Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 184: Sea of Roses, Bloody Chapter

Chapter 184: Sea of Roses, Bloody Return

"Blood cannot wash away glory, but it can irrigate the withered faith in memory."

"When roses bloom amidst the smoke of war, loyalty is no longer to the throne, but to one's companions."

The gate world of the Terian Empire: Sea of Six Flowers.

In the Rose Strait, the war clouds are already moving before the morning light arrives.

The towering stone walls of the naval fortress stood like silent beasts in the morning mist, and the bright red flags on the walls fluttered in the wind, as if ready to tear the sky apart in the flames of war at any time.

More than ten warships are anchored in the deep blue harbor, with towering masts, solemn decks, and soldiers standing in line. Even before morning exercises, military discipline has already solidified like iron and blood, condensing in every breath of sea breeze.

Inside the fortress, a group of imperial noble generals, dressed in luxurious military uniforms, with wigs as tall as mountains and waists hanging horizontally, hurriedly walked in the white stone corridors.

The sound of leather boots hitting the ground was so rapid and chaotic that it made the entire corridor sound like the beating of war drums, with a deep echo.

"What did you say? The Crown has returned?" Admiral Heyman Roche, who was over seventy years old and had eyes as sharp as an eagle, shouted angrily, slamming his crutch heavily on the ground. The sound was like a hammer hitting everyone's chest.

"And Lennox and Major General Edmund... are both missing? Are you sure it's not a rumor?" He narrowed his eyes, as if he could smell the blood of lies through the void.

The adjutant, sweating profusely, held the heavy intelligence document in his hands and answered almost incoherently:

"Your Excellency, Admiral, this is a report from Commodore Alfred himself... a large-scale... pirate rebellion has indeed occurred on the Whale Grave."

"Rebellion?" Heyman sneered, his eyes as sharp as ever, as if they could pierce through the depths of the sea.

"How can there still be rebellion on the ship of the Deep King? Has the Lord of the Deep no longer favored him?"

Before they finished speaking, they had arrived at Heyman's private office.

It was a magnificent space with walls covered with oil paintings commemorating imperial naval battles.

Every inch of the wall is soaked in the warmth of power, every lamppost carries the glory of victory, and under every carpet lies the shadow of the old era.

But when the door was pushed open, a sudden chill hit me in the face.

The air is still.

They saw that someone had already taken the main seat.

A man in a neatly-ironed military uniform stood behind the desk, his figure tall and slender, like a blade piercing into this arrogant fortress of power.

She was facing away from the crowd, quietly gazing out the window at the fog where the sea and sky met, as if the entire fortress was just a sleeping old ship.

On either side of her stood a man—

Brigadier General Alfred looked solemn and calm;

Captain Lester put his hand on his pistol, his eyes sharp and murderous.

On the side of the desk, Aviana lazily sat on the chair with her legs crossed, one hand supporting her chin, a half-smirk on the corner of her mouth.

With a half-joking tone, he glanced disdainfully at the stunned nobles standing at the door.

"Who are you?" Heyman practically roared, his anger burning through his fat shell. "Who allowed you to sit there?!"

The figure slowly stood up and turned around——

That face, cold as frost, yet with distinct features and an overwhelming aura, was the one he had personally banished to the cold palace seven years ago, condemning her to the "crime of bloody war"—

Alison Griffiths.

Her eyes were clear and calm like the sea, yet unfathomable, like an abyss where the tides were hidden.

She stepped forward, each step like a drum beating her heart, as if she were stepping on Heyman's chest.

"You shouldn't be here..." Heyman stepped back, his crutch trembling slightly in his hand.

Several noble officers nearby hurriedly drew their guns, but were too slow—too slow.

"boom!"

Avina raised her hand effortlessly and shot one of them in the wrist. A blood mist exploded, dyeing the oil painting depicting the glory of the empire red.

"Hiss!" The man screamed and fell to the ground, his gun clanging to the ground.

The next moment, Lester attacked like lightning, knocking down the guard who was rushing forward with a flying knee, and then smashed the armor of another man with a back elbow.
The sound of cracking bones and wailing intertwined into a short prelude to the battlefield.

A noble screamed and tried to escape, but was slammed into a thick "wall of flesh".

Baroque grinned and said in a thunderous voice, "I dare not disobey First Mate Alison's orders."

He picked up the nobleman and threw him at the other people like a wine barrel.

The huge impact knocked the three of them over, chairs, porcelain cups, and tea sets flew everywhere, and wailing instantly filled the entire office.

"This body shape is perfect for use as a weapon." Baroque smiled with satisfaction, his eyes flashing with a warlike light.

