Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 126: The Return of the Whale Tomb
"Listen, the elegy from the depths of the sea of ​​dreams, that is the last cry of the great whale."

The Whale Fall Channel was shrouded in blood mist, wind and fire entangled at the end of the battle line, and the sea water was boiling like purgatory.

And in the gray haze of this doomsday battlefield, a shadow of shattered reality slowly emerged.

That's the Lost.

The masts were like the bones of nightmares, the sails billowed like wounds from the tide, and the entire warship seemed to have been torn from the underworld.

It doesn't belong to the sea, nor to reality - but for some people, it comes to the world again.

It carries the whisper of the deep sea, like a sharp blade, slashing into the battle.

At that time, the Crown had been surrounded by four ships of the Sleeping Fleet, its hull was damaged and its deck was engulfed in flames.

Alfred knelt on the side of the bridge, covered in blood, his fingers clutching the railing tightly.
Blood dripped from the back of his hand, staining the charred royal emblem flag below the bridge red.

Every time the enemy's artillery shells landed, it felt like a blow on his chest. He gritted his teeth and murmured:
"Everyone—fight to the last man."

He didn't wait for a miracle.

But a miracle happened.

The next moment, a gray fog rolled up from the horizon, tearing through time and vision like a silhouette.

Penetrating the flank of the enemy ship—the Lost One, suddenly appeared from the unreality!

boom! !

The first volley was like a ghostly storm, and the roaring cannons cut the enemy ship's mast in half.

The chain bullet penetrated the belly of the ship, exploding into a vortex of black flames, and the entire enemy ship instantly exploded into a cloud of fire.

"The Lost?!" Alfred's pupils shrank, and shock, confusion, and - a trace of almost buried belief appeared in his eyes.

"You...actually turned back?"

He was responded to by a warship that jumped out from the starboard side of the Lost.

Several ghost crew members rushed into the deck of the enemy ship silently like hounds out of a cage, covered in gray mist and holding mysterious long blades, cutting through the enemy's battle line.

They are silent and bloodless, yet they kill at every step, like vengeful spirits awakened by the flames of war.

Alison stood on the bridge of the Lost, her blonde hair dancing wildly, her eyes as cold as ice blades.
His eyes passed through the flames of war and the wreckage, staring directly at the nearly collapsed Crown.

"I said, I don't believe in abandonment."

Her voice pierced the storm like thunder and struck Alfred's ears.

Lilia stood beside her, her eyes reflecting the huge black shadow approaching in the fog in the distance.

She whispered:

"The Whale Grave...is approaching."

As soon as he finished speaking, an indescribable pressure suddenly came down like a tide.

The wind died. The waves stilled. The entire waterway seemed to be strangled.

A shadow larger than any ship tore through the thick fog and emerged from between the sky and the sea.

Whale Tomb, appeared.

It is no longer a ship.

It was a city, a cemetery, a throne of remains that emerged from a dream.

On the deck, temples made of whale bones are stacked up layer by layer, like the ruins of gods.

Countless souls walked in formation amidst the sea fog, humming the same song. Their voices were hollow, yet they echoed in a regular pattern.

"The elegy for the whale's grave has begun."

That is not words, it is a spell, it is a law.

Kerkosen's voice descended from the sky, like the master of the entire sea area speaking:
"Listen—the dead return, sailing in dreams."

The sky suddenly darkened, and the sea surface turned a deep blue like the night sky. Faint lights peeked out from beneath the waves - they were hands.

Countless hands stretched out from the sea, like the plea of ​​a drowning person, but also like the pleas of a stubborn dead soul.

They quietly clung to the hulls of the Crown and the Lost, crawling upwards slowly but steadily.

Siming gripped the railing tightly, his brow furrowed. "...It's the domain."

"The realm of the Whale Grave Elegy has unfolded."

Domain Effect: [Slumber Realm]——

On the Crown, the first sailor paused and his eyes suddenly became distracted.

He wiped his forehead, his face full of sleepiness: "Captain... I'm so sleepy..."

Before Avina could respond, he collapsed on the deck.

The second, the third... On the entire deck, soldiers, gunners, and sailors were slowly swallowed by a nightmare, and one after another, they fainted.

They murmured meaningless words:
"Why are we fighting... Can we... stop for a moment..."

Avina's face changed, and she turned around and shouted: "Hey! What are you talking about? You——"

Before she could finish her words, the fourth sailor fell at her feet.

Under the domain, all those whose wills are not strong enough are falling into a deep sleep.

