Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 139: Whale Graveyard Battle: Prayer of the Sleeper
"They thought the sea would be quiet after the whale sank."

"But I tell you - the sea will only get deeper."

The Lost roared forward through the thick fog.

It was a shadowy voyage that could not be tracked by the naked eye, like a ghost tearing through the boundaries of reality, whispering in the cracks of time, and sneaking in the entanglement of space spells.

The entire battleship turned into a translucent shadow in the blue-gray fog, like a ghost traveling through life and death, and suddenly appeared in front of the giant ship that seemed to have been abandoned by the sea god - the Whale Grave.

At that moment, the silence broke, and the sharp knife of fate was placed at the throat of the Lord of the Deep Sea.

On the bow of the ship, Alison turned her head, the wind blowing her hairband like a fluttering battle flag, her eyes so sharp that they seemed to cut through reality.

"You want to go up too?" she asked.

Calvino simply chuckled and made no direct response. He tilted his head slightly and pointed toward the starboard door.

The next second, a dark blue shadow stepped out of the mist - it was an ancient pirate, wearing a faded ship uniform, and the tears on his tricorn hat had long been sealed by time.

His eyes were dead, yet revealed a certain obsession and glory—that was the true master of the Lost, the immortal soul that slept in deep sleep.

The ghost captain nodded slowly and took the rudder.

"The Lost has its own soul." Calvino's tone is surprisingly calm, as if he is describing an inevitable tide.

"It knows better than you and me...where the ship should go."

The countdown for unrealistic navigation has returned to zero.

The next second, eight people gathered at the bow of the Lost.

Alison summoned the Whispering Spirit and whispered a final command. Fate was like a knife:

"Crown and all other warships, enter a suppression formation—suppress the Whale Grave until it learns what surrender means."

Amidst the gust of wind, Ian kicked open the card box, and several tactical cables flew out.
The hook went straight into the fortress-like iron shell of the Whale Tomb, and the sound of "clicking" was heard, like a beast biting into whale fat.

The eight people looked at each other in silence.

They are the lonely souls on the sea, the god of death with his eyes open in the roaring waves, the gamblers named by fate, and the madmen who dare to bet their souls on the scales.

——Boarding!
The claws tightened, the chains trembled. Eight figures moved up like dark shadows, some leaping, some sliding, some stomping, and some stepping on the waves like shadows, finally stepping into the body of the Whale Grave.

The Battle of Whale Tomb, the deepest heart, begins here.

The bow of the Whale Grave was as pale as bone and as huge as a mountain.

A flagpole like a dragon's spine stood at the bow, its bones twisted like a dead tree.

The flag fluttered high in the sky. It was a whale-patterned sea flag that made the entire sea tremble. It was as dark blue as the abyss, covered with traces of tentacles, as if it was watching the soul of everyone who dared to approach.

And beneath that banner, a person—or something—stood still in the wind.

Kerkosen.

He was wearing a tattered gray-black pirate cloak, but underneath he was no longer in human form.

Countless tentacles extended from his back, shoulders, and waist, each covered with suction cups and abscesses, slowly wriggling in the air like a breathing nightmare.

His face still retained its human outline, but it had long been distorted, with the corners of his mouth split to his ears, revealing a strange and cold smile.

"Hey." His voice was low and hoarse, but it revealed an uncomfortable calmness. "I don't know what kind of guest..."

He extended a tentacle covered in blood-red suckers and pulled out a thick sea code from behind him - it was broken, waterlogged, and rotten, like a suicide note salvaged from a shipwreck.

He opened the pages of the Sea Codex not with his hands, but by licking them with his tentacles like a tongue, and the sound of mucus gurgling as he turned the pages was accompanied.

He whispered a prayer, his words ancient and incomprehensible, like a deep-sea incantation that transcended the structure of human language:
"May the Lord of Sleep protect his servant... My great Lord, my father of the abyss, my master of the world."

"Give me a peaceful sleep...Give me the mastery of my dreams..."

Before he could finish his words, the tentacles had already fallen!
The blow was like thunder tearing through the deep sea, carrying spells and mucus to smash into the bow of the ship. Siming's figure was as fast as lightning.

He rolled sideways, and the moment he landed, he played a card with his backhand, and the black card flew around.

"This way of greeting is really deep sea style." He sneered.

Kerkoson grinned, his tentacles danced, and his voice became deeper:

"Enough of the games... My Lord awaits your slumber."

"Well, now accept your death and don't keep it waiting."

He raised his hand, and three cards ignited into a blood mist from the air:
——Intermediate Life System·Sleeping Fanatic.

——Intermediate Life System·Sleeping Shepherd.

——Intermediate Life System·Whale Tomb Sea Ghost.

Three dark blue lights exploded, and three figures stepped out from the fog.

