the blood wing. Stone chips and blood mist exploded together, and Medici paused in her tracks.

“Now.” Celian fell from the height, blood flames enveloping her fingertips, a claw piercing her chest, the red light sinking into the stone steps behind her.

Medici fell backward, her scepter slipped from her hand, and red feathers scattered all over the ground.

A moment of silence.

The ground in front of the palace bulged, and the thin red membrane rose and fell like breathing.

As the membrane shimmered and opened, Medici stood up unharmed, water droplets trickling down her eyelashes. She reached out, the scepter returning to her palm from mid-air, her gaze passing over the Fate-Bearer and landing on the muzzle of Rex's gun, coldly:
"As long as the blood moon exists, I will not die."

Her blonde hair remained shiny even in the blood rain, smooth and clinging to her cheeks as if it had just been combed.

Rex pursed his lips, a cold glint reflecting in his monocle: "Got it. One more time."

The lion slithered on the ground, its claws digging into the cracks in the rocks. Liseria tilted her head slightly, her mournful cry growing even lower, as if the air itself were being held down by a hand; Celian's feet sank, and her blood wings were forced to retract half a foot.

Siming didn't raise his voice, only glancing at Medici's hair—bright gold, full, without a trace of dryness. He tapped his fingertips lightly in his palm, as if keeping accounts:
"Memorize the colors first."

Medici flicked her wrist, and the scepter swept across. She asked no questions, like a weapon that had just risen from the blood and only wanted to knock people back into the blood.

The mournful cries pressed down from above, like pressing the air into water.

Liseria floated in mid-air, her skirt trailing behind her, and with a gentle stroke of her fingertips, the entire avenue seemed to lower in pitch. Celian's steps faltered, and she felt as if an invisible hand had pressed down on her chest.

"Come down, Princess." Celian looked up, her blood wings flapped, and she soared upwards.

Her blood-red claws aimed straight for his throat—their fingertips swept across, but only grasped a layer of coldness.

Ghostly entity.

Liseria's silhouette thinned, becoming as white as mist on a window, momentarily insubstantial. Blood claws pierced through her, but instead seeped from behind Celian's elbow, as she whispered:
Don't waste your energy. People will eventually go down.

Selene laughed, a cold glint flashing in her canine teeth: "You lent me your fire to keep warm, and I considered you a friend. Betrayal, is that the title of your song?"

"Friend?" Liseria tilted her head, her eyes like a light about to go out, her voice so soft it was as if she were talking in her sleep:
"You've misunderstood. People get close to each other to find warmth. I just took my share."

She raised her hand and silently slapped it down. Selene's shoulder jerked, and a clean cut was made in her wing membrane.

Selene remained unperturbed, licking her canine teeth as crimson flames rose between her fingers: "Sing. Once you've sung yourself hoarse, I'll tear your throat apart."

She took three quick steps from the side, each step leaving a bloody footprint on the ground, her blood claws trailing a red arc in the air—

Empty again. Liseria switched back to her ghost form before triggering the effect once more, as thin as a sheet of paper.

Si Ming glanced at the sky from behind and raised his finger.

"Star Rain".

A rift opened in the night sky, and cold blue streaks of fire fell one by one, like all the sand in the sky being dumped. The starfall wasn't heavy, but its momentum was great; the glowing tails trailed in the eye sockets, making people unconsciously turn their heads.

Liseria frowned slightly, cutting into her ghost form ahead of time. Her figure became even fainter, as if she had erased a stroke from her own body, preparing to pass through those beams of cold light.

"Now," Si Ming whispered.

The starlight suddenly dimmed before her, the light curtain falling like a curtain, dividing her vision into two layers. The next instant, from behind the starlight's shadow, a deep crimson figure shot forward—

Celian.

She stayed close behind Xingyu, using her luminous tail to conceal her jump.

The moment Liseria withdrew from her ghost form, a blood claw pierced through her chest.

puff--

A dark flower bloomed on her silver-white dress, a lion roared, and its claws shattered the stone steps. Liseria lowered her head, looking at the hand on her chest, her eyes showing no surprise, only silence.

"Does it still hurt?" Celian whispered in her ear, her voice sounding like it had just been pulled out of hell: "The pain of being deceived is worse than this."

Liseria's lips moved, a faint, mournful sound rising in her throat: "It hurts because you still think it's worth it."

She looked up at the distant night: "Everything is going out. So are you."

Celian pressed her down from the air, withdrawing her blood claws and leaving a trail of fine silver threads. Liseria landed beside the lion, her body tilted to the side, her skirt spreading out like an overturned musical score.

The ground in front of the palace bulged slightly, and a thin red membrane breathed through the cracks in the stones.

Selene shook the blood off her hands, the flame at her fingertips brightening a degree, her voice cold:
"Stop singing. My ears only recognize the true sound."

She turned around and gestured with her chin towards Si Ming. Si Ming nodded, his gaze still fixed on the distance.
"You've got the beat right."

The lion crouched down, letting out a suppressed growl. Somewhere beneath the membrane, a heartbeat could be heard.

