Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 125: Oath in the Mist

Chapter 125: Oath in the Mist
"A true companion is not someone who sets out with you, but someone who turns back for you when the wind blows."

The Whale Falls channel was still shaking, blood and fire intertwined into a purgatory, with thick fog like tides and flames like torches.

The holy land that originally belonged to the sleepers has now been torn into a Shura field of chaotic troops.

The Lost One was speeding through the waves, the masts rustling, and the mainsail had been torn into a bloody hole by the gunfire.
It was like a wounded sea hound that refused to stop, roaring and running angrily.

The ship brushed past the wreckage of a sinking ship, the flames engulfing the ship's shadow, and the sound of cracking wooden boards sounded like the desperate howl of the dead.

Rex jumped down from the watchtower, his armored boots landing on the ground like an eagle skimming off a rock. He held the railing with one hand, his face as gloomy as lead.

"The Crown, something's happened."

His voice was low and cold. "The East Wing is surrounded by the Sleeping Fleet. They are resisting... but they won't hold out for long."

Alison's face changed drastically, and before she could say anything, she had already received the secret message.

Gray whispering elves emerged like a tide, and a familiar hoarse male voice came intermittently from the wind:

"Your Excellency the Commander... please continue on with the Lost."

"Crown... there's no need to slow you down."

That was Alfred. His voice was still steady, but each syllable was laced with a subtle crack, like a will that had lost too much blood and was struggling to maintain its dignity.

"I once said that I would carve a bloody path for you..."

"Now, it's my turn to cover the rear."

The secret message was cut off, and the wind blew past, as if blowing away the last trace of sound waves in the fog.

Alison stood on the bridge, her face expressionless but her eyes gleamed coldly.

Her knuckles trembled slightly, and the next second, she turned abruptly with a crisp step. With a flip of her hand, she pulled out a black and gold card. The card was engraved with the sharp royal emblem, and a gray light emerged like a ghostly fire.

"Doomsday Royal" was once her secret card, but now it is a legacy of war sleeping outside her life pattern.

Although it has not been bound as an official secret and its usage time is limited, ten minutes is enough for her to fight back.

Lilia recognized the card at a glance, and her heart seemed to be suddenly grasped by someone. She was horrified and angry: "What are you going to do?"

Alison's voice was as cold as an iron blade cutting through ice: "I don't believe in abandonment."

She stepped toward the starboard side, the deck trembling. She raised her hand and held up the card, the shards of nightmare gold dancing between her fingers.

It was as if a raging fire was burning on the bottom of the sea, about to summon the legendary doomsday battleship.

"Are you crazy?!" Lilia finally rushed up and grabbed her wrist.

"Alison, that was a single-ship assault! Do you want to die with him?"

"I believe he's alive." Alison's eyes were like piercing nails. "I also believe I can save him."

Her voice was not high-pitched, but it was heavier than the waves.

"The Doomsday Royal is not meant to scare people."

The next second, a hand slowly fell on her shoulder, the force was not strong, but extremely firm.

Calvino.

He remained calm as usual, his cloak fluttering slightly, and there was no anger on his face, but his eyes seemed to contain a gathering storm.

"Put it down," he said, his voice so calm it was almost ritualistic.

"This is not your war—at least, not yours alone."

Alison turned abruptly, her voice sharp and bloody, "So you want me to stand there and watch them die?"

Calvino smiled gently, a smile that was neither mad nor angry, but concealed the fatigue and pride that came from countless trials and tribulations.

"I said, the Lost, never abandon your companions."

He slowly took out a piece of nightmare gold from his cloak. The golden pattern on his palm danced like the setting sun on the sea with blood falling.

"But you know..."

"What is the true power of the Lost?"

He slowly stretched out his right arm, and his sleeve fell, revealing a cracked star map of his destiny. Six stars of reason lay dormant on his wrist, as silent as stars falling into the deep sea.

"This ship...is no longer the ship you see."

His voice became low, like an echo from the sea. He began to chant a ritual:

"Nightmares whisper, tides guide."

"Lost sea souls—return to the broken boat."

In an instant, the six rational star maps shone together, and the faint light rose from the bottom of the deck like a volcanic eruption.

