Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 134 Blood Queen
"The dice of fate will eventually come to rest."

"True judgment comes from blood and fangs."

The aftermath of the shattering of the Sleeping Bell still echoed in Lorient's ears, like some invisible alarm bell, ringing a warning on the dice of fate.

He slowly raised his head and watched Nasir's falling figure collapse like a phantom at the edge of the realm, turning into a broken divine ring.

The sea surface, which was originally as blue as a dream, was now being eaten away by the crimson waves.

That was the will of the fighters under Bloody George, like a blade slicing through the throat of the sleeper. The dream was no longer peaceful.

Lorient's smile slowly faded, replaced by an unsettling calm.

"...Alas." He sighed softly, and the dice of fate in his hand stopped spinning, and the black dice surface fell heavily in his palm.

"This isn't good... What a false start."

His tone remained relaxed, but a hint of excitement flashed in his eyes, like a gambler who sensed a second round of chips in a losing game.

He slowly knelt down and placed his hands on the remaining wreckage of Nasir's rules. The dormant runes that had not yet dissipated were like ashes in the dim light, pulsating with the last remnant warmth of divinity.

"However, the bet...is not over yet."

He pulled out a card hidden in his sleeve.

No.777 Destiny Series: Final Dice
Secret Entry: Leopard Dice – If three dice have the same value, you can reconstruct the outcome of future events.

Three pitch-black dice spun in his palm, and a mysterious purple light shone through the runes, dancing like stars.

"Dice of fate, obey my command."

"Bet Nasir—reroll the rolls and reverse the outcome."

Just as he was chanting the last line, a voice interrupted him -

"You want the dead to speak?"

The voice was lazily ironic, like the third-to-last drumbeat that disrupted the order of the theater.

Lorient turned his head and saw Sima Ming staggering towards him, fiddling with the fragments of broken cards with his fingertips, a familiar and annoying smile on his lips.

His face was as pale as paper, his breathing was disordered, and it was obvious that he was even relying on instinct to stand.

But those eyes were brighter than any blade on the battlefield, carrying the light of a gambler's last-minute comeback.

"You said 'the game isn't over yet' just now." He chuckled, "But unfortunately, today—you won't have a second chance to roll the dice."

Lorient tilted his head, his eyes still calm: "Oh?"

Sima Ming did not answer, but looked at the girl beside him who was as quiet as a statue.

She has pale skin, scarlet pupils, and long hair like a sea of ​​blood dancing in the wind. She is the sleeping hunting queen and the last princess of the vampire clan.

——Celian.

"Celian." Siming called softly.

"Now, it's time for you to stretch your muscles."

The girl raised her head, her eyes slowly focused, and an elegant yet cold curve passed across the corners of her lips.

"Finally?" she snorted. "I thought you wanted to keep me locked in this stupid spell forever."

Sima Ming smiled helplessly and took out a small bottle engraved with red and gold runes from his arms. The blood in the bottle had a strange luster.

"Embracing Embers."

He uncorked the bottle and drank the liquid in one gulp.

In an instant, his consciousness was torn apart by the heat, and an entire star of reason turned into a blazing flame and went out in his sea of ​​consciousness.

He bit his palm, and blood flowed down his palm and spilled onto the card that had been sealed for a long time.

"With my blood, I will awaken the hunters sleeping in the night."

"Unsealing the contract—my servant, High-ranking Life System No. 1049, Wild Hunt Blood Devourer, Princess Celian, has awakened."

The runes rose like red flames, rising from Celian's feet, wrapping around her limbs, spine and heart, and infusing into every inch of blood in her body.

There was a "click", like a broken bone or a scepter falling to the ground. The cracks spread along her collarbone to her arms, and the temperature of the entire deck seemed to drop sharply to freezing point.

The next moment, Celian's figure disappeared from the spot.

A blood shadow broke through the air, interrupting Lorient's unfinished chant.

He had just tossed the dice, the dice surface hadn't yet taken shape, the spell was still on the tip of his tongue—

Snapped! !

An elbow strike, like thunder!
Celian instantly got close to Lorient and threw an elbow as fast as the wind, hitting him in the abdomen and sending him flying several meters. He crashed onto the gambling table like a puppet with its strings cut, and the dice scattered all over the floor.

Blood splattered, staining the deck red.

The rhythm of the battlefield completely shifted from this moment on.

Lorient rolled over and hit the deck hard, and his exquisite black hat flew several meters away.
His body froze, and the surprise on his face quickly turned into gloom.

He stood up awkwardly, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were no longer filled with mockery, but with incredible rage.

"You! You actually possess this kind of monster?!" He gritted his teeth and roared, his voice piercing.
"High-level Life System? Servant Card? No... No, there's no such name in the intelligence!"