The stone surface in front of the royal palace bulged up again.

A thin red membrane broke open, and Liseria sat up from inside.

She covered the hole in her chest, her fingers steady, as if pressing a note back into tune. The lion growled low on the ground, its mane damp and glistening.

She looked up at Celian and said in a voice as soft as the wind, "You see, the pain will pass quickly."

Rex pressed the lens into his eye socket.

Mira sang in his ear. Not a melody, but a series of short, ephemeral reminders:
"Take a half step to the right, and the cane will rise."

"She will offer her shoulder and touch the area below her collarbone."

"In the next moment, she will shift her weight—her chest will be empty."

Rex did as instructed.

The muzzle bounced between the sternum, temples, Adam's apple, brow, and the hairline at the back of the neck, each shot seemingly guided by a rope to its designated spot.

Medici took the first hit head-on, blocked the second with her scepter, the third grazed her earlobe and drew blood, and the fourth dented her armor.

"Put the gun down."

Medici whispered, and her scepter spurred straight forward.

Rex lightly touched the ground with his toes, flashing to her side as if skimming along the wall in a narrow corridor. The shadow of his cane brushed past his shoulder, catching a wisp of his clothing.

“Left shoulder back—she’ll sweep her leg,” Mira continued singing.

“Understood,” Rex smiled.

The fifth shot hit an open area under the armpit;
The sixth shot was used to repair the left side of the atrium.
The seventh strike was made by threading the scepter through the seam between the arm bone and the scepter.

The eighth shot, half a step counterclockwise, hit the low back of the head.

Medici did not retreat, but instead pressed closer. The scepter, adorned with blood-red feathers, cleaved through the sandstorm before her, so close that she could smell the mingled scent of iron and flowers.

Rex flashed again, and the entire road seemed to tilt beneath his feet. He raised his gun from behind Medici, and the ninth shot pierced the back of her neck.

"ten."

"eleven."

"twelve."

Each of Mila's soft singing moments was a beat ahead of its intended landing.

Medici's steps faltered for a moment.

Rex grinned and whispered, "Thirteen."

The thirteenth shot hit right in the center.

Her body paused for a moment, the scepter slipped from her fingers, she knelt on the steps, and then fell backward.

A moment of blankness.

The womb of blood swelled before the royal palace, its membranes breathing like a giant fish exhaling at the surface of water. Medusa emerged unharmed, wiping the blood from her eyelashes, and picked up her scepter.

Her blonde hair had lost some of its shine, and a strand near her cheek looked a little dry.

She didn't look at Rex, but turned her head to look at Si Ming, her smile faint: "In vain."

Liseria stood slightly behind her, her fingertips raised, her voice as mournful as smoke: "The ending has never changed. You have only prolonged the process."

Red rain fell down the palace steps, like fine threads stitching the battlefield together.

Rex slung the gun back over his shoulder, spat out the blood in his mouth, and saw the sea flash by in his monocle. His voice was hoarse yet tinged with laughter: "Then—keep modifying it."

Selene rose into the air, her fingers outstretched.

Blood rained down, forming a red ring around her, as if sealing off the battlefield.

"Blood Domain." She licked her canine teeth. "Even banshees have to get their hands dirty with blood."

Liseria floated outside the ring road, her skirt trailing down. She lightly brushed the air with her fingertips, and the entire avenue lowered its pitch once more.

The mournful cries were like a wet blanket, pressing down on a person from the chest.

Celian did not retreat. She raised her palm and pushed forward—the Acidic Swamp swelled up beneath Liseria's feet, the ground bubbled and turned white, and smoke rose from the soles of her boots.

"Come down."

Liseria struck silently, crushing the edge of the swamp with a single palm strike. Her body thinned, and her ghostly form grazed past her claws, leaving only a wisp of cold wind behind.

She whispered, "Don't struggle. The ending has already been written."

"Whose hands are these written on?" Si Ming snapped his fingers from afar, "Three silent beats."

Suddenly, the world fell silent.

Three blank spaces, like heartbeats.

Selian seized the opportunity to fall. The wolf pack emerged from her shadow, three bloody shadows snapping together, biting down simultaneously from the front, behind, and diagonally above.

Liseria switched back to her ghost form, her body turning white and thinning, and two wolves passed over her; a third wolf bit her newly recovered wrist, drawing blood that, when it touched the forbidden area, immediately became more pronounced.

“Got it.” Celian’s nostrils flared slightly.

Liseria snapped her fingers, and the final note took shape, ready to be pressed down from above—

Si Ming raised his hand: "Dark Star."

A black dot appeared before Liseria, as if it had absorbed both light and sound. The final note lost its balance and was swallowed by the black dot, causing the surrounding stone patterns to appear distorted.

Her brow furrowed, and she slid to the side.

"Cover up." Siming raised his hand again. "Star Rain."

A slit was torn in the night, and a cold, blue tail of fire poured down. Not to kill, but to slice the line of sight into pieces of curtain.

Liseria subconsciously entered ghost form earlier than usual, her body becoming thinner as she prepared to pass through the rain of light.