Alison looked at Hyman and said calmly, "I remember you once said, 'The weak are only fit to follow orders.'"

She walked slowly up to him and looked down at the old face that was twisted with fear.

"Now, it's your turn to obey orders." The sea breeze outside the house blew through the open door, dispelling the suppressed bloody smell in the room and blowing off the canvas depicting the victory of the empire on the wall.

The echoes of iron and fire are ringing again in the Sea of Six Flowers.

Heyman was already stunned, his legs were shaking, and the scepter under his feet slipped down, hitting the floor tiles with a dull sound.

He opened his mouth, his lips turned pale, and he uttered two words in a trembling voice:

"Rebellion?"

At this moment, Alfred walked up to him, his voice low and deep, but his tone as cold as a knife:
"Rebellion?" he repeated slowly. "When you treated us like livestock, sending us into the Sea of Dreams en masse to be used as bargaining chips for the Sleepers...you still talk about loyalty?"

The color drained from Heyman's face in an instant, and his hands, covered with age spots, trembled constantly, as if he was trying to support his gradually collapsing body, but he had no power.

Alison put her hands behind her back and approached step by step. Her voice was calm but sharp: "Don't jump to conclusions, Mr. Heyman."

Her eyes were as cold as stars, falling on his old face that was mottled with power.

"We simply took over the honors that you had already desecrated."

Heyman finally couldn't hold on any longer and knelt on the ground. The only one who was still standing was his adjutant Edward, whom he had promoted.

The man walked out of the crowd slowly, brushed the dust off his sleeves, and gave a polite and distant smile.

"Like I said," he said, as casually as if he were discussing a glass of rum, "I've never been one of your kind."

Heyman opened his eyes wide and looked at the subordinate whom he once trusted most. His eyes looked like he was drowning and wanted to grab the last piece of driftwood, but he didn't even have the strength.

"Okay, Edward, that's enough." Alison walked to his side, her tone gentle as if soothing, but cold as a judgment.

"Let's talk about personal matters first and then deal with business, right?"

She turned around and faced Heyman. Her voice was low and powerful, like a knife cutting through the flesh of lies:
"I already know the truth about the Blood Whale Battle." She paused, then slowly walked closer to his ear.

"Those forged war reports, those frontline soldiers you abandoned, those pensions that were never delivered... and those civilian sailors you stuffed into Blood Shark Bay."

Her voice gradually deepened, becoming as low as a mantra:
"I used to be proud to wear your badge, but now I feel only shame."

A coup d'état ended quietly in the Rose Strait before the dawn.

A few hours later, the Imperial Navy received an encrypted message from the Rose Fortress:
"Admiral Heyman, Lieutenant General Lennox, and Major General Edmond were detained by the Deep Ones on their way to the Whale Grave. Their fate is uncertain."

Signed: Adjutant Edward.

In the afternoon, the sea breeze became warmer, and the sun finally penetrated the dark clouds and fell on the blue sea.

Alison stood quietly on the fortress's observation balcony, her cloak fluttering slightly.

In the distance, the Blood Shark Bay sparkles, and those nobles who were once high and mighty—

Now he was crying and being thrown into the huge mouth of the blood shark that they had raised, and was buried in the sea of his own sin.

Baroque walked over with heavy steps, covered in blood and a salty smell. He casually threw a rag that had been used to wipe the noble's military uniform into the sea, as if throwing away the past as well.

He grinned. "It's all taken care of, First Mate."

Alfred stood on the other side of her, silent for a long time, and finally spoke:
"Why don't you take this opportunity to return to the navy? The Imperial Fleet still needs you."

Alison didn't answer right away.

She just looked quietly at the distant harbor. The rusty warships still sat on the water, like the wreckage of the empire's faith, once solemn and cold, but now empty.

After a long time, she spoke softly:
"I can no longer be loyal to the Empire."

She turned and looked at him, her eyes clear and firm.

"Right now, I'm only loyal to my partner."

She paused and smiled softly:
"Besides... being a pirate is actually pretty good, isn't it?"

Alfred was stunned, then he gave a helpless smile and whispered, "Maybe."

She turned and left, her steps firm, not stopping for any empire.

"This is just the beginning, Al." Alison's voice came on the sea breeze, like a battle flag rekindled in the wind.

"It's our beginning."

Alfred watched her figure fade away, his eyes reflecting the light where the sea and sky meet, and he repeated softly:

"Of course, this is just the beginning."

"The beginning of our era."

"The sea no longer roars for crowns, but hums for the souls struggling in the wind."