The Strongest War God

At this moment, Xetsa Yeza felt a surge of anxiety coursing through her!

Braydon Neal halted, locking his gaze with hers.

“I’ve been engrossed in military affairs since childhood. My yearly cultivation barely amounted to a third of my time, and prolonged seclusion wasn’t an option.

“If I go into seclusion for a year, no one in the world would dare to call themselves a prodigy!” Braydon asserted before turning on his heel and striding back to his palace.

The journey to Donta Imperial City would have to wait.

Xetsa watched Braydon’s retreating form, a sense of bewilderment washing over her.

It had been ages since anyone from the Oracle Palace had dared challenge the divine son.

His strength was afterall undeniable.

Frowning, Xetsa vanished in a blink, resolving to report the matter to Rayha Qhobela.

Young Divine Lord Braydon and Divine Son Matu Joko were slated for a life-and-death duel a year hence—a confrontation that would undoubtedly deal a heavy blow to the Oracle Palace, regardless of the outcome.

Finding herself before the palace of the Great Divine Priest, Xetsa hesitated.

“I’m aware of the situation. Let them proceed,” Rayha’s voice echoed from within.

Xetsa halted outside, puzzled by Rayha’s acquiescence.

Inside the palace, the green-clothed figure formed of mental power stood by the window.

“Are you truly allowing this?” he inquired softly.

“We have but one descendant of the Divine Lord. The Oracle Palace can afford to lose a divine son,” Rayha responded calmly.

“Are you certain the boy will emerge victorious?” curiosity laced the green-clad figure’s tone.

“After a year, he’ll either rise as an emperor or fall, unable to shoulder the weight of destiny. If he fails, it means that he will not even be as good as the first Divine Lord when he was young, let alone start a new path of martial arts. If that’s the case, what’s the point of keeping him?” Rayha declared with icy resolve.

If Braydon could become an emperor in a year and defeat Matu, he would create a legend.

If not, his fate was sealed.

Rayha remained steadfast in his decision not to interfere.

The Great Divine Priests of the Oracle Palace had traversed the entirety of the martial arts path, yearning for something new.

Braydon’s emergence and his martial prowess had become the Oracle Palace’s beacon of hope.

Could this spark ignite a blazing fire of hope?

It all hinged on the impending battle a year later.

Success would unveil Braydon’s formidable talent, even earning him some measure of respect from Rayha.

However, if Braydon faltered, Rayha would acquiesce to Matu killing Braydon.

The useless descendants of the Divine Lord posed a threat only to the Oracle Palace’s dominion over the 16th ruin—concerns that barely registered for Rayha.

Perhaps the only individual she cared about was Sadie Dudley.

Beyond that, the pursuit of a new martial path took precedence.

Anyone else could be forsaken, even the divine son of the Oracle Palace, when deemed necessary.

If Matu met his demise, Rayha could readily support another descendent of the gods without much effort.

With over 700 descendants, selecting a new divine son was a trivial task.

As Braydon retreated to his palace, he was left to his solitary contemplation in its cold confines.

Outside, Xetsa’s eyes betrayed her worry.

She was acutely aware of Braydon’s prowess.

With the bloodline of the Green Lotus God coursing through him, his cultivation prowess surpassed that of ordinary martial artists manifold, though it came at a cost.

Ascending to the emperor realm and dispatching Matu within a year seemed highly impossible feats, each laden with staggering challenges.

Having already felt Matu’s strength in their earlier encounter, Braydon knew the daunting task that lay ahead.

The adversary was formidable, but not insurmountable.

Braydon’s aspiration to ascend to the emperor realm was not an impulsive decision.

In the 16th ruin, the Donta Imperial Dynasty and its ten associated royal dynasties boasted a considerable number of emperors.

On the other hand, the Northern Army lacked even a single one—an absence that left Braydon unsettled.

To him, only by attaining the prowess of an emperor and the ability to kill an emperor could he navigate the wilderness spanning thousands of miles and safely return to Jaa’ku.

Surviving in the ruins demanded the strength of an emperor.

Cross-legged in his palace, Braydon meditated with closed eyes, channeling the Great Void of Kylo Art.

Ever since reaching the fifth level of the art, he could daily condense a wisp of purple Qi, bolstering his vitality tenfold.

Simultaneously, as he condensed the purple Qi, Braydon sensed his mental power surging tenfold faster than before, courtesy of the Great Void of Kylo Art.

This observation had first struck him upon advancing to the fourth level of the Great Void of Kylo Art.

His mental power had then entered its fourth stage, capable of materializing mental power, yet the path to attaining the peak of mental power remained long.

Only when his mental power and vitality attained perfection could he break through the final barrier and grasp the great path of the emperor—an endeavor requiring time.

Moreover, Braydon possessed a physique capable of shattering level six spirit artifacts with a single punch, a testament to his formidable vitality, spirit, and physique.

Cultivating these aspects concurrently, Braydon aimed to achieve the emperor realm within a year, methodically honing his vitality and mental power internally, while externally training his physique.

In unison, these endeavors would propel him to the level of an emperor, reaching great success within a year.

In the ruins, it was a rarity to find anyone who had attained the emperor realm solely through physical prowess, traversing the arduous path of strength.

This path was notoriously challenging.

It was rarer to see someone who had achieved the emperor realm through their physical prowess than ancient martial art emperors or martial art emperors.

Furthermore, it demanded not only great difficulty but also a plethora of precious treasures.

Achieving significant progress within a year seemed daunting.

Over the subsequent days, Braydon secluded himself within the palace, abstaining from venturing outside even once.

Immersed in ceaseless cultivation, a layer of dust had settled upon his skin after just a month of relentless dedication.

Cross-legged and motionless, Braydon remained in deep meditation until one dawn, when a surge of mental pressure engulfed the entire palace—his mental power had broken through to the fifth stage.

With this advancement, Braydon’s spiritual aperture radiated with a golden hue, granting him an extraordinary awareness of the vegetation within a hundred-meter radius.

Simultaneously, 30 wisps of purple Qi encircled Braydon, each capable of enhancing one’s vitality by 10,000-fold, totaling a staggering 300,000-fold increment.

Consuming the purple Qi, Braydon felt his blood boil, his body ablaze with newfound vigor akin to a newborn sun.

A continuous flow of vitality was drawn into the red lotus flower adorning his right shoulder.

These three lotuses were accustomed to absorbing Braydon’s vitality, a routine he had grown accustomed to.

With 300,000 Na of vitality, the third red lotus finally reached completion, its form materialized with stamen aflame.

All three flowers had achieved great success.

Suddenly, a resounding boom echoed as the three red lotuses emanated red beams, piercing through the starry expanse.

Braydon’s eyes snapped open, gleaming with a newfound brightness as he sensed a profound connection with the three flowers.

As the completion of the three fire lotuses settled, the red light gradually dimmed.

Petals tenderly encased the stamens, veiling themselves within Braydon’s being, while an insistent desire for power emanated from the lotuses.

It was clear—they hungered for empowerment, and Braydon was their sole provider.