In the starlight shower, something suddenly burst open in front of us.

Celian.

She remained close to the edge of Guangwei's tail, using the firelight to erase her own shadow.

The instant Liseria withdrew from her ghost form—a blood claw pierced her chest.

puff.

A dark flower bloomed from the silver-white dress. The lion suddenly pounced on the ground, but was kicked away by Selene, whose claw marks left a trail of sparks.

“If you can’t sing steadily, you should shut up.” Celian leaned close to her ear, her breath hot. “The same goes for friends. Besides, do you think we won’t do the same thing again?”

Liseria lowered her eyes, looking at the hand on her chest, her voice seeming to come from the mist: "It hurts, but it will pass soon. Everything will stop."

"Not today."

Selene stepped on her skirt, tearing it horizontally with her bloody claws, from her heart to her shoulder, the shimmering sound spreading out like cold air from the tear.

She grabbed again with her other hand, and the wings were broken—the translucent wings behind Liseria were crushed into pieces, turning into silent snow.

“Star Egg.” Siming raised a finger.

Behind rooftops, eaves, and broken walls, rows of dark eggs swelled and cracked open. Half-human, half-insect monsters crawled out of the eggs.
Screaming, it lunged at the surrounding threads of sorrow, gnawing along the invisible lines, tearing the sticky grief into pieces.

They didn't go to gang up on Liseria; instead, they cleared the area—tearing her out of control of the battlefield.

Selene raised her hand, and a wall of blood surged up, knocking the Azure Lion over before kicking it into the Acidic Swamp. The Azure Lion struggled, its mane steaming, and let out a hoarse growl.

"You borrowed my fire and burned me all over."

Celian leaned down, her canine tooth lightly touching Lyseria's earlobe. "I'll return it to you."

She retracted her claws and unleashed three consecutive slashes:

The first move: a chokehold;

The second move: Breaking the Heart;

The third move: lift her chin, raising that almost unreal beauty to the starlight—let the night illuminate her clearly.

Liseria's eyes held no fear, only emptiness. She finally exhaled a puff of mist: "Thank you."

thump.

She landed, her skirt spreading out like a torn page of a musical score.

The ground in front of the royal palace swelled up once more. The thin, red membrane began to breathe.

Selene shook the blood off her claws, turned back and nodded to Siming: "Next time, I'll rip her throat out."

Si Ming glanced into the distance. The starfall was waning, the dark stars were slowly shrinking, and the monsters hatched from the star eggs were climbing along the wall, biting at more unseen threads of sorrow. He whispered:

"The rhythm is still on our side. Keep going."

In the distance, the metallic clang of scepters and sniper rifles clashed once more.

Medici was approaching from the other side, Rex's flames slicing holes in her chest and the top of her hair.

Each time she fell, the membrane of her blood-filled uterus swelled—and her hair color, in the red rain, quietly lost a layer of luster.

Before the king's palace, the membrane bulged up once again.

A thin layer of crimson broke through, and the two queens emerged side by side. Water dripped down their eyelashes, and the crimson rain merged into a thin stream at their feet.

Medici raised her cane, a smile playing on her lips: "Some destinies are predetermined. Blood—never dies."

Liseria stood beside her, her fingertips lightly brushing the air, her mournful voice like clouds: "Lamentation endures forever. You are merely moving a movement in a melody."

Si Ming smiled. He lifted his mask slightly, his voice soft, yet each word struck the heart:

"Life is like a dream, how can there be anything that is immortal?"

Whether it is man, god, the supreme being, or even the word 'fate' itself—all will eventually perish.

He raised his finger and pointed unceremoniously at Medici's temple:
"What you seek is nothing but self-deception. It is worthless before the Lord of Lies."

Medici's smile remained unchanged. The Fate Master continued:
“Look at your hair color. Every time you ‘come back,’ every time you take her place—” He glanced at Liseria,
"—You're paying the price with your own lifespan. Once it's all gone, how will you repay the debt of your blood?"

He paused, as if reminding someone of an unwritten rule: "Resurrecting a Cataclysm is not the same price as resurrecting a member of the family."

The wind swept through the cracks in the royal palace, and the red rain paused for a moment.

Medici subconsciously raised her hand, her fingertips brushing against her temples. The gold there was now tinged with a frosty white, as fine as salt.

Bloodwing trembled slightly behind her, and its patterns became even lighter.

Liseria's eyes remained calm, but the lion lowered its head and let out a very low growl.

Rex was reloading in the distance. Selene licked the blood off her fingers, shifted her gaze from the two men's faces to the streak of white hair, and gave a toothy smile.

The God of Fate withdrew his words from his palm, as if closing an account book:
"The creditors are present tonight."

The red rain fell again, but no longer smoothly, as if someone had pressed down on a valve.

"Borrowing a life is like borrowing money; nine times you go out, thirteen times you return."

The accounts were kept in ledgers, and losses were recorded down to the last detail.

When it is completely white, like snow covering the city, then I will not ask gods or men, but only: What is there left to repay?

—From *The Blood and Life Accounting Book: IOUs*

(End of this chapter)