Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 75: Ghost in the Tide
"As night falls, the dead awaken, and their roars echo in the tide."

"The fate of pirates is to die at sea, but they refuse to sleep."

The night fell heavily on the sea of ​​dreams, and the thick fog was like an invisible curtain, wrapping the world in a distorted silence.

The sea was dead silent; even the sound of the waves seemed to be swallowed up, becoming dull and distant, as if all sounds were absorbed by the nightmare in the night.

The Lost hovered quietly above the boundless sea, its hull gliding silently like a ghost, the dim lights on the deck illuminating every solemn face.

The wind stopped, and the sails on the masts drooped limply. Even the most discerning lookout, Rex, frowned and stared at the endless darkness in the distance.

"There's something wrong with the air," Rex whispered. He squatted down, placed his fingers lightly on the deck, closed his eyes, and felt the vibrations of the ship. But there was nothing.

All I could feel at my fingertips was an eerie calmness, without even the slightest shake.

He suddenly opened his eyes, his breathing a little stagnant: "The ship... stopped?"

This is impossible. Even if it is a ghost ship, the Lost should rise and fall slightly with the current.

But at this moment, it seemed to be held up by an invisible hand, motionless, suspended in a dimension that did not belong to reality.

The air became heavy, and the damp mist was filled with a fishy and rotten smell, like blood mixed with rotten seaweed, which slowly seeped into every inch of the air through the mist, making people hold their breath unconsciously.

"Something is approaching." Lilia raised her head suddenly, and the Whale Grave invitation letter in her hand trembled slightly, and faint ripples appeared on the surface of the paper.
A deep echo whispered in her ears, as if some ancient being was warning her of the impending danger.

In the thick fog in the distance, a faint green light emerged, like something lurking in the abyss, slowly rising up, revealing its outline that did not belong to this world.

Calvino stood at the bow, his eyes sharp as a blade, watching the gradually churning tide. His voice was calm and steady: "—Here it comes."

The sea surface began to distort, and a dark wave that did not belong to the normal tide slowly approached. In the rolling black water,
A strange sense of death emerged, and the waves did not seem like ordinary water flows, but more like some relics from a bygone era, full of decay and heavy curses.

Everyone held their breath.

Then they saw something emerging from the tide.

Countless rotting corpses floated up from the sea. They were wearing tattered pirate robes, their bodies riddled with holes from the years and the sea.

Some had only half of their faces left, some had naked heads, with sunken eye sockets where faint blue ghost fire burned.

Their hands tightly grasped the weapons they used in life - scimitars, flintlock rifles, harpoons, and some of the undead even clung to a long-rotted coffin, as if their obsession in life had not yet dissipated.

The corners of their mouths twisted upwards, revealing a smile that was not human.

Their bodies are also unstable. Some of the undead's bodies are constantly broken and re-condensed in the tide, like ghosts imprisoned in eternal reincarnation.

Some of them only show half of their faces, with the other half still submerged under the sea, as if they will float up at any time and jump onto the deck.

Baroque gripped the flying axe tightly in his hand, his eyes as cold as steel: "Undead Pirate."

His voice was low, with a hint of hard-to-disguise wariness.

Calvino said slowly: "Tide of the Dead."

Ian took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly: "What the hell are these guys...?"

Calvino stared at the approaching tide of the dead with a deep gaze, and spoke slowly:
"They were once pirates, but now they are the ghosts of the sea. They are unwilling to die, but they have lost their ship, and they need a new one."

His gaze shifted slightly, landing on the deck beneath his feet, and he spoke in a calm tone:
"And we...are their most suitable target."

The air suddenly solidified.

Rex's fingers involuntarily tightened around the rope, and he finally realized—

From the very beginning, the target of these undead was not just the Lost.

Deep-sea ghost lights flickered in their eyes, and what they longed for were the living souls on the deck.

The bodies of the undead gradually emerged from the surging tide, their shells broken, bones exposed, and blue ghost fire burning in their eye sockets.

They opened their rotten mouths and let out hollow and cold roars, like the dead who had crossed countless years, announcing their return to this sleeping sea.

