Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 566 Bloodstains as a Lamp

If there are no lights on the road, then your hands will be your lights; if there are no words, then your blood will be your words.

If a name calls to you from the depths, do not turn back, just keep going.

—From *Zi Bu Yu* (The Master Did Not Speak Of), Chapter on Remnants

black.

Only a faint light ahead, like phosphorescence clinging to the darkness, appeared and disappeared intermittently, pointing towards the deeper part of the cave.

Siming crouched low as she walked, her footsteps landing on the damp rock surface, the sound of the water like breathing. Occasionally, silvery-white handprints would flash on either side of the cave walls, then disappear, as if breathing slowly.

He stopped, raised his finger, and gently touched the first handprint.

Ice seeped up from my fingertips.

A silvery-white shadow emerged from the stone wall, as if someone had been pulled back from the depths of memory—a player with an old backpack, looking panicked, turned around and saw something.

He opened his mouth and shouted something, but no sound came out.

The next instant, his body twisted, as if struck from the side by an invisible force. His chest caved in, his knees buckled, and he collapsed at Siming's feet—the silver light dissipated, leaving nothing behind.

“The dead cannot speak,” Si Ming whispered, “but their actions are more honest than those of the living.”

A tingling, needle-like sensation came from the back of his head, as if someone had pricked the back of his neck with an extremely fine needle.

He blinked, and a snowflake-like disturbance flashed across the edge of his vision on the chessboard of fate before quickly returning to silence.

The light ahead flickered, as if urging him to continue.

He crept deeper into the narrow passage. The second silvery handprint was stuck in a concave rock cavity, like a hand gripping the wall before death.

Touch it. The chill returns.

This time, what appeared was a high-ranking Star Calamity figure draped in a tattered cloak. His eyes were bloodshot, and his palms formed a seal, instantly unfurling a semi-transparent "protective membrane"—the Calamity Domain.

He swung his arm sharply to the left front, as if fighting against something invisible.

Space creased, the protective membrane was squeezed indented by some force, and the next second, the entire disaster area cracked like glass.

Star Calamity took a deep breath, his body rising half an inch higher, and a blazing white flame erupted from his back—the Star Burning.
Before he could even throw a punch, an invisible thin line swept across his neck, his head slowly tilted a few degrees, his body knelt down first, and then he fell forward.

The silver light shattered, and the shadow vanished.

Si Ming raised his hand and rubbed his temples.

The needle pierced deeper, like a small cluster of electric sparks exploding under the skin. He deliberately suppressed his breathing, but his pace did not slow down.

The cave narrowed as they went deeper, the rock walls pressing against them like a wet throat, only to suddenly release them in the next instant. The third handprint was on the lintel of a narrow doorway, the fingers crooked and uneven, as if hastily made before death.

Touch. A chill crept in.

This time, two Star Calamities appeared side by side, each bearing a different team emblem on their chest. They exchanged a knowing glance and simultaneously raised their hands.

The man on the left raised his nickel-bone longsword, its blade devoid of light, yet it absorbed the only light around him; the man on the right pressed his palm to the ground, and the rune array vanished in a flash.

In a fleeting, almost imperceptible moment, something invisible swept past them. The knife of the man on the left froze in mid-air, his arm sliding silently down from the elbow; the chest of the man on the right caved inward, as if gripped tightly from within by an unseen hand.

Two shadows knelt down one after the other, still trying to turn back—silently, as if they wanted to say something.

The silvery-white light dispersed, breaking into countless bright spots that were absorbed into the rock crevices.

Si Ming's fingertips twitched, and he withdrew his hand.

The numbness and pain in the back of his neck felt like a fine needle piercing his bones. The chessboard of fate once again showed snowflakes, stripes, and trembling waves. He slowly exhaled, suppressing the slightly rapid rise and fall of his chest.

The cave was very quiet. So quiet that you could hear the sound of clothes rubbing together.

Only that phosphorescent light flickered ahead, like a hand beckoning him around the corner—come here.

He didn't look back.

The back of my hand brushed against the rough rock, the lines of my palm cold. The walls on either side undulated in the distance, the intermittently bright and dim silvery-white handprints like someone pressing one by one onto the dark starry sky.

It's like the corpse of a star.

The fourth handprint flashed briefly before disappearing again.

Si Ming stopped, glanced at his fingertips, and continued reaching out.

A cold wave surged up from under the skin, and ghostly images surged out simultaneously like a tide; this time, it wasn't just one person.

A small group of players, their formation disordered, retreated wearily and cautiously along the cave wall. Someone turned back and waved, mouthing "Hurry up!"
Someone used their arm to shield their companion;
The person at the back of the line stopped, clenched their fist tightly, and a faint light emanated from their palm, as if they were unsealing some kind of trump card.

Their mouths were moving, but they made no sound.

Si Ming held his breath, watching them pass in his direction, like wind passing through a lamp, like water passing through a shadow.

The shadowy figures suddenly paused, as if they had been seen by something at the same time.
The abdomen of the team member at the front bulged out in a strange arc, and the next instant, a thin tentacle emerged from his back and trembled slightly in the air.

The tentacles had no color, only a twisted texture, like a stroke in the black mist.

The team member's body was pulled, and he was dragged back like a strip of cloth, disappearing into the unseen fog.

The image shattered into snow.

The pricking sensation exploded along his spine, and Si Ming clung to the cave wall. His fingertips touched the stone surface, and the coolness helped him regain some breathing.

The phosphorescent light ahead flickered, like a heartbeat.

He continued walking.