Waves of nightmares rose up, penetrating the deck, the ridge, the gun positions, and the masts, and the gray fog poured over the entire ship like a tide.

The entire hull of the Lost was shaking violently, as if it was undergoing some kind of shelling and reincarnation.

Faint patterns appeared in the sails and rigging, and the outline of the ship blurred and disappeared in the light mist.

The bones of wood and iron were gradually being recast by unknown sea spirits, and even the air was filled with inaudible chanting.

Lilia muttered, taking a step back, as if realizing something: "...He activated the Lost One's mysterious form."

Siming stood at the other end of the deck, squinting his eyes. He could feel,

An ancient, barbaric, yet almost holy force surged within the ship and was slowly "awakening" from within the hull.

He whispered to himself, "This ship... is not ordinary."

The fog still swirls above the whale-fall channel.

But the Lost One was transforming from an ordinary ship into a miracle. "Is this... the Lost One?"

Siming spoke in a low voice, and the words seemed to be accompanied by a stagnant breath.

The warship before him was no longer what it was when they boarded. The entire ship seemed to have been pulled out of reality, shrouded in gray fog and with blurred lines, as if it was caught between two worlds.

Lilia nodded, her voice so low it felt like moist mist caressing her ears.

"It's not just any pirate ship," she said. "It's part of a World Secret Card."

Her eyes revealed a complex range of emotions in the dim light—awe, surprise, and a hint of indescribable fear.

"High-level world-type secret card."

She exhaled, as if declaring the god's true name:
“No. 29, Ghost Ship series.

"Fictitious name: 'The Lost One Who Forgot His Past'."

Ten stars.

Siming's eyes suddenly became stern.

Lilia continued to read out the card entries, her voice almost ritualistic:

"Card Type: World Series, Ghost Ship Series."

"Owner: Calvino."

"Special Mechanism: Nightmare Gold can be used instead of Sanity Stars to maintain secret operations."

"You can gain domain amplification in the Sea of Dreams and the Dark Sea Passage."

"Ghost Crew members cannot be destroyed by conventional attacks, only special secret abilities or rules are effective."

"Legacy entry—'Ship Voice Summons: The Lost One'."

Her eyes turned to Calvino at the front of the deck, his back standing like a sculpture in the gray fog.

"When the captain speaks the ship language in any sea area—"

"Nightmares whisper, the tides guide, lost sea souls, return to the broken boat."

"The Lost will arrive and become his personal warship."

“The entire ship itself is a mobile domain.”

She paused, her fingertips slowly sliding over the deck railing, muttering the true core.

"Rule One: Ghost Crew - Lost."

"This ship will summon the 'lost' crew - they are not real people, but souls once forgotten by the sea, the afterimages of war, and the extension of Calvino's will."

"They will not rebel, they will not tire, they will not die."

Siming was stunned for a moment, and whispered: "...like a cursed loyalty."

Lilia did not deny it, but continued:
"Rule Two: The Ship's Secret Form: The Lost Magic Ship."

"Unlock the Lost's true form - the Trek State."

"It will release a gray fog in a ten-meter area, then completely disappear from all sight, detection, radar, and secret perception."

She slowly turned to Siming, her voice colder than the wind: "Including its captain himself."

"Rule Three: Shadow Flickering, Unrealistic Navigation."

"Every time the Lost reappears, it automatically enters a 'state of unreality'—unable to be attacked, and unable to attack. It exists on the 'backside' of the world, like a brief illusion."

"Fifteen seconds later, it regained its physical form and joined the battle."

Siming seemed to be struck by some concept and exhaled softly: "This ship...is not sailing on the sea."

Lilia shook her head slightly, a rare look of awe in her eyes.

"It's sailing in 'unreality'."

"It does not belong to this world, but drifts in the paths of nightmares."

She paused and pointed at the hull that was gradually twisting into an irregular curve.

"It never existed in anyone's eyes."

"It has never belonged to any country, faction, or even god."

"It is the ghost of a fleet—and here we are, on its deck."

Siming looked up suddenly.

At that moment, the gray fog suddenly tightened, like a tide engulfing the entire ship.

The nightmare gold exploded in Calvino's palm, emitting the last ray of light.