Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 137: Whale Graveyard Sea Battle - Lullaby

"My most outstanding disciple, please let me sleep peacefully today."

Baroque's breathing was heavy, and each breath felt like a blunt object hitting his ribs, shaking his chest and spine.

The fifth star of reason on his arm was emitting a halo that was on the verge of breaking, like a lamp swaying in a storm, which could burn out completely at any time.

He swallowed a mouthful of blood without spitting it out, letting the fishy and salty taste seep into his teeth and throat.

On the opposite side, Gregor stood in the Bone King armor.

The six giant bone spears floating around him hummed in the air, like a heartbeat from the deepest part of the Whale Grave, heavy, slow, and deadly. He lowered his head and spoke in a voice as heavy as ballast:

"So far... you have satisfied me."

The voice was like rusty iron rubbing against a stone wall, rough and carrying a deep-sea sense of death.

"But I'm not here to teach you how to win."

Baroque didn't respond immediately. He just exhaled.

The breath was mixed with blood, pain, and a faint arc - it was unclear whether it was a smile or a painful twitch.

The air suddenly tightened, as if someone had torn off some invisible restraints.

Gregor raised his hand, and six giant bone spears suddenly cut through the sky and stabbed towards Baroque!

Each spear shadow was accompanied by a sharp scream, as if it wanted to tear this flesh and blood body into pieces.

Baroque closed his eyes, just for a moment.

The next second, he opened his eyes suddenly!

He didn't retreat. He took a step forward, a heavy blow like a hammer, and the deck trembled.

His arms were no longer made of flesh and blood; they were scorched earth tempered by the rage of the tide, and they were steel that had not yet cooled in purgatory.

He is like a reef rising from the deep sea, broken but unyielding.

His fists were clenched, and his joints made crackling sounds.

There are no lines.

No declaration.

Only the will resists death.

He leaped up like a giant whale rising from the deep sea of ​​nightmare, his figure leaving a trail of afterimage in the air.

The fist was wrapped in strong wind and blood, and it suddenly smashed towards the center where the six spears intersected!
The first bone spear hit his shoulder, tearing his flesh and bones apart. The sound of the broken bones cracking was as clear as thunder.

The second pierced the side of the waist, tearing a bloody hole and splashing blood;

The third and fourth were knocked off course by him, the planks bursting and wood chips raining down;

As for the last two - he gritted his teeth and used his only remaining intact arm to smash them into pieces!
——“Bang!!”

The entire evil ship of bones seemed to be lifted up in an instant, and all sounds disappeared, as if the whole world had stopped, leaving only the crisp and terrifying sound of bones breaking.

Gregor backed away.

That was the first time he was pushed back three steps.

The shoulder armor shattered, the bone armor collapsed, and blood flowed down the broken arm guard, but he laughed softly, and his laughter was full of dull pain and admiration for surviving the disaster.

"You can really hold on." He gasped, black and red saliva oozing from his throat.

Baroque slowly stood up, his knees trembling as if they were filled with lead.

His legs were almost numb, and blood had pooled at his feet.

His chest felt like it was being burned by fire, and every contraction of his lungs felt like a knife stabbing him.

But he gritted his teeth, and that familiar smile appeared on the corner of his mouth again - stubborn, bastard, but so familiar.

"I remember when you taught me my first lesson, I cried like a baby."

"You said—'Bleeding doesn't hurt, being unable to move hurts.'"

"Today... I can still move my whole body."

Gregor looked at him quietly, and the bone spear stopped floating.

He slowly raised his cracked right arm, like an old but still intact monument.

He slowly pointed to his heart.

"You did it." His voice was hoarse, like the last drop of spring seeping out from deep in the rock.

"You can finally... kill me."

Baroque remained silent, a drop of blood dripping down his chin. His sixth star of reason finally ignited completely at this moment.

This is the limit.

They all reached the end.

And this is not a confrontation, it is a farewell.

Gregor stood quietly, slowly retracting the bone spear behind him, like an ancient armor being sheathed.

He looked at his former student, and for the first time there was no reprimand or pressure in his eyes, only the silent advice of an old warrior to the one who was about to take over.

"But you have to use...real fists."

"Not the 'want-to-win' kind of punch."

"It's—the fist that means 'to let someone rest in peace.'"

A flash of pain flashed across Baroque's eyes. He slowly clenched his fist, blood oozing from between his fingers. That was the "secret" he had condensed with his last bit of strength.