He suddenly pressed his hand to his chest, as if he wanted to pull out the intelligence file that he once trusted so much.

"Damn it, damn intelligence officer! You lied to me! You hid the cards for this entire round!"

"Vampire Princess?" He whispered hoarsely, as if biting the words.

"Yes." Siming interrupted him, his voice hoarse but like a nail driven into the deck, "The Princess of the Blood Clan. She comes from the Eternal Night Blood Alliance."

At that moment, the entire dormant chip ship seemed to be dragged into the abyss by these few words. Even the smell of blood in the air suddenly became stronger.

"You want to gamble your life," Siming raised his eyes slightly, staring at Lorient's painful and twisted expression, and said slowly, "Then you must bear the hunter's judgment."

Celian walked slowly towards them, her red eyes like flames, and the aura of a hunter quickly filled the entire deck as she approached.

She said nothing, but walked closer step by step, and the world behind her seemed to be stained with blood bit by bit with her footsteps.

With every step she took, a blurry blood shadow appeared under her feet - like the souls walking out of an ancient battlefield, like the last ceremonial procession before a hunting ceremony.

She stopped five steps away from Lorient, tilted her head slightly, and her red hair danced like flames.

"You want to use dice to decide life and death?" Her voice was very soft, but it was like a poisonous needle falling into the eardrum.

"Then I'll make sure you can't even roll the dice."

The next second, she disappeared.

The blood shadow breaks through the wind, and the hunting light is like flame!

Her figure turned into a scarlet afterimage, and in an instant she appeared in front of Lorient, her claws as sharp as a nighthawk slicing through the sky, heading straight for the throat!

Lorient suddenly turned over, grabbed a dice with his right hand, and screamed on the brink of death: "The dice of fate! I shout - six!"

The dice haven't even landed yet.

Snapped! !

Celia raised her leg and crushed the dice with one foot.

The dice shattered under her feet, along with a trace of the miracle of fate that had not yet taken shape.

"You're too slow."

Her tone was gentle, with a hint of cruel elegance, like the night wind brushing across the carotid artery, making people almost forget that it was a verdict.

Lorient's pupils contracted violently, and the astonishment and anger on his face intertwined in an instant, and then collapsed.

He took several steps back suddenly, but staggered like a gambler with a broken spine.

"I... I can't possibly lose to a beast like you who only knows how to claw and bite... I am the spokesperson for fate and the maker of the rules!"

He roared, his voice like a broken dice cup, filled with humiliation and fear that could not be expressed.

"Yeah." A mocking voice came from above.

Rex had climbed up the broken mast high on the bridge at some point, holding the sniper mount with one hand, half of his face covered in blood and smoke, but a frivolous smile was on the other side.

“That’s why we hate it.”

He whispered, the sniper scope swaying slightly in front of his eyes, locking onto Lorient's final escape route.

"Because people like us who are fate-related, in the end—"

He shrugged and paused.

"No one can defeat those crazy people who use their muscles to crush people."

When Siming heard this, he finally couldn't help laughing and shook his head with a wry smile.

He said nothing, simply watching the bloody shadow shuttle across the deck, like a true hunter, gradually blocking every path for its prey in the corridors of fate. The dice shattered, and the outcome was determined.

This time, Lorient finally understood——

Not all bets offer the opportunity to “re-roll the dice”.

Destiny is a web of choices.

And Celian was cutting them one by one with her own hands.

Phantom fragments of the dice of fate fell on the deck, drenched in crimson, and then gradually disappeared.

As the wind blew, the blood beads rolled, reflecting Lorient's frightened face.

He half-knelt on the ground, his body trembling violently, his face as pale as paper, and his right hand still trembling as he groped for the remaining cards.

He gritted his teeth and growled, cursing a name that no one could understand, while taking out a card from his pocket, like a piece of driftwood that a drowning man desperately grabs.

"You... people who want to challenge fate... you think you can defeat me with just a few lunatics?"

His voice was trembling, and he was on the verge of collapse, but there was still a glimmer of madness burning in his eyes.

He shreds the cards!
Legacy Summoning——Sleeping Dealer·Low Level One Star·Life System.

The fog rolled and phantoms emerged.

Several shadowy figures in tattered gambler's uniforms appeared in front of him, with twisted smiles on their faces like the nightmare of a deceased person before death.

They held dice, chips, and playing cards, and lined up neatly in front of Lorient, like an audience at a death rehearsal.

Then, more legacy cards were activated——

Sleeping gamblers, sleeping pirates, low-level fate and life systems all emerged from the fog.

