Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 525 Life is but a dream, a scroll of illusion

God wrote the truth.
I write lies.

And if a lie can become the truth

That is my faith.

—From *The Tale of the Planetary Disaster: Fragments of the Lie Weavers*

The taste of blood is the taste of iron mixed with fate.

Si Ming knelt on the ground, half of his body shattered, the broken bones cracking softly with the rhythm of his breathing.

His right arm was still dripping blood, which flowed over the broken chessboard, along the lines, and filled each broken square.

Shizuka Gozen gently stroked the edge of the fan, her eyes tender, as if she were looking at a patient about to be "buried".

Yu Wuzun stood atop the blood-red waves, sword in hand, his armor gleaming a dark red in the flames.

“The Divine Kingdom Sacrifice,” he said in a low voice, “is to begin with the blood of the rebels.”

Si Ming raised his head, his eyes shining from the blood, and sneered.

"Do you see that? This is the true destiny—even my blood is a carefully orchestrated foreshadowing."

The voice was low and soft, as if it were just a casual remark.

But in the next instant, light emanated from the center of the pool of blood, and an illusory chessboard emerged from the ground, its squares shimmering like stars.

First technique: Making lies seem true.

He slowly raised his right hand, the bloodstains on his palm were absorbed by the chessboard, and light exploded behind him.

A huge, blood-red womb slowly rotated and unfolded; it was the divine palace of the "Blood Priest".

Red light shone through the broken ceiling, illuminating Shizuka Gozen's grey-gold eyes.

The priest whispered, as if talking to himself: "A lie becomes the truth—a replica, the Blood Priest, the Immortal Palace."

The shrine began to tremble.

Blood return—

The severed arm twitched, the broken bones were repositioned, and the skin and flesh sutured back together.

His body was reborn in the mirror, the bloodstains receded, and the bones refracted light to form new patterns.

Yu Wuzun's pupils contracted, and he roared, "He's resurrecting! Slay him—!"

Shuten-dōji roared, his spiked club bursting into flames as it crashed down!

The red light scattered, the outer shell of the divine palace shattered, but just as it was about to touch the God of Fate, it turned into a phantom.

The illusory clone stood still, taking the full force of the attack.

Blood splattered out, turning into a mirror flower upon landing, reflecting Shuten-dōji's ferocious expression.

The true master of destiny has emerged from the other side.

Shizuka Gozen's breathing became slightly erratic, and she said softly, "...That wasn't an illusion. It was the script of fate."

For the first time, she felt uneasy.

Si Ming raised his eyes, a faint smile on his face: "Finally understood a bit of the lines?"

The second technique: Weaving fate and the script of the yellow-clad woman.

Light gathered into a vortex behind him, and the shadow of the Thousand Faces emerged from the light.

The white mask was expressionless, yet each turn revealed a strange smile.

Two hands moved through the air, as if stitching together an invisible script.

At the same time, another mysterious card lit up.

The King in Yellow.

The light screen transformed into a scroll, unfurling behind Siming.

The text on the scroll is written by itself:
"On the left is Onikiri, on the right is Doji; with both swords drawn, they slay lives and vanquish gods."

He dictated while writing.

Each word is a symbol made of light and blood.

When the last stroke was made, the scroll tore.

Two knives fell from the text.

One is crimson like a raging flame, the other is blue and cold like frost.

The blades intertwined, reflecting the two poles of heaven and earth.

The air froze instantly.

The scent of perfume powder on Shizuka Gozen was suppressed.

Yu Wuzun's breath hitched, and for the first time, a sense of "danger" surfaced in his heart.

Siming took the two swords, and as the blades sliced ​​through the air, even the sound was cut in two.

He chuckled softly, as if speaking to someone, or perhaps to himself:

"Writing scripts in yellow, weaving destiny with a thousand faces."

And I—write the ending.

The third technique: a true lie.

The Thousand-Faced One turned his mask around, his voice low and trembling with joy: "Master, your lie will surely come true."

Si Ming lowered his head and gently stroked the blade.

“My lie,”

He spoke softly, his eyes shining like stars.
"It is more than just reality—it transcends reality."

At that moment, the air began to burn.

Flames rose from the earth, like a soul pouring out;

All the chessboard squares are lit up;
The mirrored light extended from behind him like wings, layer upon layer, like the spine of a god.

He spread his arms.

The star emblem lit up behind, like the crest of destiny.

"Burning Star - A Deceptive True God".

The air shattered into glass, and shards of light fell.

The pattern on the paper fan in Shizuka Gozen's hand was torn apart by a gust of wind;

The petals beneath Yu Wuzun's feet were forcibly pushed back three feet.

