Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 145 Fangs in the Mist
"Everyone who gets close to the truth will encounter a nightmare."

"In the Sea of ​​Destiny, every battle is to repay the unpaid debts of the past."

In the black sea where ghost fog is rolling, huge waves are roaring like evil beasts, as if they are going to completely swallow up this world.

Two warships, one large and one small, shrouded in shadows, collided violently. The roar of the hulls tearing apart shattered the thick fog.
A large number of black seagulls, like crows, were startled and circled, wailing as if singing a dirge for the impending massacre.

The boarding battle has broken out.

In the thick fog, a beast-like roar tore through the night sky:

"I'm Fenrir! Come on, let's fight--!"

The deck of the Lost suddenly shook, and a tall, fierce figure suddenly leaped onto the deck.

He was shirtless, his muscles were covered with knife marks like rocks, and his eyes were a strange scarlet that did not belong to a human.

The moonlight shone down, illuminating the corners of his grinning mouth, making him look like some kind of predator in ancient mythology.

He howled to the sky, his voice like a beast's roar. His blood vessels bulged, his skin swelled, and gray-brown hair erupted from under his skin like a volcano.

The fingertips turned into cold claws, and the long brown hair fluttered wildly in the wind - in a blink of an eye, a tall and terrifying werewolf was formed!

The werewolf exploded like a gray shadow and rushed straight towards the rudder, with the tip of its sharp claws almost reaching Calvino's chest!

In that split second—

"boom!!"

A burly black figure rushed over, punching the werewolf like a hammer, sending it flying ten meters away! With the sound of the deck shattering, Fenrir rolled towards the side of the ship in his wolf form!

Baroque strode forward, the veins on his fists tense, a cold smile on his face:

"Werewolf? Humph. I don't even bother to use mysteries against a thing like you. I can beat you with my fists alone."

Fenrir roared and leaped up, claws out, and pounced on Baroque. The two engaged in a physical and wild collision in the center of the deck.

Fists and claws clashed, and the sounds of bones cracking, beast roars, and angry howls mixed together, shaking the entire Lost!

However—the murderous intent in the shadows has not ceased.

On the left side of the deck, two black shadows suddenly rose up, like poisonous snakes coming out of a cave, rushing towards Baroque's back with a fishy and foul smell!
"A sneak attack?" Siming's voice sounded coldly.

He flicked his finger, and five playing cards flew out like lightning. Two of them were like blades that cut through space, accurately severing the two roaring venomous snakes.

The fragments of the card surface burst into bloody sparks in mid-air, and continued to tremble as they fell onto the deck.

"Playing this trick in front of me?" Siming raised his eyelids, his eyes sharp as a needle, "You picked the wrong opponent."

The man hiding in the shadows' expression changed.

He was none other than Gilman, the "Sea Serpent Master", who was skilled in stealth and snake control. He had thought that he could take advantage of the chaos to severely injure Baroque, but he had not expected Sima Ming to react so quickly.

He gritted his teeth, jumped into the thick fog, and disappeared without a trace.

Just as everyone was still gasping for breath, a graceful yet deadly figure slowly stepped onto the deck on the starboard side.

She was wearing a blue and silver robe, her dark blue hair fell like the tide, and a cold and seductive smile was on the corner of her lips.

She made no sound, only gently lifted her fingertips, and a low melody sounded, like the murmur of a sleeper in the distant sea.

That's the Tide Witch, Ilica.

She blew out a breath of cold air, and a stream of cold air mixed with spells and strange sounds gushed out, sweeping across the deck!

The wooden planks were frozen, the masts were covered with frost, and the entire ship seemed to have entered a cold winter in an instant!

"Tsk, this tune really makes me sleepy." A light laugh was heard.

Ian flicked his fingers, and the card turned into a red flame that ignited in his palm.

He whispered softly, "Sleeping Wind, rise."

In an instant, a gray-green whirlwind rose up, instantly swallowing the witch's cold current, and rolled back into a wall of wind and rushed towards Ilica!

The strange wind was a mixture of nightmares and hypnosis, a mysterious structure that seemed to separate people from their consciousness!
The witch's face suddenly changed, and she jumped back hastily, but a corner of her skirt had been blown into broken ice by the wind!
She screamed, her composure gone, and the spell was interrupted.

The battle on the deck intensified, and more murderous intentions were approaching in the thick fog.

The battle situation is like a raging furnace and may get out of control at any time!

But the soldiers on the Lost had firm expressions and their figures were as still as rocks.

Because they all knew that the outpost battle in the Sea of ​​Dreams had just begun.

The melee was like a tide, and the deck was surging like purgatory.

