Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 73: A journey lost in the endless fog

"Direction is an illusion, and the Sea of ​​Dreams excels at making people realize this."

“When you’re not sure you’re moving forward, you’re already standing still.”

The Lost slowly sailed out of Deep Tide Harbor, its canvas bulging, the deck shaking slightly, and the air filled with the slightly salty scent of sea water and old wood.

The crew stood on the deck, looking into the distance, but they could only see the thick fog swallowing up the sky and everything behind them.

At first, they could rely on the dim light of the beacon tower to barely identify the direction, but as the ship sailed into the unknown sea,
That bit of light seemed to be wiped out silently and completely disappeared in the thick fog.

Siming looked up at the sky. The gray fog was like an upside-down sea, engulfing the entire sky. The light was weakened to a dim layer, like an eternal dusk.

He didn't like this feeling, neither bright nor dark, as if everything was hidden behind a thin veil, waiting for someone to accidentally lift it.

Ian stood on the observation deck, constantly adjusting the angle of the telescope, trying to penetrate the thick fog.

But no matter which direction you look from, all you see is endless paleness, as if floating at the end of the world.

He tried to find a reference point, but there was no guide in this sea. Even the waves seemed to be still, blurring the boundary between reality and illusion.

Rex frowned and looked down at the nautical compass - the needle was spinning wildly and irregularly, as if there was no direction at all in this sea.

The wind blew the sails and the sea water gently slapped the side of the boat. However, they had no way of telling whether they were still moving forward or trapped in an invisible cage.

Alison's hand quietly tightened around the sword at her waist. The sharp blade felt a familiar coldness through the scabbard, and her intuition told her that this was not an ordinary sea area.

They had entered some kind of uncharted territory, a space not governed by common sense.

"...Calvino, are we really moving forward?" Siming finally couldn't help but speak, his tone a little uneasy.

Calvino didn't look up, his hands still firmly gripping the rudder, his tone calm and almost indifferent: "If we are not moving forward... then what are we doing?"

There was a brief moment of silence on the deck, and everyone was silent.

They could feel the sea breeze and hear the sound of waves hitting the hull, but when they tried to find the way they came, they found that there was only an endless sea of ​​fog behind them.

Even Ian's telescope couldn't capture even a hint of light.

Celian took a deep breath and looked back, but could only see pale mist rolling.

It was as if some invisible creature was slowly devouring reality, dragging them and the Lost into the abyss.

"This fog... isn't right." Alison whispered, her knuckles slightly white, and there was a hint of oppression in her voice.

Siming wanted to make a few jokes, but at this moment, his eyes suddenly froze -

He looked down at the sea, his heart suddenly tightening.

What is surging on the sea is not the sea water, but a deep starry sky.

The dark vortex spun slowly, with stars twinkling in it, as if the sky was reflected on the water, or perhaps their entire ship was floating in the void of the universe.

At that moment, his consciousness produced an extremely terrifying illusion—

They were not sailing on the sea, but standing on a broken deck suspended in the void. In the next second, they would fall into the endless abyss and be completely swallowed by the sea of ​​stars.

"Wait..." Siming muttered to himself, his voice trembling slightly, and his body instinctively took a step back.

Rex seemed to have noticed something. He slowly put down the telescope and asked in a low voice, "Where are our shadows?"

Ian's eyes subconsciously swept to the deck, and then he froze.

The shadow of the Lost disappeared.

The dark shadow that should have been reflected on the water seemed to be erased at this moment.
The people on the deck, the masts, the sides of the ship, all left no shadow, as if their existence had been stripped away from reality.

"This...how is it possible?" Alison's pupils shrank slightly, and she suddenly looked up at Calvino, as if waiting for his explanation.

However, Calvino still held the rudder calmly with a calm look, as if all this was normal.

"It's normal." Lilia leaned casually on the railing, her red hair floating gently in the wind.
There was no emotion in his tone, "The Sea of ​​Dreams doesn't like shadows."

Everyone was stunned.

Sea of ​​Dreams, don’t like shadows?
Are they still at sea?
Or have they entered a realm that is not part of reality?
The sea breeze was changing strangely.

At first, it blew from the left, ruffling Siming's hair, but in the blink of an eye, it blew suddenly from the right, as if someone was changing the direction of the wind, lifting a corner of his clothes.

Before he could adapt to this unstable airflow, the wind behind him suddenly pushed him forward, and the next moment, it turned into a headwind attacking him from the front.

