Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 49 The End of the Blood Feast
"The night will eventually give way to the dawn, and the lingering sound of blood will sing a desperate elegy in the sunlight."

The afterglow of blood lingered in the air, and the departure of the twin princesses was like a curtain slowly falling, announcing that this long feast had finally come to an end.

The future of the vampires has been rewritten. The Eternal Night Blood Alliance is no longer under the control of any god. Only the figure of the Grand Duke the Impaler stands on the throne.

Delrat Bloody Night Tyrant slowly sat back on his throne, the obsidian carved armrests as cold as ever.

Only the scarlet spear leaning against the throne, with the blood of the twin princesses still dripping from its tip, showed that the gods had been humiliated and expelled here, becoming history.

Before his eyes, all the vampires who had never pledged allegiance to him knelt on the ground, their bodies trembling slightly with fear, like a group of livestock waiting to be slaughtered, holding their breath and listening to the upcoming judgment.

Among them, the most terrified was Viola, the Blood Marquis of East Town.

Her hands were tightly gripping the ground, her nails digging into the cold stone bricks, blood seeping from her fingertips, her face was as pale as paper, her lips were trembling slightly, and even breathing seemed to be a torture.

She knew she couldn't escape.

This former "Bloody Night Tyrant", the king she once respected and feared, was never best at being merciful, but at spreading despair.

She mustered up her last bit of courage and whispered hoarsely, almost begging, "Your Majesty... I am willing to offer everything... I beg for your forgiveness..."

However, the high and mighty king merely shook the blood wine in his hand slightly, leaning lazily on the throne, his eyes as cold as the frost under the night sky, as if he was examining an insignificant farce.

"forgive?"

He murmured to himself, his voice low and distant, with a hint of careless weariness, as if the hustle and bustle of the night had made him extremely tired.

His gaze fell into the cup, and the reflection of the blood wine revealed countless desperate eyes, those enemies he had buried with his own hands during his long immortal years.
Those fools who tried to challenge him, those prey who fell in the thousand-year bloody battle...all of them are sleeping peacefully in this scarlet abyss.

He sighed softly, a hint of sarcasm on the corner of his mouth.

"Dawn is coming."

As the words fell, the blood wine in the cup tilted, and a drop of bright red slid down the edge of the cup, like a solidified wail of the past.

He raised his hand, waved it slightly, and whispered, "Take them to the square, just like we did back then."

Deathly silence enveloped the entire hall.

Those vampires who had been loyal to the Twin Princesses still had a glimmer of hope. They thought that as long as they bowed their heads and gave up their dignity, they could still survive.

However, the reality is cruel.

When the Duke uttered the words "same as before", everyone's heart seemed to be tightly clenched, a chill ran through their spines to their limbs, their blood froze, and some people even couldn't help trembling in despair.

They were not afraid of death, but what they feared was the punishment of the Grand Duke the Impaler, which was more terrible than death.

Their bodies are shaking and their souls are collapsing.

"Your Majesty!" Viola kowtowed violently, her forehead hitting the ground heavily, blood spreading on her pale skin.

Her voice was trembling and shrill, "Please give us a chance! We are willing to swear allegiance!"

Her voice echoed in the silent hall, but all she got in response was a cold command.

Karel, the Blood Marquis of West Town, stared at her quietly. There was no trace of pity in his deep blood-red eyes, only the absolute loyalty of a knight to his king.

He slowly drew out his sword, and the sharp blade reflected the remaining candlelight, flashing a cold light.

"As you wish, Your Majesty." He bowed deeply to the man on the throne, then waved his hand and said in a cold tone, "Drag him away."

"Send them up before dawn."

The wails of the vampires echoed in the corridors. The sounds of struggle, crying, and the metallic friction of chains were intertwined, like a dirge that was about to come to an end.

Viola struggled frantically, her nails leaving claw marks on the ground, blood flowing across her white knuckles, her body trembling violently, deep fear appearing in her eyes.

