Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 183 Letter from the Sea
"What the tide can't take away are names, memories, and the returning letters."

"Where destiny remains unfinished is the shore where the journey home ends."

The wooden door of the returnee's hometown was pushed open suddenly, and the heavy door panel made a dull loud noise, as if it was knocked open by some long-lost weight.

"Huh? So I'm not the first one?"

With a thunderous voice, a tall and burly figure squeezed into the bar.

He carried the battle axe as thick as a door panel on his back, his shoulders as broad as a rudder, and his whole body was like a mountain breeze mixed with the salty sea breeze, lifting the door curtain and also filling the room with the noisy smell of alcohol and joy.

"Hey, Siming!" Baroque grinned, his bare arms showing old scars that had not yet healed after the war under the light.

With the solemnity of a true returnee, he asked, "You're drinking here, and you didn't even call me?"

He took a few steps to the bar, roughly pulled out the high stool, and sat down with a thud, like a battleship docking in the harbor.

"I want rum! A super-large glass!" he said, raising his fist high, as if giving some heroic and fearless order.

Leng Ji raised his eyebrows, the ends of his eyebrows slightly curled up, and a faint smile played at the corners of his lips.

She whispered a mysterious command, and a giant wine glass half the height of a person was lifted up by an invisible force and slowly rose from the wine rack.
It landed steadily in front of Baroque. The cup was already filled with mellow golden rum, and the rim of the cup was emitting frosty cold air, like a naval battle of strong liquor about to begin.

Baroque raised his glass and drank deeply, finishing nearly half of it in one gulp. The wine slid down his chin, and he laughed out loud, looking up at the sky: "Phew—much better!"

Just as this heroic spirit was about to dissipate, the door curtain was blown up by the wind, and a series of footsteps with a salty smile sounded from outside the door.

"Even the wind can't catch up with you, Baroque."

Ian walked into the tavern, his windbreaker rustling at the door, a newly sharpened scimitar in his hand, his golden hair flying, his expression still cynical.

He waved towards the bar, his eyes etched with his usual playful smile: "Long time no see, Siming. Where have you been these past few days? Even I, Feng, couldn't find you."

Siming leaned lazily against the bar, the wine in the glass reflected the light, his face was slightly pale, but he couldn't hide the slight smile on the corner of his mouth.

He gently pushed the cup forward and said, "I've been here the whole time. It's you guys who appeared and disappeared more cleanly than the wind."

Ian smiled without comment, brushed away the traces of sea breeze from his shoulders, and found a seat to sit down.

The next moment, the door curtain swayed again, and a silence deeper than the wind followed.

Rex slowly stepped into the tavern, still wearing the same dark windbreaker, with a monocle tilted over his right eye, his expression as calm as before.

There was unfathomable fatigue in his eyes, as if he had just walked out of a dream and had to wake up again.

"We... went to take care of some personal matters." His voice was low but steady.

As soon as he finished speaking, Leng Ji paused while wiping the wine glass, looked up at him, then lowered his head and continued.

"Si Ming." Rex walked towards him. "By the way, Alison sent us here. Is there something important?"

Siming shrugged without further explanation: "I don't know, I just found out about this. But..."

He paused, his eyes flicking imperceptibly towards the door, "Alison seems to have forgotten me."

"How is that possible?" A calm and clear female voice pierced through the space.

The curtains were gently drawn aside, and Alison stepped in.

She was still wearing the neat and straight military uniform, with her sword hanging firmly at her waist, her steps steady and her eyes clear.

She glanced at everyone, finally stopping at Si Ming, and said calmly, "I just asked Leng Ji to pass it on. I heard you've been staying in the bar, so I guess you don't mind a greeting."

"Tsk, that's very thoughtful, First Mate."

Siming laughed dryly and raised his glass, "We... can be considered to be back."

Before he finished speaking, Leng Ji gently put down the cup in his hand and looked at the group of shadowy figures returning to the bar, with a long-lost comfort in his eyes.

She said softly, "Okay, now that you're all here."

She pulled out the familiar message in a bottle, emitting a faint blue light, from under the bar and gently placed it on the table. "The next few days will be your 'private route'."

After saying that, she turned and left, her black long skirt lightly sweeping across the dim floor, her back stretched out extremely long by the light.

It is like the always-lit homeward beacon at the end of the sea of ​​dreams, leaving a quiet night for these people who have experienced storms and nightmares.

