Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 40: Tricks in the Shadows
"In the darkness, the pretender and the real are hard to distinguish,

However, the person who plays the role most perfectly often forgets who he is.”

The blood-red altar stood tall, and the black chains coiled like poisonous snakes, binding Siming and the others tightly to the cold stone platform.

The cold metal pressed against their skin, and eerie blood veins floated on the chains, slowly sucking their vitality like living things.

Between breaths, blood slowly flowed along the veins to the magic circle under his feet, gathering into a dark red light, illuminating the entire altar.

The Duke's steps were slow and heavy, his figure shrouded in the light and shadow of blood, and his gaze lingered on the girl on the stone platform for a long time.

His fingers tightened, gripping a blade as black as night, the edge reflecting a scarlet sheen, like a bloodthirsty beast, waiting for the moment to devour a life.

He was hesitating.

His red pupils were as deep as the abyss, and there was a flicker of painful struggle in his eyes, so heavy that it seemed to be able to crush the darkness.

The fate of the vampires, a thousand-year shackle, or his daughter?
In mid-air, the twin princesses looked down at the scene, their eyes distant and indifferent.

Their faces were blurred and shrouded in blood mist, like distorted illusions. Their bottomless eyes were filled with amused mockery and ridicule.

"Impatient is not just a royal virtue like yours."

"This is also the virtue of me, the True Ancestor of the Blood Clan."

They waved their hands lightly, and blood-colored vines burst out of the air like living things.

Instantly, they wrapped around Celian's limbs, pulling her from the stone platform into the air and dragging her into their arms.

"Since you are unwilling to do it yourself, I will take it myself."

The blood-colored tentacles wrapped tightly around her, like soul-devouring shackles, digging into Celian's skin.

The purest blood of the vampires began to be forcibly extracted, her body turned an abnormal blood color, the resonance of the blood caused painful tremors, and her low and hoarse breathing was mixed with hidden pain.

The Duke's fingertips clenched suddenly, and even his joints made a slight crisp sound.

His chest heaved violently, the calmness of the vampire and the fatherly love he once had wildly intertwined, colliding with his reason.

Murderous intent surged, hatred burned, his red pupils suddenly shrank, and the spear in his hand was raised almost instantly.

But at that moment, a low sneer slowly sounded in the deep darkness.

"Hehe, do you think she is Celian?"

Siming's voice sounded leisurely, with a hint of contempt for playing with people's hearts. His voice was not high.
But it was like a cold blade piercing the air, causing the Duke's movements to freeze in mid-air.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze.

The Duke turned his head suddenly, his scarlet pupils suddenly contracted, and he stared at the man who was still tied to the altar.

His eyes changed from confusion to shock, and then to a chill of disbelief.

"what are you saying?"

Siming smiled slightly. The black chain pressed on his neck, but he still leaned casually on the stone platform, with a meaningful arc at the corner of his mouth.

"It seems perfectly acted, isn't it, Your Excellency?"

His casual words were like a stone thrown into deep water, stirring up everyone's suspicion and anxiety.

The Duke stared at the familiar face, the low hum of blood mist swirling in his ears, but his heart seemed to be frozen.

Was it wrong? It couldn't be wrong... Her blood, her breath, her soul, clearly...

wrong.

Something was... wrong from the beginning!

"You are--"

His voice was low and hoarse, and before he could finish his words, Sima Ming had already chuckled and spoke. His tone was lazy, but it carried a deadly and dangerous tone.

"Don't believe it?"

He slowly raised his hand, and with a slight twist of his fingertips, the blood veins on the chain trembled slightly for a moment. "Then let's take a look."

The next moment, his voice was low and cold, as if it had cut through the dark sky, and every word that fell was like the roar of thunder.

"Lost scholar, if you don't wake up now, when will you wake up?"

The air vibrated violently, and Celian's body trembled violently on the altar.
Then, her skin began to ripple like water, the outlines of her flesh gradually distorting and beginning to melt, transforming into a pool of deep black shadow.

It was not a tragic sight of flesh and blood being torn apart, but a strange flow, like a shadow quietly returning to its origin.
Under the blood light, it slowly peeled off and dissipated.

The hearts of the people around seemed to stop suddenly at this moment.

"Who are you? Who are you?"

The shadow whispered, its voice sharp and obscure, as if echoing at the junction of the underworld and reality.
Its voice whispers in my ears, like an echo from the underworld.

"I am a human, not a ghost. I am a ghost, not a human—"

"Lost Scholar!"

In an instant, everyone's eyes widened.

Natasha's breathing suddenly stopped, and Loren looked at the strange shadow in astonishment.
Herman's pupils shrank slightly, Roca clenched his fists, and the shadow under Avel's feet moved quietly, as if sensing the arrival of its own kind, and trembled slightly.

Shadows were tumbling, and tiny whispers echoed throughout the altar.

The deep laughter was like a ghost seeping out of a crack, echoing in the darkness.

A vague human figure emerged from the shadows, its half-frozen face moving silently, like a dead person who once existed in the world, trapped in this dark cage.

The next moment, the black shadow suddenly condensed, and the shadow thorn turned into a sharp blade of death, breaking through the air.

Carrying a mysterious aura, it stabbed towards the twin girls in mid-air at lightning speed!
At the same time, the blood-colored chain broke with a low tremor, and the ancient runes engraved on it instantly dimmed.

The restraints were broken, the blood patterns dissipated, and Siming and others finally broke free!
Siming stood up, and with a slight flick of his wrist, a cluster of dark blue flames appeared in his palm.

The Shiranui flames danced between his fingers, emitting a soul-devouring chill.

The firelight illuminated his face, and his smile looked particularly crazy and joyful against the backdrop of shadows and blue flames.

"The game is finally about to reach its climax."

The twin princesses tilted their heads slightly, their blood-red pupils reflecting the incoming shadow thorns, and the corners of their mouths slowly curled up, revealing a meaningful smile.

Their slender fingers pinched slightly, and the air suddenly shook, blood and energy surged, and instantly condensed into a vortex in the air.
It turned into a huge bloody mouth and swallowed the shadow thorn directly.

The entire space was shrouded in blood and deathly silence.

However, they were not angry at the sudden attack, but instead showed some interest.

Their eyes slowly fell on Siming, with strange waves surging in their eyes.
Whispers echoed, as if gods from the abyss were whispering.

"The Weaver of Destiny..."

"Your blood... perhaps, is even sweeter than we imagined."

Sima Ming sneered, with a hint of contempt on his lips, and stepped forward.

Gloomy blue flames spread beneath his feet, burning twisted shadows and interweaving darkness and blood into a feast of death.

His eyes were cold, his voice was low and hoarse, and there was a hint of arrogance that could overturn the bet at any time.

"Then give it a try."

Darkness and flames intertwined, blood swirled in the air, and the smell of killing and hunting spread.

At this moment, the identities of hunter and prey quietly changed.

The gamble of fate—has truly begun.

(End of this chapter)