Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 140: Elegy at the Whale Tomb, Wang Yuxiuge
The dead souls sleep beneath the whale bones, but the heart of the storm will eventually awaken.

The black tide surges and the blood moon hangs high in the sky, and the fateful battle quietly begins.

On the dark sea, the Whale Tomb is like a fortress sleeping in the deep sea, standing alone and motionless, like the corpse of an ancient god.

Its masts towered into the clouds, and its sails trembled slightly in the silent wind, as if listening to some impending disaster.

On the deck, Kerkoson stood still like a monument, its tentacles dancing slowly like deep-sea vines, each holding a different mysterious weapon.
The cold light of the blade reflected the cracks in the sky, revealing a creepy sense of death.

He stood motionless beneath the flag, his tentacles tightly wrapped around the flagpole.
It was as if the entire Whale Tomb was an extension of his body, and if he let go, it would collapse and disintegrate.

Alison narrowed her eyes, looking at the entangled structure of the flagpole and Kerkoson, and suddenly, an idea flashed in her mind.

She whispered, "He doesn't dare leave the flagpole... That's right... He can't leave."

Her eyes were sharp as a blade. "As long as he lets go, any attack we make that destroys the flagpole will allow us to follow the third rule of the Lament - 'If the flag is broken, the battle is considered lost' and win this naval battle!"

Siming and Calvino exchanged glances, understanding each other. If this was a crack in fate, then they would split it open with flames!
"Okay," Siming smiled softly, his expression like a gambler before placing a bet, mysterious and calm, "Then force him to let go."

But Kerkosen had already heard their intentions. He smiled a mocking smile, his lips like torn whale cheeks, revealing the inner walls of the bloody tentacles.

"I don't need to move." His voice was low, like a curse flowing from whale bones.
"Hold on for just one hour, and my lord's men will return, and you pathetic gamblers will be devoured."

"Weaver of fate...you have run out of trump cards?"

He smiled lightly, his eyes challenging, as if he was standing at the end of time, watching the people on the Lost swing their fists in vain.

"Really?" Siming still chuckled, but his voice was as sharp as a blade. He slowly tilted his head, "Who said I don't have any trump cards?"

Celian pulled herself out of the battle group and walked slowly towards them, her red hair draped over her shoulders and her eyes sparkling with allure. She slowly raised a card in her hand.
The card is silver-white, covered with an intricate pattern of roses and moon patterns, like a feast of dreams and nightmares.

——No.47 World Series Intermediate Secret Card: Moonfall Flute.

The card was activated, and the silver-white Fanlou illusion slowly emerged, like a floating city, taking shape above the Whale Tomb.

Half ruins, half magnificent palace, one building and one pavilion covered the sky above the battlefield, and what swirled down was a low and sad flute sound, like a tide, like a whisper, like a fire in a dream.

The flute sounded and the realm opened.

Rule 1: Anyone who hears the flute sound will fall into an illusion - a sea of ​​fire, frost, a sinking sea, and illusions of killing will follow. If the illusion is not broken, it will turn into real damage.

Rule 2: Under the baptism of the moonlight in the Fantasy Tower, the holder will recover and the enemy will be severely damaged.

Celia chuckled and whispered, "Didn't you say we don't have any trump cards? Then let's see... if my 'gift' is worthy enough to dance one last dance with you."

Ten stars of reason appeared on the star map behind her, six stars went out in an instant, and the field exploded!
The sound of the flute is like a tide, and the deep-sea undead are the first to bear the brunt.

Those howling fanatics, those nightmare water ghosts that crawled out from the cracks in the whale bones, all roared and struggled in the illusion of fire and ice.

In the hallucinations, they were engulfed in flames, drowned in the sea, and strangled by the deepest fear in their hearts, but these hallucinations actually tore their souls into pieces.

The baptism of moonlight blows like the night wind, sprinkling on the lost people.

Ian's wound healed in an instant, and Baroque's broken joints began to reset. Alison closed her eyes, her fingers trembling slightly. The next second, she reloaded the magazine, and her fighting spirit ignited like a blazing light.

"Thank you," she whispered, "I like this song."