A fanatic, shirtless, with whale marks and scars from spells burning all over his body,

The mask was welded tightly to his face, he raised his knife and roared, moving at the speed of a mad shark tearing through the sea;
A patriarch, draped in a whalebone robe and holding a sacred instrument, chanted strange incantations. His voice flooded into everyone's consciousness like a tide, making their heads feel heavy.

Finally, a ghost sea ghost made of whale bones and tentacles leaped in the air. It had no face, only countless watery eyeballs, emitting the stench of sea corpses. It pounced and bit, and the sonic boom was like a school of sharks biting.

The battle erupted in the abyss. The heart of the Whale Tomb finally began to beat—blood as the sound, tentacles as the drum.

"Go!" Baroque roared, his voice like thunder and his footsteps like hammers. He leaped out and pounced on the three Abyssal Summoners. Ian had already drawn his Wind Whispering Dagger and transformed himself into a gust of wind, swooping up from the flank, his figures intertwining like a phantom.

A bloodthirsty smile appeared on Celian's lips, her red eyes sparkled, her blood boiling. She whispered, "Damn, that smell is so good."
His figure had transformed into a strange blood butterfly in the night wind, gliding into the battle circle in an instant.

At the same time, Sima Ming, Calvino, Lilia and Allison had completed a cross formation and surrounded Kerkoson's body like a net.

Siming flicked the cards with two fingers, and the metal playing cards shot out like a rain curtain, making a whistling sound that broke through the air;

Calvino silently threw the noose gun, and the grappling hook accurately hooked the whalebone neck;

Lilia's two swords spun, transforming into a silver wind that disrupted the enemy's momentum;
Allison stood at the high point of the bow, flipped the magazine, and fired a series of shots, each one aimed at the naval flag.

but--

All attacks, half a meter away from Kerkosen, seemed to hit an invisible "deep sea wall" at the same time.

——Like a wall of dreams.

Like a city built with whale bones, it is impossible to cut, penetrate or shake the virtual and the real.

"The attack... is ineffective?" Alison's face suddenly changed, and her eyes were like a gust of wind before death.

Rex's voice came from behind, deep and filled with undisguised anger and sarcasm:

"Elegy for the Whale's Grave, rule number one... He's playing with it to such an extreme? That's cheating, right?"

Siming clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white. "And he, fused himself with the Whale Grave Sea Flag, viewing the entire flag as an extension of his body."

Lilia narrowed her eyes and said coldly, "That means we can't even touch a hair of his."

"That's right." Kerkosen took a step forward, and his footsteps on the deck caused ripples on the sea.

He smiled gently, as if greeting an old friend.

His tentacles pulled out three more cards, his claws piercing into the spell, blood dripping onto the paper.

——Intermediate world card·Sleeping Wind.

——High-level life card·Nightmare Tentacles.

——Low-level fate card: Dream Gun.

The wind rises and the dream begins.

He started to fight back.

"Dedicate yourself." He whispered, and the whalebone sea flag behind him fluttered violently.

A sudden gust of wind blew up, and everyone seemed to fall into a deep dream.

The strange dream gun fired first!

The burning bullets exploded in the air, carrying the whisper of the sea curse like a meteor. One hit could pull the soul into a dream.

Baroque was fighting the sea ghost head-on when he suddenly slipped and fell heavily on the deck with veins bulging on his forehead.

His pupils trembled violently. In the illusion, Gregor walked towards him, covered in blood, roaring and pressing him into the darkness: "You can't kill me! You're just... a piece of shit!"

Ian was entangled by the nightmare tentacles, and the wind whispering field was instantly interrupted. His body trembled violently and his breathing became disordered.

A mouthful of blood spurted out, which was the painful reaction of the flesh being unable to withstand the mental invasion.

Only Celia still sneered.

As she broke the fanatic's neck, she turned her head and licked her fingertips, as if this illusion was just an appetizer before the seasoning.

"It's quite interesting." She whispered, her smile as cold as a blade.

Alison cursed, "This bastard...didn't he have a single star of sanity from beginning to end!?"

Calvino said gravely, "He uses nightmare gold... like me."

"But he is much richer than you..." Siming sneered, his eyes flashing with a dark light.

At that moment, Kerkosen seemed to hear their surprise.

He gently opened his chest, and a dark blue star map of destiny emerged - ten stars of reason, neatly aligned, without a single flaw, shining like ten death stars in destiny.

He hadn't even really started fighting.

"Come on." Kerkosen opened his arms, and his voice was like the echo of the abyss, overwhelming the strong wind and huge waves and rolling into everyone's ears.

"Struggle."

"You are just waking corpses."

"And I am the King of the Sleepers."

"My Lord will bring back my truly loyal subordinates during the next whale call."

He gently closed his eyes, and the sea flag whispered.

"How long can your secrets last?"

"Sleep is endless—sleep with me."

(End of this chapter)