The Strongest War God - Chapter 1401

Chapter 1401: A Sword Piercing Through the Chest

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

If he managed to secure a high-level saint weapon, it could be exchanged for a wealth of cultivation resources and techniques compatible with its caliber.

Such items were exceedingly rare, even within the Spirit Sea Neal family, where they were in short supply.

Understanding Fontane Neal’s intentions, Braydon Neal responded, “I ventured into the Spirit Sea under the family’s protection. If the family requires my assistance, I am at their service.”

These words brought a sense of relief to Fontane.

The fear of nurturing an ingrate, someone who would squander the family’s resources without gratitude, loomed large in the minds of faction leaders.

Thankfully, Braydon did not fit that mold.

He pledged to aid the Neal family whenever needed.

However, the presence of the holy master-level sword’s deadly aura posed a dire threat to any saint realm martial artist–let alone Braydon, who remained in the emperor realm.

The emergence of such a prestigious artifact had stirred a significant upheaval.

Braydon believed that within half a day, it would attract a swarm of experts, demanding a hefty price to access the treasures concealed within the tomb.

Already, hundreds of individuals had congregated in the surrounding waters–roaming cultivators and representatives of powerful factions alike.

Braydon grimaced, realizing he could not afford to wait any longer.

With each passing moment, the likelihood of facing an eminent saint or a holy master increased, making it increasingly improbable for him to seize any treasures within.

Braydon was determined to seize everything within the tomb, knowing that delaying would only work against him.

Privately, Fontane reassured him, “Family reinforcements are on their way. There’s no need to rush.”

Concerned about the potential outcome, Braydon responded, “If we wait too long and divide the spoils among all the arriving factions, the Neal family will gain little.”

Ultimately, Fontane offered sage advice, “Braydon, balance is key. Consider the saint weapons below. If the Neal family monopolizes them, we risk alienating the Spirit Sea’s factions overnight.”

He continued, explaining the importance of alliances and shared benefits among factions of similar stature.

Braydon grasped the significance of these insights immediately.

In a landscape dominated by ten major factions, those outside this elite circle knew better than to challenge them.

Attempting to disrupt the status quo would be a foolhardy endeavor.

Braydon’s pride and independence were well-established traits, forged over years of defiance against the northern territory’s rivals.

Yet, as he matured, his priorities shifted, embracing familial responsibilities and a more measured approach.

Thus, despite his past bravado, Braydon had learned to temper his actions, especially in the last couple of years.

Since becoming a father, Braydon’s once formidable killing aura had noticeably diminished.

It was hard to forget his teenage years when he single-handedly vanquished millions of enemies in the northern desert.

Back then, he was revered as the Northern King, his every word a military decree.

But now, in the Spirit Sea, his Northern King’s aura was a mystery to all.

“Give me fifteen minutes, Third Ancestor. If I can discreetly secure all the saint weapons, I’ll do so,” Braydon asserted, his resolve unwavering.

Yet, he was prepared to defer to Fontane’s caution if necessary.

Fontane’s expression reflected his concern; he couldn’t bear to see Braydon endangered.

As valuable as a holy master weapon was, Braydon’s safety was paramount.

He represented the Neal family’s aspirations–their path to dominance in the Spirit Sea.

While Fontane remained concealed, Braydon, donning his silver mask and white attire, stood conspicuously alone, drawing the gaze of onlookers.

Yet, no one dared provoke this lone figure; his aura spoke volumes.

Indeed, those with influential backers had already sought their elders’ counsel.

When reinforcements arrived, these lone wolves would retreat to the sidelines.

Challenging a superpower was tantamount to suicide.

Swiftly, Braydon plunged into the Spirit Sea, prompting speculation among bystanders.

“What’s he up to?” questioned a bewildered youth nearby.

“Is he after the saint sword?” gasped another in disbelief.

The people present weren’t naive; they keenly sensed the sword Qi’s dread.

Even a saint realm cultivator would struggle against such formidable force–let alone Braydon.

Many dismissed Braydon’s actions as reckless.

As Braydon submerged into the sea, his back was all that outsiders could see.

With his dual-pupils activated, every strand of sword Qi was starkly visible, resembling a relentless tidal surge spanning hundreds of miles.

Its chaotic, dense presence left no room for evasion.

Descending swiftly, Braydon encountered escalating pressure with each meter.

Closer to the seabed, the sword Qi grew denser, cleaving the water into shards.

One such blade, shapeless and colorless but brimming with latent power, approached Braydon.

He couldn’t evade; to do so would expose him to countless other blades lurking nearby.

His only recourse was to confront it head-on.

With a resounding boom, Braydon’s white robe billowed as his aura expanded, creating a vacuum spanning ten miles in every direction.

Braydon’s black hair swirled in the wind.

“Yin and yang take form, taiji unleashes the eight trigrams. Attack!” he commanded.

The Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams materialized before Braydon, a golden Taiji Diagram at its core.

The inner workings of the Eight Trigrams shifted continuously.

But within the martial arts banished immortal’s spiritual aperture, there was an enraged shout.

“High-level saint weapon, a holy master’s weapon. The Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams alone won’t suffice. I’ll take control. You retreat into the Star Tower.”

“I’d rather not witness you risking everything again,” Braydon replied casually.

Back in the Oracle Palace, in order to get rid of Rayha Qhobela, Braydon and the martial arts banished immortal had both lost their composure.

The latter had sacrificed his spirituality to immerse in the sensation, summoning two significant figures through the Spirit Summoning Art, depleting his spirituality entirely in the process.

It was akin to self-obliteration for a banished immortal.

Braydon was adamant about avoiding a repetition of such a scenario.

“If you perish, we all perish,” the martial arts banished immortal warned coldly. “Come, I’ll take control. Let others witness the fruits of your five-year seclusion within the Star Tower.”

During Braydon’s six months of seclusion, the three banished immortals had remained within the Star Tower for five years.

Such a duration surely marked a significant breakthrough in the martial arts banished immortal’s journey, resulting in a tremendous surge in his combat prowess by tens of thousands fold.

Unified in their consciousness, Braydon and the three banished immortals could instantly communicate and share knowledge with each other.