Siming stood on the deck, took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down. However, this change was too abnormal.

The wind shouldn't change direction so quickly and repeatedly, nor should it be so disorderly as if it were controlled by some conscious creature.

Rex's voice came from the observation deck, revealing a hint of unease: "The wind direction... is changing erratically."

Ian narrowed his eyes, staring at the sail on the mast that was constantly swelling and then suddenly loosening, frowning: "It won't allow us to sail smoothly."

Alison stood by the side of the boat, her hands gripping the railing slightly, her eyes as sharp as a knife: "This wind... is unreliable."

The wind continued to shift, its chaotic drafts stirring up dust on the deck and ruffling the sailors' clothing. Even more terrifying, whispers began to emerge from the wind. At first, they were only faintly audible, like the subtle echoes left by the wind brushing against the mast, making one wonder if they were illusions.

But soon, the whispers became clearer, as if someone was whispering in my ear.

“…Come back…”

“…Sleep…”

"…Your home is here…"

Siming's heart suddenly sank. He subconsciously turned around and scanned the deck, trying to find the source of the sound.

But everything around him seemed normal. The crew members were still busy adjusting the sails. No one showed any abnormality, as if he was the only one who heard the whispers.

He licked his dry lips and asked tentatively, "Hey, did you hear that?"

no respond.

Alison just frowned and gave him a look with a warning in it, as if reminding him not to delve into it.

But at this moment, Rex suddenly froze, as if nailed to the spot by something. He stared at the thick fog in the distance through the telescope, his lips trembling slightly.

"What's that?" He said in a voice so low it was almost inaudible.

Siming's heart sank suddenly and he followed his gaze.

In the thick fog, a huge ghost ship is slowly emerging.

It floated silently on the sea, its black hull hidden in the depths of the fog, emitting a distorted hazy feeling.
It's as if it doesn't really exist, but is just an illusion that has been barely pieced together into this reality.

The sail on the mast was slightly inflated, but the sea was calm, with no sign of the ship breaking through the waves.

It's not like "sailing" but more like "floating", wandering among the fog in an incomprehensible way.

Even more bizarre is——

It has no lights.

Swaying shadows could be vaguely seen on the deck, but their specific outlines could not be discerned, as if ghosts from the past were still wandering around the ship, performing a drama that no one could understand.

"Ghost ship..." Baroque murmured softly, his fingers slowly tightened, tightly gripping the throwing axe at his waist.

Calvino stared at the ship with a deep gaze and said softly: "Perhaps it doesn't exist at all."

Ian frowned slightly: "What do you mean?"

Calvino's voice was slow and calm: "One of the taboos of the Sea of ​​Dreams is not to be curious."

His fingers gently stroked the rudder, his eyes still fixed on it, as if reminding everyone not to look too much or think too much.

“What we see in the fog may not be real.”

Ian was slightly startled, opened his mouth, and wanted to say something, but suddenly his whole body froze, and the look in his eyes changed in an instant.

Surprise, nostalgia, confusion... as if he saw something extremely familiar.

"That's...that's my ship." He whispered, taking an involuntary step forward.

"Stop!" Alison's voice pierced the air like a sharp blade. She drew her sword suddenly, a cold light flashed, and the blade blocked Ian.

Ian froze in his tracks. He stared at Alison blankly, his eyes filled with confusion. "But...that's my boat."

“No, that’s not it.” Calvino’s voice remained calm, but with a hint of undeniable authority in his tone. “It just uses your memory.”

Ian's eyes suddenly opened wide, his breathing became heavier, and his pupils constricted, as if he had just broken free from a deep hypnosis.

He once again looked towards the ghost ship in the distance—

It still floated in the mist, the sails on the masts moving without wind, shadows wandering on the deck, and the vague outlines seemed to be waving at them, as if inviting them to come aboard.

But this time, Ian's vision had become clear. He stared at the ship, then suddenly looked away and stopped looking.

The ghost ship seemed to sense the escape of its prey. The whole ship shook slightly, the sails trembled slightly, and the shadows on the deck swayed.

Then, it slowly sank into the mist, as if it had never existed, and disappeared from their sight.

The sea remained calm.

The Lost was still sailing, but the crew's breathing became heavy, and there was an indescribable chill in the air.

Is all this an illusion of the sea of ​​dreams or a distortion of reality?
Siming stared silently into the distance. The thick fog was still swirling, as if mocking their insignificance.

He exhaled slowly and whispered, "...Where the hell have we stepped into?"

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(End of this chapter)