Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 129 Death Battle Gambling
"Only those who dare to put their fate on the gambling table are worthy of being fate's opponent."

The deep sea's faint sound slowly rises, and the whale's grave mourns against the gray-blue sky.
Kerkosen's voice seemed to emerge from beneath the tide, echoing low and resonating like a god's wrath, piercing the periosteum of the soul:

"Who do you think you are? You are nothing but slaves destined to be yourselves. Slaves have no right to negotiate gambling with their masters."

As soon as these words came out, all the crew members of the Whale Grave Fleet felt their chests tighten at the same time.
My heart was beating like a drum, and it felt like a heavy bell was ringing in my mind.

The dormant bells quietly rang again, as if to pull the entire battlefield into a sacred and cold dream.

The waves roll in an astonishingly consistent rhythm, and the sound of the tide is like a spell.

But at this moment, on the bridge of the Lost, Sima Ming smiled.

It was a smile that was almost blasphemous, gently raised, but like a needle piercing a whale's bone, piercing the majesty of the sea god.

He stood in the gray wind, his black hair flying, his destiny pattern and star map shining like stars, and his smile was like a white blade piercing the night.

"Not qualified?"

Siming repeated Kerkosen's verdict in a low voice, with a hint of sarcasm in the corner of his eyes.
"No, no, no, Mr. Kerkoson—from the moment I put my hand into your territory, the rules are no longer yours to decide."

He raised his arm, and the Supreme Mystical Card "Lord of Destiny" slowly spun between his fingers.

The pitch-black card surface was shimmering with tiny streams of blood-gold light, like an eye peeping into everything, suddenly blooming in the Wind Whispering Domain.

"Lord of the Whale Tomb—"

Sima Ming's voice was amplified to a soul-shattering degree through the secret language field constructed by Lilia, and it penetrated like a nail into the eardrums and souls of all the crew members of the Whale Grave Fleet:
"Why don't you take a good look at your card... Do you remember the third rule you wrote for it yourself?"

He paused, his tone like a fine needle plucking through the rotten cloth of silence:
"Read it, Lord Kerkosen, and see if it is as glorious and spotless as you remember it."

The brief silence was like the bottom of an abyss.

In front of the main ship, the Whale Grave, Kerkosen suddenly opened his eyes.

He lowered his head, and the old and majestic Whale Grave Elegy card in his palm was emitting a glimmer that had never been seen before.
Words appeared, lines of dark blue characters were so clear that they looked as if they had just been carved.

His pupils shrank slightly.

No—that’s not the version he wrote.

[Rule Three: Guests have the right to challenge the Whale Tomb's owner to a deathmatch bet and pay a corresponding price. The owner cannot refuse.]

Kerkosen murmured in a low, hoarse voice:

"How can this be?"

A leisurely voice came from the fog on the starboard side, with undisguised admiration:
"I'm afraid this is the power of the Supreme Being, the Weaver of Fate."

The dice spun gently between his fingers, and Lorient's face emerged from the sea mist, his eyes as if he was watching the climax of a gambling game.

He leaned against the railing, his eyes full of interest.

"Indeed... He is more like a true 'master' than our Lord Faceless."

He paused, raised his eyes slightly, and lowered his voice with a hint of cunning:
"But, Captain—that guy has now used up all his stars of reason. Now may be the best time for us to seize supreme authority."

On the bow of the Whale Grave, Kerkosen was silent for a few breaths, and then suddenly laughed.

His laughter rose like a tsunami, shaking the mist and causing whale bones to resonate. He slowly raised his hand, his cape fluttering, and his eyes were as sharp as a blade:
"Excellent bet, guest—I grant you your credentials."

He spread his hands, like a king making a grand opening, announcing the advent of an epic event:

"The game is up to you."

"And the rules of the game—I'll decide them."

On top of the Whale Tomb, in the dark blue sea mist, Nasir slowly raised his arms, and his cloak fluttered.