At the moment when everyone was fighting fiercely and their attention was torn apart, a dark figure silently wandered in the shadow of the Lost.
Like a ghost in the fog, it approached Lilia's back silently.

That's Gilman.

He was dressed in a dark black robe, his aura was almost reduced to zero, and the dagger in his hand reflected a strange cold light, which slid along the cabin wall.

Like a poisonous snake's tongue, it whispers the whisper of death in the dark.

His eyes were cold and his steps were as light as a nightmare, approaching to within half a meter.

Just when he was about to thrust the dagger out——"Bang——!"

The gunshots were like thunder cracking the sky!
A line of fire suddenly exploded in the night, and the bullet was like a ray of light that cut through the thick fog and hit Gilman's dagger accurately!
The sharp steel blade was blown away in the air and hit the mast, creating sparks!
A calm and cold voice sounded:

"Ambush my companions?"

"You're not destined for this."

Rex half-knelt high on the side of the ship, the sniper rifle slowly emitting residual heat, and the red scope looked like a demon's eyes in the thick fog.

His tone was as cold as ice fished out of the deep sea.

Gilman reacted extremely quickly, spun around and leaped sideways, pulling out a second short blade with his backhand to cut off the flying bullet fragments. At the same time, he quickly retreated to the side of the ship, his face looking extremely ugly.

He cursed under his breath and caught a glimpse of a beautiful figure leaning against the railing beside him, a sarcastic smile on her lips.

"You messed up again?"

Selina half-closed her eyes, her blue hair fluttering in the wind, and tapped the side of the ship lightly with the ice crystal scepter in her hand. Her tone was lazy but contained no trace of contempt.

"Shut up." Gilman gritted his teeth and shot back, his eyes as angry as a snake. "Don't ask me to save you again."

At the same time, the battle in the center of the deck also became increasingly intense.

Baroque and the werewolf Fenrir have completely given up all their techniques and moves, leaving only the most primitive confrontation of wildness and strength.

Fists hit claws, bones hit bones, and the loud collision made the entire deck seem to groan!
Fenrir's sharp claws left a bloody mark on Baroque's shoulder, and Baroque's iron fist smashed into the werewolf's ribs, making a dull sound like a drum.

Both sides were injured, but the fighting spirit in their eyes was even stronger, as if taking a step back would be a sentence of shame.

"Click."

A distant yet majestic voice suddenly crossed the battlefield, as cold as an order from the undead.

"That's enough, Fenrir."

"return."

The sound was like a sharp blade in the pale wind, instantly cutting off the noise of the battle.

Fenrir growled and retreated, his eyes still wild, but he didn't dare to disobey.

He jumped back over the side of the boat and returned to the back of the ghostly figure standing still.

Holt - the leader of the Bone Scythe.

His hair was as white as frost, and he wore a long dark grey windbreaker draped over his shoulders. His broken right arm had long been replaced by a rusty iron hook.

The iron hook gleamed with the coldness of metal in the moonlight, like an executioner's blade born for revenge.

His eyes were as deep as black water as he looked at Calvino with an undisguised sneer on his lips:

“Italo Calvino.”

"Tonight, we are merely sending you a reminder of an old debt."

"You collect these keys,"

His tone suddenly turned cold. "Are you planning to kill another group of people? Like last time, because of your cowardice, you brought about the destruction of all of us?"

He raised the iron hook high, and his voice was like a cold knife cutting the throat:
"Hand over the cards."

"You are not worthy to set foot in the Sea of ​​Dreams again."

The heavy words were like rivets, fixing the entire deck in place.

Lilia's expression suddenly changed. She slowly walked to Calvino's side and whispered with a complicated expression: "Brother...we..."

Calvino closed his eyes, and those old memories flashed through his mind like sharp blades - the sea of ​​corpses, the flames, Holt's roar, they used to be companions... and now, they have become enemies in confrontation.

He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze already as determined as iron.

"I did make mistakes in the past," he said slowly, "but that's no reason to back down."

"This time——"

"I won't leave anyone else standing."

The words were like thunder, resounding in everyone's hearts.

Holt smiled coldly, said nothing more, turned around and jumped back to his boat.

The pirates of the Bone Scythe retreated like a tide, slowly disappearing into the thick fog.

But the death and hatred behind them enveloped the entire sea like the night, and did not dissipate for a long time.

Calvino stood in the middle of the deck, looking in the direction of the enemy ship, his fists clenched.

The sea breeze grew colder, and the mist swayed beneath the starlight.

And in front of us, the crack connecting nightmare and truth - the entrance to the sea of ​​dreams, is slowly opening.

(End of this chapter)