The elegy of the Whale Grave, like an invisible tide, quietly and thoroughly wipes out the consciousness of war, leaving only the peace of the sleepers.

Peace is the knock on the door to death.

The true story of the Battle of the Whale Tomb finally began. It was as if an invisible melody was playing quietly over the Whale Tomb, a mournful song that only the dead could understand.
It penetrates the nerves and slowly eats away at the mind, like dragging the entire battlefield into a silent grave at the bottom of the deep sea.

At this moment, the voice sounded again - but it no longer belonged to Kerkosen.

"Heretics..."

Deep as the tide, cold as the rising tombstone, no anger in the tone,
There was no mockery, only the cold judgment of a superior and destined winner.

"You refuse to sleep?"

The sound was like the brush of whale bones against one's face, accompanied by a figure slowly emerging from the vortex above the Whale Tomb.

His dark blue robe fluttered silently in the sea breeze, and his face was almost swallowed by the mist.

Only those eyes that pierced the soul remained, penetrating through the arrays of the Lost and the Crown and projecting down.

——Nasir Krosa, the "Blue Archon".

The ruler of the Sleeping Church and the spokesperson for the will of the Whale Tomb faith.

"In that case, then... let me show you what 'inescapable fate' means."

He raised his right hand, and a mysterious blue card burned in his palm, causing the sea surface to shake.

"Whale Grave Ring."

The domain of the Whale Tomb Elegy expanded again, and layers of pale blue halos appeared on the sea surface, like ripples on the water where reality and dreams overlapped.

Circles spread across the entire battlefield, as if there were invisible vortexes that were pulling all existence into the deep sea.

The first abnormality appeared on the Lost.

"Report, Captain... Our coordinates are starting to drift—"

"The compass is failing! The wind sense is gone, the depth finder is failing—we are… drifting away from reality!"

A sailsman knelt on the ground with a pale face, and almost used up all his strength to make his voice penetrate the cabin.

"We're...locked in his dream!"

The deck vibrated like waves, the mast swayed slightly, as if the entire ship would sink to the bottom of the nightmare sea at any moment.

Alison gritted her teeth, turned around and shouted:

"Hold your ground! Rex, assist Calvino in correcting the course! Everyone, stand by!"

Rex had already jumped to the top of the observation tower, and the mysterious stars in his eyes were spinning wildly.

His voice was low, "I can see the pattern, I'm analyzing it... Give me a moment!"

Meanwhile, the atmosphere on the Crown grew more tense.

Alfred bit his lower lip tightly and grasped the steering wheel with one hand.
He growled word by word, "Everyone, listen up! No matter what you see or feel...maintain suppressive fire!"

He glanced back at the still-burning deck, looked at the sleepy-looking sailors, and shouted almost in a commanding tone:

"If you are asleep—I will wake you up with my own hands!"

The spell of the Whale's Grave Lament flooded the sea like a tide.

The Whale Tomb is like a temple of gods. What rains down is not artillery fire, but the complete suppression of will.

The domain spread like a cage, and the remnant sound of whale bones roared above every soul.

The Lost and the Crown, like two nails fighting desperately, roared in the storm.

Calvino stood at the podium, looking at the approaching wave of death, and suddenly spoke:
"Alison - The Lost cannot withstand this kind of suppression for long. We need a 'morale burst'."

Alison didn't respond immediately, her hand had already reached into her arms, tightly grasping the crimson card.

The blood-red battle flag fluttered slightly in the wind, and the runes on the card were like burning flames of anger.

She just nodded slightly, her voice low and firm:
"I know."

But she didn't use it.

She knew that Whale Grave Elegy's true murderous intent had not yet been fully revealed.

Sure enough, Nasir's voice drifted from afar again, as if falling into everyone's ears, slowly and ruthlessly destroying hope:

"You are nothing but corrupt people from an old era... There is no point in struggling."

"Sleeping is your only salvation."

Alison slowly looked up.

The wind was as sharp as a knife, blowing up her golden hair and making her cape flutter.

She stood between the fog and death, her voice low and cold as ice.

"Have you ever heard of the oath of fighting to the death?"

She cast a sharp look at Calvino:
"Give me three minutes."

“I will raise that flag.”

Calvino did not hesitate at all and raised the corner of his mouth:
"I'll grab those three minutes for you."

He turned around and gave an order.

The Lost began to regroup, and the entire ship entered the second battle formation!
In the distance, the whale head of the Whale Tomb Fleet was slowly turning towards them, and a life-and-death battle was about to break out.

——The final chapter of the Whale Tomb Elegy is about to be played.

(End of this chapter)