However, Kerkosen remained motionless. His tentacles wrapped around the flagpole seemed to be embedded in the bone marrow, sinking deeper and deeper.

The entire illusion was reflected in his eyes, but there was no ripple in them, instead a hint of sarcasm appeared.

"You're still fantasizing... that I'd be swayed by this kind of trick?" His voice was so low that it was almost inaudible.

"This little illusion is a toy for my master to dream... Do you think you are the master of dreams?"

The corners of his mouth slowly rose, like a god about to open his mouth to the sea.

"You are not the winners."

"You are just... the dead souls who haven't woken up yet."

The sea flag fluttered behind him, and the tentacles seemed to be getting tighter and tighter. The Whale Grave did not retreat a single step.

But the eyes of the lost never dodge.

The gamble is not over yet.

The battle situation reached a stalemate, but the Whale Tomb remained as majestic as a mountain, like a throne in the deep sea that never sleeps.

The Crown, Dark Whisper, Broken Bones, Shattered Flame... Dozens of pirate ships attacked like a pack of wolves, firing continuously.
However, it could only create ripple-like patterns of laws on the dark blue hull, and could not really shake the sea flag representing "Elegy of the Whale Tomb" in the slightest.

The pressure continued to intensify, and anxiety spread across the battle lines.

"The heavy fire pressure is ineffective, and the Whale Tomb's territory has not collapsed!" Allison's forehead was covered with cold sweat, and there were constant whispers in her ears, all conveying regrettable news.

"If you fight again, we won't even have the strength to breathe..." Rex gritted his teeth and whispered, but there was a hint of unwillingness in his eyes.

Just when everyone was at a loss, a thunderous laugh suddenly came from the sky!

"Mei—the 'interesting guys' you mentioned are these idiots who were beaten like drowned rats? Ha!"

The voice was as loud as thunder piercing the sea, carrying a kind of long-lost arrogance and unrestrainedness that made people's hearts tighten.

"Okay, stop your games for a while—next, it's my turn."

Everyone looked up suddenly.

The clouds were torn apart, and a ghost ship in the sky, made of flames, raging waves and soul bones, pierced through the clouds and descended.

The ship's hull was like a red dragon swimming in the sky, its sails burning with eternal fire, and its dragon head seemed to have a spirit, roaring among the clouds.

On the bow of the ship stood a man.

Xu Long.

He spread his arms, his cloak fluttering, his body like a god of war, his eyes like stars, and every movement seemed to cause the Red Dragon to rise and fall according to his will.

Flames rose behind him, reflecting his unruly smile, like a ray of fire from the sky that cut through the long night, instantly splitting the aura of the Whale Tomb that was as oppressive as the abyss!
"...That's...Xu Long?" Alison murmured in disbelief.

"This guy is so crazy..." Rex's eyes suddenly narrowed and his voice trembled.

Kerkosen's tentacles wrapped around the flagpole suddenly tightened, and his low but lingering whisper carried on the wind: "Xu Long...you...why are you here?"

At that moment, what emerged in his eyes was not anger, nor arrogance, but a trace of almost concealed fear and unspeakable pain.

Xu Long did not answer.

He simply stepped slowly in the air, as if walking on solid ground, and each step created ripples of fire in the void.

He lowered his head like the King of Hell, looking down at all living beings and the Whale Grave. The corners of his mouth slowly curled up, and his eyes were so sharp that they seemed to be able to tear the entire battleship apart.

The Red Dragon roared and turned beneath his feet, spun down into the air, and landed steadily right above the Whale Grave, like a judge about to be executed with the executioner's blade hanging high.

At that moment, the entire Whale Tomb hull collapsed down an inch imperceptibly, as if it itself was "instinctively" sensing the threat.

The wind blew, the black sails flipped, and the fog dissipated.

The gears of fate began to turn again.

The rules of Whale Tomb are being broken.

The king from the Red Dragon is once again picking up the sword that was once buried in the deep sea.

The moment he arrived, all the fate, rules, curses and oppression that had been established began to shake.

He is the one who has never been marked in this gambling game, but has always been the most aggressive one.

And the whisper from the abyss, accompanying the whale tomb, also quietly awakened at this moment.

(End of this chapter)