The bottle lay quietly on the table, as if waiting for the moment to be opened again.

Everyone looked at the message in the bottle in the middle of the bar in silence.

It stood quietly on the wooden bar, the bottle emitting a faint blue light, as if it still carried the dampness and chill of the dream sea.

Alison slowly reached out and picked up the worn glass bottle.

A damp and cool touch came from the palm of my hand, as if it was not ordinary glass, but made of water from the abyss and the mist of dreams.

Her eyes were calm, yet a glint of awe shone through them. "A message in a bottle," she whispered, her tone so gentle as if she didn't want to disturb the sleeper within. "It's the most romantic way for pirates to send letters."

She gently stroked the bottle with her fingertips, her eyes narrowing slightly. "But the inscription on it is the language of the ship—'Whisper of nightmares, guide of the tides, lost sea souls, return to the broken ship.'"

Baroque stopped drinking, and the half-full wine glass in his hand trembled slightly.

Rex's pupils shrank suddenly, and his voice became low and hoarse: "This is... the ghost ship language of the Lost One."

"You mean..." Ian's voice became hurried, and a hint of uncertainty flashed in his eyes, "This letter is--"

"From Calvino and Lilia?" he asked almost in a whisper.

Alison nodded and gently pulled the cork from the bottle with her fingertips, her movements extremely slow and solemn, as if she were opening a tombstone or turning the pages of an unfinished logbook.

She brushed away the remaining wax seal on the bottle, and a piece of yellowed parchment slowly fell into her palm.

The pages are wrapped in a thin layer of wax paper, like deep-sea carrier pigeons traveling across time and space, quiet yet breathing.

She unfolded the letter and softly read the words inside - each word seemed to be salvaged from the echo of a distant dream sea:

To our dear friends and companions: First Mate Alison of the Lost, Staff Officer Siming, Sailor Ian, Lookout Rex, Sailor Baroque, and Blood Princess Celian—

The sea of ​​dreams is calm. The dark sea of ​​dreams that we once ventured into has calmed its turbulence.

I know that you have many questions and doubts, and I also know that you are worried about the safety of Lilia and me.

I would like to report to my crew: Your captain, I, Calvino, and navigator Lilia are safe.

The dream acknowledged us.

Although we cannot leave the dark sea, nor can we "go ashore" again, we have been given a new identity - extraditioner, welcoming the return of the dream.

This is a blessing in disguise.

Please don't grieve for us.

Lilia also greeted Celian.

You will see us again in the future - and that future will not be too far away.

In addition: The Lost has prepared a crew rest room for you. Just whisper our familiar ship language in front of any door and you can return to your "ship".

The last line of the paper was blurred by the dampness, like an echo blown away by the wind, but a few remaining words could still be vaguely discerned:

"Fate... the end... destiny... cannot be changed, but those who walk together need not be alone."

The air seemed to freeze for a moment.

Baroque stood up suddenly, his eyes red, and muttered hoarsely: "These two damn guys... have made us worry for so long."

Ian smiled and patted his shoulder: "It's not like you didn't cry."

"Shut up." Baroque muttered, but failed to hide his smile.

Rex silently placed his hands on the table, his fingertips gently stroking the letter, as if he wanted to feel someone's body temperature through the rough paper.

Siming rested his elbows on the table, looking down at the familiar handwriting. After a long pause, he smiled softly, "So... what are you going to do next?"

Alison folded the letter and put it inside her windbreaker, then slowly looked toward the lights outside the window.

"I need to go back to my world. I have some unfinished tasks. It's time to finish them."

Rex nodded as well, "Me too. It's time to take care of her grave."

"Hey, what a coincidence." Ian patted his machete. "I should go back... and see if the wind still recognizes me."

Baroque grinned. "Me? Alison wants to fight, so I'll just chop a few axes along the way."

Several people looked at Siming.

He spread his hands and stretched lazily: "Me? I won't run around anymore. I want to sleep in for the next few days. Okay?"

Everyone laughed.

They knew it was only a temporary farewell, not a farewell. True pirates never completely parted ways.

What's more, their captain is keeping a light for them in the depths of the sea of ​​dreams.

"Destiny may be irreversible, but encounters are never false."

"One day, we will stand side by side again, lighting each other's way home at the end of our destiny."

(End of this chapter)