The Strongest War God - Chapter 1405

Chapter 1405: Killing the Informant

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

The Neal family was well aware of their shared desire to eliminate Braydon Neal.

However, the Foreman family had acted with such recklessness and directness that the Neal family held leverage over them.

It was imperative for the Neal family to take action.

Simultaneously, they needed to assert their authority externally while exercising restraint.

“Have Braydon head to the Foremans. I’ll compile a list of all the hidden agents and provide it to you, free of charge,” Gaillard Foreman murmured softly.

Kohen Neal regarded him as if he were a fool.

Sending Braydon into the den of the Foremans?

Would he even return alive?

Gaillard’s expression turned grave.

“Kohen, I’m dead serious. The Foreman family requires Braydon’s assistance. Name your terms!”

“We’ll discuss this later!” Kohen demanded sincerity from Gaillard, a sincerity crucial to the task at hand.

Who was the informant?

“Seumas Neal!” Gaillard uttered the name without a hint of remorse.

With that mere utterance, the spatial mirror shattered, and Gaillard’s image vanished.

Just a name was enough.

Seumas, an eminent saint of the 97th generation of the Neal family, stood among the crowd.

Over 100,000 family members turned their gaze toward the seventh branch.

A middle-aged man with a simple, honest appearance, his face was now deathly pale, his eyes tinged with sadness.

To Gaillard, a pawn like him meant nothing.

He discarded him effortlessly.

Kohen remained indifferent.

Today, this pawn would be removed.

Meanwhile, the leaders of the various branches stood in support behind Kohen.

Zorion Neal, the branch master of the third branch, bellowed furiously, “Seumas! Show yourself!”

A man of modest demeanor emerged from the crowd and knelt before Zorion, too ashamed to meet his gaze.

One person’s rebellion could spell disaster for the entire family.

They would all face repercussions.

The family’s regulations were stringent for a reason.

Without discipline, future dangers could lead to widespread betrayal.

“Why did you betray the Neal family?” Kohen’s voice cut through the tense air, cold and unforgiving.

“Seventy-eight years ago, I was in dire straits in the Ten Thousand Swords Prison. It was there I encountered Lyon Foreman who saved my life,” Seumas confessed hoarsely from his kneeling position.

“For all these years, Lyon Foreman never sought me out. But a month ago, he reached out, claiming the Foreman family faced peril. He pleaded for my help in contacting Braydon. Unable to reach Braydon, they demanded I disclose his whereabouts. In return, they would forgive the debt I owed them for saving my life.”

There was a rationale behind Seumas’s actions, but it mattered little.

He had leveraged Braydon’s safety as payment for a debt owed, betraying the family in the process.

No explanation could mitigate the gravity of his offense.

The family’s rules were as unyielding as they were severe, particularly concerning acts of betrayal.

“Execute him,” Kohen declared with chilling indifference.

As the family head, he couldn’t afford to show favoritism before the assembled multitude of over 100,000.

This time, a harsh example had to be made to deter future transgressions.

He aimed to impress upon everyone the consequences of divulging Braydon’s whereabouts.

That act constituted betrayal.

With a swift motion, Zorion drew his sword himself.

The blade gleamed as it streaked across the sky like a silver ribbon, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

The blade rose, and the head fell.

A hush fell over the square as Seumas met his end.

Immediately afterward, the punishment for the seventh branch was declared.

Kohen’s voice cut through the silence, cold and unwavering. “Zorion of the seventh branch, as branch master, has failed to uphold discipline within his branch, leading to this scandal. Henceforth, Zorion will be banished from the family for a thousand years. All members of the seventh branch will be exiled from the island, forfeiting all privileges and benefits.”

The monthly allocation of cultivation resources served as vital welfare for family members.

Exile meant losing their status as branch family disciples and all accompanying benefits.

Even in death, returning to the family would be nearly impossible.

They would be denied burial in the ancestral land, their names stricken from the genealogical records.

For those raised within the family, expulsion was a harsh fate to bear.

Yet, despite their reluctance, the seventh branch had no choice but to comply.

Rules were rules.

Assuming responsibility for his error, Zorion led his people in packing their belongings, preparing to depart.

Their descendants were permitted to remain within the family, marking the most favorable outcome achievable.

As for Seumas, the traitor’s actions likely implicated numerous individuals.

Kohen had made it clear: he intended to eradicate any group involved in the betrayal.

Such treachery couldn’t be tolerated within the family.

Meanwhile, across the Spirit Sea, news of the birth of a holy master-level weapon had already circulated widely.

Braydon sat cross-legged on the sea’s surface, recuperating from his injuries.

Sensing a familiar presence, he opened his eyes to find Constantine Siegel and Jaromir Neal approaching.

“Thirteen!” Constantine called out as he approached.

“You’re here too!” Braydon greeted them with mild surprise.

“Of course, I had to come and see for myself. Over the past century, numerous high-level saint weapons have appeared in this sea region. It’s evident there’s more to it than meets the eye. There may well be a substantial treasure,” Constantine explained with a laugh.

Braydon found himself puzzled.

Both Jaromir and Constantine were heaven’s favorites, entitled to the family’s abundant resources.

Why, then, did they expend such effort seeking external treasures?

Jaromir offered a soft explanation, “The family boasts numerous disciples, and its legacy spans millennia. The resources within the treasure vault are finite; they must be preserved for future generations. Moreover, as brothers and sisters within the family, we refrain from conflict. Instead, we seek cultivation resources beyond the family’s borders.

“Wolfhart believes that acquiring resources externally not only strengthens one’s abilities but also fosters invaluable experience. Relying solely on the family’s support is akin to being a parasite,” Jaromir added thoughtfully.

“Indeed,” Constantine affirmed. “We must forge our paths and contribute to the family’s legacy, not merely benefit from it.”

…

Jaromir and Wolfhart Neal both possessed remarkable talents, and with genius often came pride.

Consequently, each individual had their own path to follow, a sentiment with which Braydon concurred.

The Neal family boasted numerous young disciples, and it would be shameless for them to passively consume the family’s resources solely to aid him.

Moreover, these resources had been acquired through the sacrifices of previous generations.

As the trio conversed, Wolfhart and Lyon arrived, catching Constantine off guard.

“Wolfhart?” Constantine’s surprise was palpable.

Why had Wolfhart brought Lyon here?

What did this unexpected visit signify?

“Don’t be alarmed, Siegel youth,” Lyon reassured with a gentle smile. “I come with no hostile intent. I simply wish to meet the Neal family’s paragon.”

With a composed demeanor, Braydon acknowledged Lyon’s presence behind his silver mask.

“I am Lyon of the Foreman family,” Lyon introduced himself amiably. “I extend an invitation to you, Braydon, to visit the Foremans as an honored guest.”

“What?” Jaromir’s expression turned icy, his gaze piercing.

Lyon’s request to take Braydon away amounted to a declaration of war.

“Please, do not misconstrue my intentions,” Lyon interjected firmly. “I merely seek to extend a cordial invitation. Hear my terms before hastily refusing. If Braydon expresses interest, the Foreman family is prepared to forge an alliance with the Neal family. Our esteemed daughter, Kaylee, is willing to wed you.”

Lyon’s proposal hung in the air, awaiting a response.