They looked up at the same time, and for the first time, felt a "mockery" surging from the depths of fate.

It's the fear of a god being overturned by a player.

Si Ming slowly raised his twin swords, and lies, like curses, wrapped around the blades.

He exhaled softly, as if reciting the last page of a script:
"Now, I'm going to start lying."

The air is collapsing.

Starlight, like a storm, tears through the night; the God of Fate stands at the center of an illusory chessboard, his two rings intertwined and rotating—

That is the ring of the Thousand Faces and the King in Yellow.

One halo was white, swirling with geometric fragments of light; the other was a deep yellow, like diseased gold, within which floated countless words and incantations.

Countless mysterious symbols emerged from the void: the dice of a gambler of fate, the holy seal of a blood priest, ripples on a mirror lake, the sigh of time veiled in gauze...

These symbols form a “divine record” surrounding the God of Destiny, as if all the cycles he has walked through have overlapped in an instant.

"Falsehood becomes godhood, truth becomes a lie."

The voice of the God of Fate was swallowed up by the starlight.

The mask of the King in Yellow slowly rotated, and a line of text emerged from the faceless face:
"The first to reappear—the gambler of fate."

The dice fell from the sky, and the sound of them hitting the chessboard seemed to strike at the very end of time.

The dice spun rapidly, their afterimages flashing with clues to countless destinies—

When it lands, the pattern of the number "6" lights up.

The Man of a Thousand Faces laughed, his voice like the simultaneous whispers of a thousand hypocrites:
"Three sixes, a leopard, your luck is cheating as always."

The God of Fate drew his sword.

Both swords were drawn simultaneously—Onikiri's fiery red blade on the left, and Dojigiri's icy blue blade on the right.

He didn't shout or move; he simply raised his hand.

First cut
Onikiri swept across, its flames and mirror-like light flashing past Shizugozen's paper fan.

She leaned back slightly, spun her fan, and the blade's energy pierced her body, yet no blood was drawn.

Second cut
The boy cutter countered with a slash, shattering a corner of the armor of the warrior, but leaving no mark.

The battlefield fell silent for a second.

Shizuka Gozen pursed her lips, her smile unchanged: "It's no use."

The Martial Venerable raised his sword, his eyes burning with arrogance: "A sword that doesn't even bleed, who can it slay?"

The God of Fate did not answer.

He simply held the two knives level, their blades clashing.

Fire and ice merged at the point where the blades met, transforming into a wisp of gray light.

"Have you... heard the lament of time?"

The sound was like a sigh, like a curse.

The yellow mist of the King in Yellow spread out, and within it emerged the phantom of "the merciless years veiled in a thin gauze"—

An old, long song echoed in the air:

"You were born before I was born, and I was born after you had grown old. I was born before you were born, and I have grown old while you have not grown old."

The moment the melody began, even the air seemed to wither.

Bluish-gray runes appeared on the blade, a kind of "symbol of time".

With a gentle flick of his wrist, the blades of Onikiri and Dojigiri emitted ash smoke.

The ashes settled on the ground, merging into their shadows.

Shizuka Gozen's brow twitched, and she reached out to touch her cheek—

Icy.

The next moment, a fine crack appeared on her skin.

The cracks spread like a spider web.

The wrinkles on the back of her outstretched hand instantly covered her arm.

Princess Kaguya's light shone down, and the silvery moonlight desperately tried to repair her skin.
But it's too slow.

"Even gods age faster than six times the years."

Si Ming smiled gently.

Princess Kaguya's figure twisted in agony behind her, her silver feather robes slowly peeling away into dust.

Shizuka Gozen wanted to unfurl the scroll again, but found that her hands had already stiffened.

at the same time--

The blood energy beside Yu Wuzun began to collapse.

The demon horn shattered inch by inch, and the blood and fire were extinguished.

That overwhelming, ocean-like momentum is gradually diminishing.

He looked up and roared, "What did you do to me—"

Si Ming's tone was extremely soft, as if he were telling a joke:
"Time, warrior. Your blood is too hot, and too slow to cool."

The rate of degradation unfolds in a way that is visible to the naked eye:

Armor falls off, muscles collapse,
He gradually fell from being a martial god incarnate as an Asura back to being a child.

Finally, the giant sword in his hand was heavier than his body.

The child's hand couldn't grip the knife handle, and he fell to the ground.

Shizuka Gozen's hair was completely white.

Wrinkles cascade down the neck to the collarbone.

She gritted her teeth and used all her strength to make Princess Kaguya's light flow back, but she found—

The light was also aging, like a dying moon.

