The Strongest War God - Chapter 1384

Chapter 1384: He is the Enemy of the Whole World

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Inside the Ivory Tower, Braydon Neal stepped through the door, feeling as though he had traversed into another realm.

The endless grassland sprawled before him, alive with fluttering butterflies and the swift passage of hundreds of birds.

As Braydon surveyed his surroundings, his gaze fell upon a stone tablet standing resolute.

Etched upon the ancient black stone was a solitary image, one that seemed to draw the viewer into its depths, hinting at a potent combat technique—an Ivory Tower drawing.

Its promise lay in enhancing one’s martial prowess, a fact that captivated Braydon’s attention.

A commanding voice echoed from above, heralding the commencement of the Ivory Tower’s first round.

Time slipped away in mere breaths as ten heartbeats passed in the blink of an eye.

In the distance, a figure cloaked in green approached with nimble grace.

With a countenance akin to polished jade and a sword slung across his back, the green-clad man expressed mild surprise.

“Ah, a youth from the body-refinement realm dares to challenge the heights of the Ivory Tower?”

“In the Ivory Tower’s first stage, one’s strength must surge a thousandfold. And the second?”

Seated before the stone tablet, Braydon engaged in what seemed like casual conversation as he delved into its intricate details.

The green-robed figure, unperturbed, elucidated the standards for each stage with a faint smile. “On the second stage, the bar is raised to two thousandfold. And so it progresses: three thousandfold for the third level, and onward.”

…

He outlined the daunting benchmarks for advancement, emphasizing the formidable challenge each level posed.

Throughout the tower’s existence, no soul had ever breached its seventh stage.

In essence, it unfurled its gates once every ten millennia, and no individual had surpassed a seven-thousandfold augmentation of their combat prowess.

Achieving a battle prowess seven thousand times greater within the same realm was no small feat.

Not everyone possessed the caliber of King Braydon.

Braydon nodded in acknowledgment, his familiarity with the Ivory Tower granting him a sense of assurance.

With the initial ten levels posing no threat, he approached the challenge with ease.

However, amidst the tower’s offerings, the true gem was the coveted Ivory drawing.

While Braydon himself didn’t hold it in high regard, understanding its significance in amplifying combat strength made it a prized possession in the eyes of the outside world.

“Shall we begin?” the green-robed man prompted, laying out the terms. “Should you best me, the Ivory Tower will grant you a copy of the coveted Ivory drawing.”

Braydon raised a valid point, “If I am able to defeat you, it means that I am able to increase my combat prowess a thousandfold; what merit lies in obtaining this drawing then?”

Unfazed, the green-clad figure elaborated with a smile, “There are further benefits awaiting those who triumph within the tower’s depths.”

“Ah, it seems that there are more advantages than meet the eye,” Braydon remarked, his anticipation growing.

Braydon’s forehead then lit up, and the ancient martial arts banished immortal appeared.

Braydon delegated the task to the ancient martial arts banished immortal, allowing it to take charge.

Meanwhile, outside the tower, Kohen Neal’s furrowed brow betrayed his curiosity regarding Braydon’s progress.

Despite twenty-five minutes having elapsed since entering the first stage, there was no sign of advancement.

Meanwhile, his peers had already progressed to higher stages, leaving Braydon stagnant with only a solitary star to his name, indicating his lingering presence in the initial stage.

For Kohen, the stakes were high, and the anticipation for Braydon’s success weighed heavily.

The potential imbued within the ten-eyed dual-pupils far exceeded that of Wolfhart Neal.

It was almost certain that he would ascend to the seventh stage, setting an unprecedented record.

Kohen’s countenance remained serious, his gaze intermittently shifting toward Braydon’s progression.

“Kohen, is something troubling you?” Carlton Yokley inquired, attempting to alleviate the somber atmosphere. “Your family has produced numerous prodigies. Look at Wolfhart; his future is boundless. If not for your family’s stance on marriage with outsiders, I would have proposed my daughter to him.”