She knew that the fate that was about to come for her... would be endless suffering.

She turned around and looked at the man on the throne for the last time.

Her eyes were full of pleading, like a former knight begging for forgiveness from the king.

She hoped to see a trace of pity, a trace of hesitation, a trace of mercy, even if it was just charity...

But the man on the throne had already closed his eyes, and the spear in his hand tapped the ground lightly, as if playing a deep requiem for the vampires.

He no longer gave them any attention.

The morning light is just breaking, and the bloody embers have not yet cooled.

The long-silent Blood Castle welcomed the long-awaited light, but that light was not a gift of warmth, but a ruthless burning sacrifice.

Siming and his companions emerged from the shadowed hall and reached the square that had once been a symbol of the vampires' glory—now, a place of execution. Piercing spears towered tall, their cold light reflecting the rising sun. Those vampires who had sworn allegiance to the Twin Princesses were impaled one by one on their pinnacles.

Their limbs were pierced by heavy iron nails, and their naked bodies trembled slightly on the iron rods. Blood slowly dripped down the metal and gathered into a dark stain on the ground.

The morning light penetrated the thick clouds, and the first ray of sunlight fell on their skin.

White smoke suddenly rose, accompanied by the instinctive screams of the vampires.

“Aaaaaaa——!!”

Their flesh and blood scorched in the sun, and their skin began to crack, like paper licked by flames. The air was filled with a burnt smell. They twisted their bodies wildly, letting out inhumane howls.

Among them, Viola's figure is particularly conspicuous.

Her golden hair had long been soaked with blood and sweat. Her once proud pupils had now lost their luster. Her lips moved slightly, as if she was whispering a prayer or crying softly.

But no one listened to her confession.

Her gods have been banished, and her king has already pronounced her fate.

This is the way of the Grand Duke of the Impaler - in this world, only the wailing of the enemy can make the king sleep peacefully.

Siming stopped and stared at the scene quietly, his eyes were deep and his emotions were difficult to discern.

Beside him, Celian chuckled.

Her voice was soft, with a hint of careless joy, as if she was indulging in the sweetest dream.

"Father's favorite lullaby."

Her bloodshot eyes reflected a blazing flame. She tilted her head slightly, her tone full of satisfaction.

"The enemy's wailing can help him sleep more peacefully."

Sima Ming remained silent. He was not a saint, and he would not feel any unnecessary pity for the deaths of these people.

But this scene... is still chilling.

Natasha and Loren exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with complex emotions. Even the battle-hardened Loka frowned slightly, his gaze heavy.

They finally realized—

The reason they were standing here alive was not because of the Duke's mercy, but simply because they had never become enemies.

If their stance were different, their bodies would now be nailed to these spears, to be burned by the scorching sun.

"Let's go." Siming said in a low voice.

There was no need to stay any longer, there was nothing here worth their while.

They stepped out of the square, facing the morning light, their long shadows stretched across the blood-red bricks.

Until the heavy gate of the Blood Castle behind him slowly closed, sealing all the wailing, blood, despair... in the eternal night.

Before leaving, Siming looked back.

Walking through the corridor, past the remaining bloodstains, his eyes penetrated the dim hall and saw the man on the throne in the distance.

The king who was worshipped by many vampires and regarded as a chess piece by the twin princesses still sat quietly on the throne, gently shaking the blood wine in his hand, with a lazy and casual posture.

He seemed to be asleep, perhaps just taking a nap with his eyes closed.

But Sima Ming knew——

This man's nightmare never ends.

The blood feast is over, the throne is back under control, the old gods are expelled, and the era of the vampires is about to usher in a new order.

Siming and his group are about to set off to continue their journey.

However, this blood feast has already left an indelible mark on the fate of each of them.

The shadow of the vampires is still lurking in the darkness, waiting for the next reversal of fate.

Although the morning light has arrived, the night is still long.

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(End of this chapter)