That was the remnant of the soul that had long been devoured by the gamble, and he used his strange power to drag it back onto the battleship.

They were dressed in tattered armor, their eyes as empty as hourglasses, they understood nothing, just to gamble again - this time, for Lorient's own life.

"Stop her!!" Lorient roared, staggering back and throwing another dice in his hand.

And that red shadow was already standing there quietly.

Celian stopped where she was, her blood-stained cloak dancing in the wind. She narrowed her red eyes, sizing up the group of soldiers in front of her, who were dressed in the corpses of gamblers. The corners of her lips curled up slowly.

"Oh? Trash?"

And then—she moved.

boom!
The first slumbering gambler barely raised his battle axe when a punch sent him flying, his body shattered like rags. The second slumbering pirate was about to draw his sword when a bloody figure spun around behind him, piercing his throat with its claws, sending blood splattering everywhere.

She did not use any cards or vampire skills.

She was just "walking" -

But every step is the pace of the executioner swinging his knife.

Like a red hurricane driven by an ancient will of revenge, she hunted and shuttled among the gamblers, slicing through decks and souls, and playing a symphony of blood and fire in the air.

At this moment, the dice of fate are rolled again!

"Kill them all!" Lorient roared, his eyes bloodshot. "I shout—Four!"

The dice spun rapidly in the air, and purple light burst out—

But just before the spell was uttered, Celian moved.

She looked up and her figure flashed.

Snapped!
Put two fingers together, like a knife cutting through the air, and firmly hold the dice before it falls to the ground.

She smiled coldly.

"You're too slow, gambler."

She clenched her five fingers together, and the dice made a desperate sound in her palm, exploding inch by inch, destroying the glimmer of hope given by fate.

She looked down at the remaining souls of gamblers at her feet, her tone becoming increasingly cold.

"Using these toys to stall for time?"

"You think I'm going to rehearse a failed play with them before hunting you down?"

The bloody claws scratched the air, making a sound like tearing silk.

The next moment, blood flashed!
All that was left on the entire deck were bloody streaks and the aftermath of a pile of corpses that had collapsed.

In less than ten seconds, all summoned creatures disintegrated, and not even the echo of their souls remained.

Only Lorient was left standing, alone.

He trembled, swaying. He could no longer hold the dice, and the cards slipped from his fingers like broken leaves, falling into the pool of blood on the deck, floating up and down.

Siming stood quietly not far away, without moving, just watching.

"I wanted to give you a chance to live," he said in a calm voice. "If you're willing to keep your mouth shut, you might be able to survive."

"But you chose to gamble."

Rex whistled from the distant sniper post, his voice filled with vicious sarcasm.

"Madman. There are no normal people in the Fate Department."

Celian glanced back at him, her bloodshot eyes cold.

"You guys in the Fate Department...are you all so annoying?"

Rex shrugged and spread his hands.

“Basically.”

The next second, she appeared in front of Lorient.

At that moment, Lorient finally woke up and raised his hand, trying to summon the last card.

However, a hand had already firmly grasped his throat, pinning him to the side of the ship.

His feet were off the ground, his whole body was twitching, blood flowed from between his fingers, dripping onto the deck and merging into the land of gambling that he had paved with his own hands.

He was still struggling, his lips opening and closing, trying to utter a final spell, a bet, or a vicious curse.

But Celia didn't give him a chance.

She lowered her head and gently licked the blood oozing from the side of his neck.

Then, his brows furrowed slightly.

"It tastes bad."

"It smells like a gambler."

She loosened her grip and threw him to Siming's feet like a rag doll.

"Master." She turned her head, her tone cold and tired, "I don't like it here."

"The blood here is too dirty, and the taste of fate is too disgusting."

Sima Ming didn't smile.

He slowly squatted down, looked at the dying Lorient, and then looked at the broken dice of fate.

After a long moment, he spoke, his voice so soft it sounded like a whisper to the air.

"Fate... didn't you say you never fail?"

He put away the dice fragments, stood up, and looked over the bow of the ship to the sleeping throne.

On the bridge of the Whale Tomb, Kerkosen's figure still stood there, not moving at all.

But Sima Ming knew—he was watching.

"Everyone you sent to take my life has lost."

He narrowed his eyes, the wind blew the blood on his fingertips, and his tone was full of undisguised provocation:
"Next—is it your turn?"

"Lord of Lamentation."

Rex raised his sniper rifle and narrowed his eyes.

"Finally...it's time for the main course."

Celian licked her lips and looked towards the bow of the Whale Grave, her eyes filled with fighting spirit.

She murmured:
"I hate those who call themselves 'gods' the most."

"That kind of blood—it always makes me especially… hungry."

(End of this chapter)