Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 477 The Stage for Revenge

Quantity cannot define victory or defeat.
Hatred cannot bring redemption.

But inside the tower,

Every roar is the prelude to judgment.

—The Black Book of the Tower of the End, Chapter of Evil Fire

The roar of the raging flames tore through the night sky once again.

At the end of the street, gray fog churned, and the red glow of flames, along with the smell of engine oil and rust, filled everyone's lungs.

The vengeful necromancer slowly rode in on that giant motorcycle made of bones and stamp ash, its chains dragging across the ground, sparks and raging flames exploding together.

Behind it were countless fiery knights.

Their motorcycles roared like living beasts, their headlights were burning eyes, and the raging fire spewing from their exhaust pipes was accompanied by howls.

Further away, three towering, dark hellish mail wagons rolled down the street, their wheels crushing the cobblestones and leaving behind a series of cursed marks like postmarks.

Six minotaur postmen strode forward, iron whips and blood-red envelopes in hand, their demeanor cold and indifferent, like executioners.

—The oppressive feeling struck them like a heavy hammer.

Isabel pushed up her glasses, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing the flask at her waist.

A cold glint flashed in her eyes, but she didn't forget to chuckle softly, "Ah... do you remember that mutated beast king from before? He tried to fight the knight alone."

The scene seemed to reappear in her voice.

With a roar, the Beast King transformed into a prehistoric Tyrannosaurus Rex, its fangs and bone spikes exploding as it tore apart dozens of Infernal Knights with the power of a catastrophic event.

But the knights did not back down; they branded his body with the infernal flames, branding them with their chains.

The flames don't burn flesh, they burn the soul.

In just a moment, Tyrant Card's howl broke, and its massive body collapsed with a crash, turning into a black skeleton, which was dragged away by the Fiend Knights.

Isabel said softly, "Even the Beast King met such an end... what about us?"

Reinhardt exhaled a puff of smoke, his fingertips tracing the mysterious card, his eyes as cold as blades.

"Hundreds of knights, a convoy of mail wagons, plus that undead... Tactically, they have an absolute advantage. We are doomed to defeat."

As soon as he finished speaking, the silence was so oppressive that the air itself seemed to shatter.

Si Ming suddenly chuckled softly, his eyes deep and unfathomable beneath the white clown mask: "Quantity? It has never been the key to war."

He slowly raised his hand, tapping his fingers in the air as if conducting a stage: "What determines victory or defeat is always determination."

Reinhardt stared at him, remained silent for a few seconds, and then suddenly burst into wild laughter, a laugh filled with utter madness.

"Yes, damn it, you're right! War is never just about adding or subtracting numbers; it's a frenzy of blood and fire!"

He suddenly opened his arms wide, as if to embrace the entire battlefield, his eyes burning with a bloodthirsty light.

"Then let my unlimited arsenal set this neighborhood ablaze with a true feast!"

The roar of the infernal flames mingled with the mad laughter of the Armory Master, seemingly foreshadowing an unprecedented bloody battle about to begin.

"—Base deployment, commence!"

Reinhardt's voice boomed like thunder, his mysterious cards burning in his palm, and the street suddenly cracked open.

The steel monster-like base vehicle slowly pushed out of the void, roaring like thunder.

The vehicle suddenly disintegrated, folded and unfolded, transforming into a complete arms base.

The command tower rose from the ground, its red signal lights flashing; the steel gates of the machine depot roared open, the sound of tracks shaking the earth.

The first Apocalypse Tank rolled out, its heavy cannon slowly rising, red flames gathering in its mouth. Then…
The second, the third... the steel torrent stretched along the street, its cannons simultaneously turning towards the Fiery Knights.

"boom--!"

The first cannon shot was like a thunderclap tearing through the night.

The fiery runway collapsed, sending dozens of riders and their motorcycles flying, the fiery flames turning into shattered streaks of light.

A mechanical shadow suddenly split open in the sky as Black Hawk helicopters roared down, raining rockets down from their wings.

The Fiery Mail Truck was speeding towards them from afar, its headlights gleaming menacingly, its iron wheels grinding against the ground.

Rockets were fired in unison, the entire block trembled from the explosions, and the mail truck's armor was blasted into sparks, dragging its wreckage like a roaring monster.

