The Strongest War God

All around, the spirit beasts vanished, terror driving the beast tide to scatter in retreat.

Naturally, spirit beasts feared heavenly lightning, but Braydon Neal had summoned ten thousand thunder strikes—a thunderstorm transcending mere thunder.

This was a heavenly lightning tribulation, an awe-inspiring force that left no creature untouched.

In the blink of an eye, ten thousand thunderbolts cascaded from the heavens, saturating the hundred-mile radius with crackling electricity.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Thunder reverberated, shaking the very earth beneath Machusa, causing simple structures to crumble and birds to plummet from the sky.

The onslaught flattened hills, reduced vegetation to ash, and scorched the ground to charred remains, leaving behind a landscape ravaged by devastation.

Within the hundred-mile radius, the land sank ten meters, and every spirit beast met its demise—save for three eighth-level holdouts who fled in terror.

Desperate to escape, the shadow eagle beat its wings furiously, attempting to flee Braydon’s wrath.

Yet, Braydon would not relent.

Eighth-level spirit beasts could become supreme spirit beasts.

So what?

If the Northern King wanted to kill them, none of the spirit beasts tonight would be able to survive!

Tonight’s battle was enough to intimidate all the demonic beasts within a radius of several hundred miles. They would not dare to attack Machusa for a hundred years!

A hundred years of peace.

It was naturally worth it.

Braydon continued using the Spirit Summoning Art to chase after the shadow eagle. “Spirit Summoning Art, eight hundred stellar stars!”

Braydon invoked the Stellar Combat Technique, Emperor Soho’s Combat Technique.

This was what Luke Yates had learned.

After Braydon invoked the Spirit Summoning Art, a sudden backlash seized him.

Blood spurted from his throat as his spirit swiftly dwindled.

Above, 800 ethereal stars materialized.

“Fake stars!” Braydon exclaimed incredulously. “They’re all fake!”

In an instant, Braydon gazed skyward as if attempting to pierce the veil of dark clouds obscuring the distant moon.

Finally, in a low, raspy voice, he muttered, “Fake moon!”

Yuri Qualls and the other lieutenant commanders rushed to his side, witnessing Braydon’s profusely bleeding lips—a clear sign of severe injury.

The consequences of invoking the Spirit Summoning Monarch Art were grave indeed.

Though visibly wounded, Braydon signaled his resilience, nodding his head slightly to reassure them.

He seemed to have discovered a shocking secret.

With the beast tide danger averted, he gave up pursuit of the shadow eagle, retreating to the city lord’s mansion courtyard.

He stood beneath the eaves, fixating his gaze on the starry expanse above.

Throughout the night, Braydon remained there, his thoughts a mystery to all.

Yet, amidst his contemplation, he unearthed the most profound deception lurking within the ruins.

In the starry tapestry of the ruins’ night sky, every star was fake.

These fake stars, like grains of sand, obscured the celestial canvas.

While others remained oblivious, Braydon, after using the Spirit Summoning Art, discerned the truth—all 800 stars were fake.

The ruins had existed for countless years.

However, no one had discovered this secret.

As he delved deeper, Braydon sensed an ominous truth: the ruins concealed countless secrets, each more menacing than the last.

As dawn broke, a presence entered the courtyard, catching Braydon’s attention.

“What’s the matter, Cole?” Braydon inquired softly.

“Today, Yuri is personally escorting the injured soldiers home. Are you planning to visit Heather?”

Cole Colbie prodded gently before adding, “With Frediano on guard, capable of challenging a quasi-emperor, you can depart without worry.”

“I do wish to leave, but there are those who may oppose it,” Braydon murmured softly, a sense of foreboding lingering.

His intuition proved keen as Cole’s keen gaze discerned a bronze vessel emerging from the east against the morning sky.

The sight of the bronze vessel puzzled Cole, but Braydon recognized it immediately—the Oracle Palace’s bronze ship.

Now, departure wasn’t simple.

The entirety of the Northern Army was stationed in the 16th ruin.

Abandoning them wasn’t an option.

Negotiating with the Oracle Palace was imperative.

Inside the 16th ruin, the Oracle Palace wielded significant influence. There was a 16th Great Divine Priest, a position passed down from generation to generation.

For the Oracle Palace, acquiring a martial arts banished immortal was paramount, offering insights into the secrets of eternal life.

This was Braydon’s invaluable bargaining chip.

Moments later, the bronze ship loomed over Machusa, sparking apprehension among its inhabitants.

“The Oracle commands us to receive the Divine Lord’s descendant,” announced the hundred-strong entourage as they disembarked, led by a striking woman with fiery hair—Xetsa Yeza, the Oracle Palace’s Divine Priest.

Accompanying her were six influential figures, including the Donta Imperial Dynasty’s special envoy, Sule Yengo, and the Zunde Royal Dynasty’s city lord, Fela Yengo, alongside the Oracle Palace’s own gods, the warlock emperors.

Their arrival signaled significant diplomatic weight.

Xetsa took the lead as they approached the city, heading straight for Braydon.

Her lips parted slightly as she spoke, “I, Xetsa Yeza of the Oracle Palace, representing the 16th ruin, extend a warm welcome to the Young Divine Lord of the Ancestral Land in the Divine Emptiness Realm!”

“Greetings, Young Divine Lord,” echoed the six accompanying figures, lacking any hint of reverence.

It was evident that the martial arts banished immortal instilled fear in these individuals.

Braydon, sensing the lack of respect, uttered softly, “It’s a sin not to kneel in my presence.”

His words brought silence to the gathering, comprising exclusively of high-ranking dignitaries.

Fela, clad in a python robe representing the Zunde Royal Dynasty, stepped forward, addressing Braydon, “Young Divine Lord, allow us to kneel…”

“Those not of the gods have no right to offer reverence,” Braydon interjected lightly, causing Fela’s expression to freeze.

Fela was the Zunde Royal Dynasty’s lord and the eldest son of the Donta Imperial Dynasty’s lord.

He wielded immense power.

Who dared to disrespect him?

Yet Braydon understood that these so-called aboriginal royal and imperial dynasties merely served as pawns for the Oracle Palace.

And the Oracle Palace was nothing more than the dogs raised in the Ancestral Land.

Among Xetsa’s entourage stood Inspector Lyapo Dubazane from the Zunde Royal Dynasty, who remained silent amid the exchange.

“Lyapo, you mentioned encountering individuals from the Ancestral Land. Where are they now?” Fela inquired.

“I’m not certain,” Lyapo responded, unable to discern Gideon Zavala’s whereabouts.

He was not lying though.

Xetsa and the others harbored no further suspicions.

Given Lyapo’s status as an inspector and a formidable emperor, there was no reason for him to deceive anyone.

Moreover, there were no discernible benefits to doing so.

Braydon’s eyes gleamed with intensity.

These individuals knew about him because they had encountered individuals from the so-called ancestral land.

But who exactly hailed from there?

Braydon broke into a cold sweat, realizing that a super expert had been in close proximity, yet he hadn’t detected their presence at all.

Within Braydon’s spiritual aperture, the green-robed man spoke, “Indeed, someone from the Ancestral Land made an appearance earlier. I can’t ascertain their identity. Nonetheless, a presence from the Ancestral Land has always been constant. This is because I am the guardian of the key that grants access to and from the Ancestral Land.”

Among the myriad ruins, only the owner of the first ruin held the key to the Ancestral Land. Only he had the ability to enter the Ancestral Land, and that key rested securely in the hands of the green-clothed man.