He crossed the second and third narrow gates one by one. Suddenly, the cave expanded after a certain corner. The darkness above, like the sky, pressed down, but was reflected back by some fragmented light—in the distance, it looked like there was water.

The fifth handprint quietly lit up next to a stalagmite.

The God of Fate stood still.

He lowered his head and gently placed his hand on it.

The chill is coming on slower this time, like snow melting.

Many shadowy figures lit up at the same time, stood in a fan-shaped formation, back to back, and silently chanted slogans.

What lies before them, the God of Fate cannot see.

Behind them stood a girl with dreadlocks, arms crossed, chin raised, and a faint smile playing on her lips.

The moment she looked up, she seemed to see him; her gaze passed over all the shadows and landed on Si Ming.

Her lips moved slightly twice.

No sound.

Si Ming blinked.

My fingertips are so cold they hurt.

The faint light ahead suddenly receded, as if retreating into deeper darkness. The cave seemed to stretch out in the distance with each breath, and his steps moved forward accordingly.

There was the sound of water in the darkness.

The silver handprints lit up one by one as he passed by, then went out behind him, as if someone was clearing the way for him in the darkness.

He didn't look back.

It's just a little faster.

The light ahead grew brighter and brighter.

Like a candle flame that is breathing.

Si Ming passed through the last narrow crevice, and the world suddenly opened up. He entered a natural cave. The cave ceiling was so high that he couldn't see the end, and mist hung in the air, carrying a faint phosphorescent glow.

A strange, sweet, and fishy smell filled the air, like some ancient blood and dream mingling together. In the center of the cave, a stone pillar stood tall, its surface covered with layers of silvery-white and blood-red handprints.

The handprints intertwined, as if a contest between two wills: the silver-white handprints were trying to bring peace to everything, while the blood-red handprints were struggling desperately, yearning to be remembered.

Two characters are engraved on the pillar: Tai Guang.

Si Ming stopped in his tracks.

He stared at the stone pillar in silence for a long while before raising his hand and gently placing his fingertips on it.

In an instant, a chilling current rushed down my arm and into my body.

Before he could react, he was pulled into a storm of consciousness.

Darkness rolled in, and light flickered erratically.

Countless fragmented images, sounds, and words surged in from all directions simultaneously.

Si Ming heard a familiar and long-lost voice.

The voice seemed to resonate deep within his heart, or it seemed to travel through countless layers of data walls, coming from a distant era.

"My name is Shangguan Xi."

If you can touch this handprint, please give it to the Lord of Destiny.

Lu... I'm sorry.

I failed.

I couldn't wait for you to come back.

The Primal discovered my hiding place, and my assembled forces were wiped out overnight.

I thought I could hold out until you woke up.

I thought that if I could just sing one more song and rewrite one more rule, I could bring the world back a little bit.

I'm wrong.

If you're still here, if you can hear me.

Please end it for me, for us.

I've been playing this game for far too long.

Humanity needs to wake up from this nightmare, Lu.

I will wait for you here until I am deleted.

However, you can't delete everything; there will always be a small piece left.

Just like the candy I love hiding in your coat pocket.

Don't forget to take it.

And don't forget to go home.

"Xi!"

Si Ming suddenly opened his eyes.

The light in the cave gradually dimmed, replaced by a stardust-like glow that peeled off the surface of the stone pillars.

The light transformed into countless specks of dust, which coalesced in the air to form a blurry human figure.

That's her.

Dreadlocks, a T-shirt, and those eyes that were so bright they seemed to sparkle.

She looked at him with a smile, the curve of her lips exactly the same.

But she made no sound.

Si Ming reached out his hand, wanting to touch her.

My fingertips brushed against the air, and there was nothing there.

It was just a fragment of consciousness, a dream left behind by fate.

“I’ve lost you in writing,” he whispered. “I’m going to write you back.”

He raised his hand and summoned the secrets of fate.

The Thousand Faces appeared in his palm, silver patterns shimmering on his skin like fine ink rewriting the world.

"In the name of the Lord of Destiny,"

He murmured softly,
“I give you a new shell—a ‘container’ that can hide from the primordial eye.”

As the light intertwined, his fingers traced the shapes of words in the air:

【Dawn·Segment-01】

The girl with dreadlocks trembled, as if awakened by that name.

She lowered her head and smiled softly. The smile was small but genuine, like a piece of candy dropped into water, dissolving and blending in.

Stardust flowed from her body and landed on Siming's eyelashes.

He looked up and watched her image fade away little by little, leaving only a faint light slowly swirling in the air.

Stardust scattered at his feet, like snow that was too late.

He leaned down and whispered:

"Wait for me, little girl. I will take you back."

Then he stood up and looked down into the deepest part of the cave.

The darkness there is breathing.

Something enormous is slowly awakening beneath the abyss.

The air grew heavy, as if a door was shaking underground.

Si Ming closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The chessboard of fate reappeared, and his eyes regained their composure.

"Taotie, we will wake up. Hang in there."

The stone pillar was completely reduced to powder and scattered by the wind.

The light in the cave went out, leaving only a faint beam of light hanging in the air, like a small lamp.

That was Shangguan Xi's "name," and also the light she left behind.

Si Ming turned and walked into the darkness.

Behind him, a roar came from the depths of the dark domain.

Like a door being pushed open from the other side by something.

The name calls the soul back, the lamp guides the way.

When a dream swallows a person, the person learns to spit it out.

—From *Zi Bu Yu* (The Master Did Not Speak Of), Chapter on Dreams of Returning Home

(End of this chapter)