The tide surged, the dark waves lifting them up like a giant, twisted hand. The next moment, countless undead pirates leaped from the water, dragging cursed weapons as they madly charged towards the Lost.

Alison's eyes turned cold, and she instinctively drew the flintlock rifle from her waist. Her voice was crisp and decisive: "Calvino, request artillery fire."

Calvino simply glanced at her calmly, his gaze chillingly calm. His voice was low, yet filled with undeniable authority: "You may test the cannon."

Alison nodded slightly, turned and walked towards the artillery position, her eyes as sharp as a knife:
"All gunners in position, target - sea surface, distance 50 yards, scatter bombs ready!"

The ghost crew responded silently, and the translucent figures quickly adjusted the gun positions and loaded the ammunition.

Their movements were skillful and precise, as if they had not forgotten their duties even in death.

Rex stood on the observation deck and shouted, "Target locked!"

Alison raised her right hand without hesitation—

"—Fire!"

The next second, artillery roared!

Brilliant flames bloomed in the darkness, and the shells tore through the air with violent impact force and slammed into the sea tide.

The shockwave swept in all directions, the thick fog was blasted apart, the dark sea water instantly boiled, and dozens of undead were blown to pieces by the impact of the explosion.
The black corrupt liquid splashed across the sea surface, turning into a rapidly spreading shadow.

But soon, the sea surged, and the shattered undead slowly condensed and took shape again in the dark tide.

They will not be easily eliminated.

Alison calmly lowered her hand, her eyes darkening slightly. "Everyone, enter combat mode."

The battle on deck is about to begin.

Baroque pulled out the throwing axe from his waist, licked the corner of his mouth, and revealed a bloodthirsty smile: "Finally, it's my turn to stretch my muscles."

Before he finished speaking, he waved his hand and summoned a skeleton warrior in a tattered sailor suit - a deep-sea fisherman, who jumped onto the deck with a spear in hand and fought alongside him.

The first blow, Baroque's flying axe chopped down fiercely, and the head of an undead instantly split open, black liquid splashed all over the deck, and the dead body twitched and fell down.

But the next second, its remains began to wriggle and reorganize under the influence of the sea fog.

Ian's figure flashed, and he moved lightly among the undead, avoiding those rotten claws. He waved his hand suddenly, summoning a twisted black tentacle -

Nightmare tentacles rose from the deck, lashing the approaching undead frantically. The corrosive power of the tentacles caused the undead's body to begin to disintegrate.
The targets that were hit fell into sluggishness and drowsiness, as if being dragged into the abyss by a heavy nightmare.

Rex stood on the commanding heights, quickly reloaded his bullets, and summoned the Undead Ghost Marine Corporal.
A ghost warrior with a blue glow all over his body appeared beside him, raised his rifle, and fired continuously at the undead zombies.

Rex's pupils shrank slightly, his gaze locked onto the strongest individual in the undead group. He slowly adjusted the muzzle of his gun, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.

boom!
With a gunshot, the undead's head was hit accurately. The blue ghost fire trembled violently and then went out. The undead who lost its head fell down like a broken rag doll and completely turned into black mist and dissipated.

Siming stood on the deck, gently stroking the cards in his hand with his fingertips, and then suddenly swung them.
The card drew a sharp arc in the air, spinning and cutting through the shoulder of an undead. Its arm was instantly broken and fell to the side.

Siming jumped up and shook his hands. More cards flew across his fingertips. Each card turned into a sharp cold light, shuttled among the undead, and brought about bursts of black blood rain.

Lilia stood at the bow, holding the invitation to the Whale Grave tightly in both hands. Her heart was beating wildly and she could feel the card trembling in her hand.

She looked across the deck at the distant sea. The number of undead... was increasing.

Her breathing paused slightly, and she said in a deep voice, "These undead... their numbers are still increasing."

Calvino still stood at the helm, watching the battle with indifference. His voice was low and calm: "This is just the beginning."

In the darkness, the tide of the dead is still surging, and the whispers of the undead mixed with the sea breeze, echoing in this twisted nightmare sea.

The Lost has been besieged by the dead.

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(End of this chapter)