"Magnetic storm - recharge!"

Reinhardt suddenly waved his hand.

A dozen or so Tesla Troopers stood side by side, their chest-mounted generators emitting a low rumble.

The next second, blue arcs of electricity tore through the night sky, and swarms of fiery riders twisted and screamed in agony amidst the current, their motorcycles burning into plasma fireballs.

At this moment, the neighborhood completely transformed into a post-apocalyptic battlefield.

The red of the raging fire, the orange of the cannons, the blue of the electric arcs, and the white of the explosions—all these colors mingled together to create a frenzied oil painting of war.

Han Zhenya turned around gently, her green hair gleaming with a bewitching luster in the firelight.

She walked barefoot on the shattered paving stones, her skirt swaying.

Firelight is her stage light, explosions are her drumbeats.

She slightly raised her chin and stretched out her arms, as if dancing on a stage.

Corpses and motorcycle wreckage piled up behind her, yet she smiled as if taking her final bow.

Wayne's Necropolis, on the other hand, supports the other side.

Skeleton knights charged out of the shadows, their black spears piercing the Fiery Knights' motorcycles.

The fallen corpses rose again, swaying as they joined Wayne's legion, becoming new Dark Knights.

The wailing banshee on the castle tower let out a sharp cry, like sonic waves tearing through steel, which briefly froze the Fire Knight before he was instantly crushed by the Apocalypse Tank's cannon fire.

The fervor of war, the stage of doomsday, and the cries of the dead intertwine, making the entire street resemble a purgatory.

Despite the relentless onslaught of the Fire Knights and mail wagons, they were forced to halt their offensive as their firepower was largely contained.

The roar shattered all the windows in the neighborhood, the sky was torn apart by Black Hawk helicopters, and missiles fell with trails of flame.

On the ground, flames spewed from the muzzle of the Apocalypse Tank overturned a Hell Mail Truck into the air.

At the same time, Han Zhenya's singing voice continued to rise, and the puppets in the song, like crazy dance partners, pounced on the Fire Knights, dragging their motorcycles into the flames.

On the other side, Arist Wayne's dark fortress stood tall, and the undead legion swarmed out from the ground, wielding mottled shields and skeletal spears, blocking the street entrance completely.

At that moment, Isabel finally moved.

She slowly pushed up her glasses, her fingers tracing complex alchemical symbols in the air, and chanted softly:
"Here the wise rest, and here the dead are forged."

A deep blue alchemical array instantly unfolded on the street, covering the entire ruins.

The floor tiles cracked, and from the cracks emerged withered skeletal arms—four, ten, a hundred… the abominations roared as they rose from the ground.

Their bodies were bulky and ugly, yet under Isabel's command, they stood in neat rows, like a cold, alchemical legion. She snapped her fingers, and the abominations marched forward with heavy steps.
The heavy blows, like iron hooves, clashed with the barrage of fire from the Armory Master's Magnetic Storm Infantry.
It was as if the drumbeats of purgatory were being played.

The four forces roared together at this moment:

Reinhardt's arms frenzy, Han Zhenya's doomsday stage, Alistair's undead legion, and Isabel's abomination puppet.

They forcefully suppressed the offensive of the Knights of the Infernal, turning the entire street into a hellish battlefield of blood and fire, song and tears.

However, the chaotic battle situation also showed obvious cracks.

All of their main firepower was concentrated on dealing with the knights and the mail trucks.

The vengeful necromancer—the most terrifying fiery judge—remained indifferently seated on his motorcycle, chains wrapped around the street, his burning flames fixed on the judge.

The sense of oppression did not diminish, but rather intensified.

Amidst flames, electric arcs, and wailing cries, everyone was desperately trying to suppress the raging inferno.

Only one person stood in mid-air, like a detached bystander in the audience.

Beneath the white clown mask, Si Ming raised his hand and unfolded the Star Calamity identity card.

The card surface shimmered in the firelight, and the text was clearly visible:
Lie Weaver - Si Ming

Cataclysm Remaining Value: 1203/1790
"—1203."

He muttered to himself, his voice so soft it was almost swallowed up by the gunfire.

Then, he chuckled softly.