Their eyes met.

The wind stopped, the waves calmed, and the world seemed to have left.

Only two people took a step forward. The moment that step landed—the entire bone ship seemed to wake from a dream.

The next second, they simultaneously ignited the last star of sanity!
Not for victory or defeat, not for glory.

——Just to send each other off for the last time.

The blood flowed backwards, and the vitality in the body burned to the limit.

Baroque's muscles surged like a tsunami, veins bulged, and every inch of his skin seemed to be roaring like a wild beast.

His fist seemed to be wrapped in the flames of the abyss, hammering out a heart of fire in the wrought iron.

On the opposite side, Gregor's bone armor gathered all at once to his right arm, transforming into a whale-back-like bone spear that pierced through his shoulder, elbow, and wrist.

His entire arm was stretched as if it were a bowstring stretched to its limit, cold as an isolated island in front of a shattered sea of ​​stars.

"Come on..." He growled softly, stepping forward slowly, "With this blow, I want complete destruction."

"Me too." Baroque responded in a deep voice, as low as thunder, but his eyes were like the morning light rising from the angry tide.

boom--!
They punched at the same time!

The fist and the bone spear collided head-on, and the air between the two was forcibly crushed, and the shockwaves like thunder echoed throughout the entire Whale Tomb Ship.

No tricks, no fancy moves, only the most primitive power and belief.

It is the roar of blood and bones, and the final farewell between disciple and master.

At that moment, the wind stopped, the sea seemed to have calmed down, and even the mast of the Whale Grave trembled like a groan.

Then--

"Kayu——"

The sound of broken bones rang out clearly and cruelly, followed closely by the dull impact of flesh being torn and blood splattering, ringing like a death knell in the dead silence.

Baroque stumbled back and fell to one knee. His shoulder was nearly dislocated, and blood gushed out from the torn joint onto the deck.

His arms were swollen like rocks and he could barely lift them.

But he didn't fall.

He held onto the ground, as if holding onto the oath that would not fall.

And Gregor—

He stood there quietly, without moving.

But his bone armor began to break, crumbling inch by inch, from his shoulders to his chest, like an old shell peeling off, falling into a pool of blood.

He lowered his head, his eyes calm, looking at his chest. The crack caused by Baroque's fist was spreading like a spider web.

There was a "crackling" sound of bones breaking in his body, each one like the countdown of a pendulum, slow but irresistible.

He spat out a mouthful of blood and smiled slowly, with a cruel yet gentle arc at the corner of his mouth.

“…That’s more like it.”

He staggered to sit down, as if he had unloaded the weight of the world, leaned against the deck, and looked up at the gray sky, as if looking at an unfinished journey.

"Don't let me... wake up again."

The sound was very soft, as soft as a dream talk, but heavier than any roar.

The next moment, his bones and flesh began to collapse.

The power bestowed by the Whale Tomb receded like a bursting dam wave, and his body turned into wisps of white ash in the wind, slowly drifting away with the cold wind of the Whale Tomb ship, like snow and dust.

His smile still lingers in the wind.

That's not death.

It is the destination.

As a veteran, he finally gets to choose how he ends his life.

Gregor, the strongest general of the Whale Tomb, fell at the hands of his most trusted disciple.

No hatred, no regrets.

Baroque lowered his head, staring at the empty space opposite him, his breathing like thunder at the receding tide.

He stared at his still-trembling fists, blood dripping from his fingertips. The sixth star of reason was still burning, like a remaining lamp after a fire sacrifice, its red light flickering continuously.

"Old Captain..."

"do not worry."

"I won't let that guy... drag you back here again."

"Even if... I have to burn out."

His throat was hoarse and broken, but every word was as hard as a nail and as heavy as an oath.

On the Whale Tomb Ship, the evil ship of bones, the wind stopped and the blood coagulated.

The disciple punched his master, sending him into a deep sleep.

Baroque slowly stood up, staggered two steps, then straightened his back and stepped out of the battlefield paved with bones and blood.

Every step is like the sound of a drum.

In the direction of the Whale Tomb ship, there was a faint sound of thunder in the distance, and dark waves were surging on the sea, as if the Whale Tomb had also noticed the farewell of one of its star generals.

But this is just the beginning.

The owner of the Whale Tomb has not taken any action yet.

——And they have just ignited the flame of counterattack.

(End of this chapter)