"Impossible... My Kaguya is immortal..."

Si Ming sheathed his sword and looked up.

The indifferent voice carried a cruel politeness:
"Unless your Kaguya is six times stronger than me."

Otherwise, your reversal will never catch up with my curse.

Princess Kaguya transformed into countless shards of light.
Shizuka Gozen's eye split open.

Her beauty, in the instant she aged, became a curse.

The cry of the Imperial Warrior was like that of a child seeing death for the first time.

In the center of the battlefield, the shadow of the Fate Master solidified into a thin line.
He took a step forward.

"Now, it's your turn—to learn what the cost of time is."

He raised his two swords.

Kaguya fell silent, and the Asura turned to dust.

Shizuka Gozen's domain is collapsing.

The Genji Scroll went out of control, its pages scattering like a torrential rain, each page a dream:

There was her laughter, Kaguya's shadow, and the panting of a man lying in her arms;

But when Si Ming steps into the dream, every step he takes turns turning the dream to ashes.

She was like a torn flower, deathly pale as paper.
Her voice trembled, still struggling: "I... I'm not reconciled... This can't be..."

Princess Kaguya behind her was also crumbling, the moonlight peeling away layer by layer, leaving only the coldness of the night.

Not far away, Yu Wuzun's body, now shrunk to the size of a child, was writhing in the blood.

He still tried to stand up, his hands trembling as he gripped the katana, which was too large for him.

A hoarse roar squeezed out of the child's tender throat:
"Your Highness's divine kingdom... cannot be insulted!"

Si Ming stopped in his tracks.

He looked up, a cruel smile still lingering in his eyes.

“Then I will make your ‘divine kingdom’ collapse from your dreams.”

Final Chapter: All Lies Return to Truth.

The Thousand-Faced One spread his arms, and the mask cracked open with a thousand layers of seams.

The script for The King in Yellow turns the page, the black text flowing like blood, rising against the current.

The "lie" vibrates in the air, rewriting the logic of the world.

The wind blows against the current, the light flows against the current, and dreams turn against reality.

The King in Yellow bowed his head and whispered:

"The lie has come true once again."

From the reversed pages of the dream, Princess Kaguya and Shuten-dōji reappear.

But this time, the light emanating from them wasn't life, but the illusory glow of "lies"—

Kaguya's moonlight is fake, Shuten-dōji's blood flames are fake.

They are the creations of the God of Destiny, the truth He "spoke".

Princess Kaguya lowered her eyes and gently bent down.

That beauty is no longer a temptation, but a ritual.

She held the Imperial Warrior in her paper fan as if she were holding a lamp that was about to go out.

"Go into your dreams, little devil."

Her lips gently touched his forehead.

——Crack.

That was the sound of brittle bone breaking.

Mikoto's head drooped, and blood splattered onto Kaguya's clothes.

Like moonlight dyeing the white snow red.

Shuten-dōji walked over with a maniacal laugh.

He grabbed Shizuka Gozen by the collar and lifted her off the ground.

"Woman, your dreams are so sweet."

He plunged the knife into her heart.

Blood from his heart dripped along the knife into the ghost cup, as red as spring cherry blossoms.

He tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp.

Kaguya's light and Shuten-dōji's blood intertwined in the air.
Like a painting on fire—

"The End of Ukiyo-e".

Shizuka Gozen's lips trembled slightly.

Her eyes went from fear to sorrow, and finally to utter desolation.

"How could the world I... painted... possibly be defeated by you..."

Si Ming stood with his hands behind his back, turned and left, his voice low but clear to every corner:

"The Tale of Genji? It's nothing but a boring book of worldly lies."

The world of the painting collapsed behind him.

Princess Kaguya's phantom dissipated into dust, and Shuten-dōji's laughter was swallowed by the void.

The pages of the dream spontaneously combusted, turning to ashes and scattering.

The air returned to reality, carrying with it both anxiety and silence.

The figure of the Fate Master passed through the lingering dream.
The illusory chessboard slowly closed beneath his feet.

A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth beneath the mask.

"The script of fate is not something you read aloud—it's something I wrote."

The last scraps of paper scattered in the wind and turned to ash on the ground.

The crimson moon of Kaguya was completely extinguished.

Only the figure of the God of Fate stood in the center of the void.
The cold light reflected off the blades of his twin swords, like a page of fate being rewritten.

The floating world paintings are all over,

The person died in the dream.

Your divine kingdom,
It's just ink stains on the paper.

— Ukiyo-e (woodblock prints)

(End of this chapter)