"The amount doesn't matter, what matters is... the stakes."

He raised a finger and lightly tapped the air, whispering as if a play were about to begin:
"The mystery of the thousand-faced one, the truth of lies."

A dark golden light suddenly burst forth from the card, like the veins of a lie crawling across the air.

Then, he whispered a second time:
"The Star Calamity of the Liar Weavers - Lies Become Truth."

The air suddenly distorted, as if the world itself was forced to echo this statement.

Originally, the ability to make a lie come true could only reproduce one percent of the celestial disaster abilities he had ever seen.

But lies are truths that can be fabricated.

When a "true lie" is combined with a "lie coming true," the effect increases dramatically by fifty times.

"Fifty percentage points."

He held up one finger, as if announcing the next act on stage.

Siming's figure suddenly transformed into countless points of light, like stars shattering.

The next second, he was already dozens of meters away.

With a flash of light, he returned to his original spot.

In another flash, he stopped directly above the vengeful necromancer's chains. The chains brushed past his feet, but didn't even touch a scrap of his clothing.

"Boundary Walker - LV1".

He uttered the name of the ability softly, as if in homage.

The street fell silent for a moment.

The fiery knights roared, their chains lashing out, their flames scorching and consuming them.

But the figure in the white mask left only streaks of light, moving between the flames and chains as if it were nothing.

Si Ming stood with his hands behind his back, his figure flashing and stopping, standing right in front of the vengeful necromancer's motorcycle.

He bowed slightly, like a humble actor, but his gaze was cold and sharp. Si Ming turned back and smiled in the direction of Isabel and the others:

“I had a private talk with it.”

"The rest of the small fry are yours to handle."

As soon as he finished speaking, he and the vengeful necromancer transformed into two torrents of light and fire, instantly disappearing from the battlefield and taking away all the oppressive atmosphere.

The park was dimly lit, filled with the smells of rust and scorched earth.

The trees had long since died, their branches swaying in the night wind like a group of bystanders witnessing a trial.

A burst of flame fell first, the iron chain tore the earth apart, and the lawn, several meters long, was instantly burned to charcoal.

The vengeful undead, carrying a burning motorcycle, crashed down with a roar that tore through the night sky.
It was as if thousands of wronged souls were wailing at the same time.

"Roar--!"

Hellfire erupted from its chest, streetlights were blasted to pieces, and metal turned into a twisted liquid.

Immediately afterwards, another spot of light appeared in mid-air.

Si Ming landed slowly, the tip of his boot lightly touching the scorched earth, stirring up a fine mist.

He raised his hand and casually brushed the dust off his gloves, like an actor stepping out from behind a theater curtain.

Then, he straightened his sleeves in a gentlemanly manner.

Beneath the white clown mask, a half-smile curved his lips.

The vengeful undead surged with fury, and the iron chains instantly transformed into hundred-meter-long fire snakes, slashing down from the sky.

The raging fire engulfed everything, even melting the statues in the distant park into flowing gold.

However, a flash of light appeared in the flame.

The figure of the Fate Master had already disappeared.

The next moment, he appeared on the other side of the gap in the chains.
The fiery flames brushed past him, without even touching the creases of his clothes.

The motorcycle roared and charged forward, crushing the road surface with a thunderous crash.

The God of Fate appeared and disappeared amidst the flickering afterimages, each step he took just barely brushing against death.

He seemed to be dancing leisurely, not fleeing for his life.

After several rounds of frenzied attacks, the vengeful undead grew increasingly violent, spewing fiery flames and whipping its chains wildly.
But not a single strike could actually touch the figure in the white mask.

Si Ming suddenly stopped and stood before the molten remains of the iron chains.
His voice was deep, yet carried a nonchalant chill:
"—That concludes the warm-up activities."

His eyes flashed with coldness, and his voice beneath the mask was like a pronouncement:
"Next, I will send you back to—hell."

Flames and specks of light intertwined.
On one side were the vengeful undead's burning, wrathful eyes.

On the other side, beneath the white clown mask, lies a mocking yet cruel smile.

"Hatred is the Tower's most loyal messenger."

It will not forget its name.
It will only bring death to you time and time again.

—The Hell Post Office Delivery Rules

(End of this chapter)