With a low shout from him, a whale bone battle flag burning with dark blue flames slowly rose up and pierced the sky!

That was the battle flag of the Lord of the Whale Tomb, symbolizing the sentence of death and also heralding an unprecedented gamble.

Nasir's voice was not loud, but it seemed to rise from the deep sea, shaking the entire battlefield:
"The Whale Tomb Gambling Game—Officially Opens!"

Instantly, the entire Sleeping Fleet fell silent, the masts of all the warships bowing to the flag, like a group of martyrs obeying the gods' command. The next moment, Kerkosen's figure appeared like a phantom on the deck of the Whale Grave, the main ship.

His steps were as steady as a bell, but his voice was like thunder, with the low, cruel sound of a whale's bone breaking:
"We will—fight to the death according to the pirate code."

He paused, then slowly raised his right hand, pointing to the battle flag below the Whale Grave, and then to the unyielding Blood George flying high on the Lost in the distance.

"The winner lives, the loser becomes a slave."

"I'm offering a wager—"

"Whoever destroys the Whale Tomb's battle flag will win, and the Whale Tomb fleet will retreat immediately. If the Whale Tomb's power seizes your bloody flag... your entire army will be enslaved and sleep for a hundred years!"

He stared at Siming with scorching eyes, as if he wanted to burn the other person's soul to ashes.

"Si Ming—you, do you want to bet?"

At this moment, the sea was eerily calm.

The wind stopped.

The fog had settled. The sailors and commanders of the dozens of ships in the Whale Grave Fleet all turned their gazes to the lone figure who had yet to respond—Si Ming aboard the Lost One.

His eyes slowly swept over his companions.

Alison wiped the command knife with one hand, the blade reflected the afterimage of the bloody battle flag, and a smile with fighting spirit on the corner of her mouth.

Baroque licked his lips, his bestial ecstasy visible between his teeth: "Haha... Come on!"

Ian didn't say anything, but the Wind Whispering Ring had already returned to his fingertips, and its light danced like the wind breathing.

Rex sat lazily on the edge of the watchtower, whistling, one foot on the deck railing, but his expression was extremely clear-headed.

Calvino stood firmly at the bow, like an anchor nailed into fate, with no hesitation on his face.

Lilia held the wind rudder, her knuckles turned white, but the fire of war was burning in her eyes like a tide.

These are a group of lunatics whose memories are incomplete.

But they are not afraid of fate.

Siming chuckled, the sound mixed with wind, fire and heartbeat:
"...What a gamble."

At this moment, Alison suddenly turned around and nodded firmly to Lilia.

The latter immediately released the whisper elves and constructed a domain channel.

Her voice, through the gray fog, whispers, and distance, reached the Crown's command room—like a spark falling into scorched earth:

"Commander, fight to the death—only by fighting to the death can we achieve glory."

On the Crown, Alfred stood up upon hearing the sound, drew his sword and pointed it at the Whale Grave!

"Crown, everyone, enter the Blood George field!"

"I will never give up!"

His voice was like a blade cutting through water, and in an instant, the entire Crown was boiling!

The fighting spirit seemed to be contagious, and the other pirate warships remaining in the Whale Fall Channel were
After a few moments of silence, they raised their battle flags one after another, responding to this invitation to fight that was enough to burn their souls.

They once bowed their heads before the elegy of the whale's grave, but now they have regained their pride because of this bloody flag.

Even if the enemy is Kerkosen, they are willing to bet everything!
Sima Ming turned around and looked at Calvino.

The latter grinned and said in a voice as deep as artillery fire:
"Si Ming, let's engage in battle—let's have a good fight with the Whale Tomb."

Sima Ming nodded slightly, his black hair flying, and the card of the Lord of Destiny was raised high, as if lighting up the entire sky in the wind and light.

"What are you waiting for?"

“This time—we’re all in!!”

The naval battle drums sound and the battle flags rise!
The gamble of fate, the battle to the death, officially begins!
(End of this chapter)