Kohen responded nonchalantly, “It’s not unexpected for Wolfhart to garner such attention.”

“It appears that Wolfhart isn’t the one you hold in highest regard,” Carlton prodded further before being interrupted by a sudden exclamation.

“Look at the second level! Who’s that?”

“Goodness gracious! Lighting up three stars consecutively and clearing three stages in just fifteen minutes—this is extraordinary!”

“He’s from the Neal family, a genius I recall. Wolfhart Neal occupies the top, while this newcomer is on the second level. Jaromir Neal is on the third level!”

“Could it be that the Neal family’s hidden genius has emerged?”

“I can’t say for certain, but he’s undoubtedly a prodigious talent. He’s already reached the fourth stage!”

…

The murmurs and speculations echoed among the bystanders outside the tower, those who hadn’t yet undergone the trial or had been eliminated watching intently.

Four of the thirteen stars on the second level now glimmered, courtesy of Braydon’s remarkable feat.

After a leisurely start on the first stage, Braydon finally began his ascent in earnest.

Within just fifteen minutes, he effortlessly breached three stages, progressing rapidly to the sixth stage.

And in the blink of an eye, he charged toward the seventh.

Outside the Ivory Tower, a wave of astonishment swept through the crowd as they witnessed Braydon’s unprecedented pace.

It had been years since the Spirit Sea witnessed such a prodigy—an awe-inspiring talent that sent shockwaves through the realm.

Throughout the ten openings over the ten thousand years, no examinee had surpassed the seventh stage.

Yet, in a stunning turn of events, a mysterious youth from the Neal family effortlessly ascended to this pinnacle.

A cacophony erupted, fueling discussions far and wide.

“Why haven’t we heard of any geniuses from the Neal family before?”

“What’s so surprising about a Neal family genius? Remember the ten-eyed dual-pupil individual born among them? If not for the Hall of Souls’ interference, Thirteenth Master might still be among us, equally astounding.”

“Thirteen brought his fate upon himself. At just seventeen, he disregarded the Spirit Sea’s norms, challenging elders and slaying guardians of order. His demise was inevitable.”

“True, but when Thirteen was alive, he wouldn’t have spared us a glance.”

“Thirteen is history now, and the Neal family has birthed a new genius. What a formidable lineage.”

“Care to guess if he’ll conquer the seventh stage?”

…

The chatter among the younger generation seemed endless, as Braydon’s meteoric rise eclipsed all other prodigies from the other major factions.

In the presence of such a dominant figure, the brilliance of others paled in comparison, akin to the hush that falls when a lone bird enters a forest.

Kohen’s tense expression eased, his voice softening as he murmured, “Braydon, the seventh stage is just a stepping stone. The family expects greater feats from you.”

“Kohen, are you still trying to keep things hidden?” Carlton interjected, extending congratulations to Kohen.

Kohen glanced over, his sword held casually as he remarked, “Just another ten-eyed dual-pupil from my family. Carlton, why do you have to keep asking?”

“What?” Carlton’s eyes widened in disbelief.

The leaders of the neighboring factions reacted with shock.

Another ten-eyed dual-pupil emerging from the Neal family?

It seemed absurd.

Had the Neal family suddenly discovered a secret to breeding geniuses?

The frequency of such extraordinary births in this generation defied logic.

Just a few decades ago, Thirteen had captivated the Spirit Sea with his brilliance.

And now, it appeared another Thirteen had arisen.

“Kohen,” the leader of the Stone familyspoke with a hint of malice, “the aristocrats produce only one ten-eyed dual-pupil every 10,000 years. Since Thirteen’s passing, how could another such prodigy have emerged? Could he have returned from death?”

His words dripped with provocation, stirring up old grudges.

Thirteen had made countless enemies during his time, earning the ire of many beyond the thirteen disciples of the Spirit Sea.