The Strongest War God

Chapter 1389: Seclusion

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Braydon Neal accepted the explanation without further hesitation.

In the vast expanse of the universe, colossal stars adorned the celestial canvas, their arrangement unchanged for millennia.

Yet amidst this cosmic tapestry, a black starship spanning thousands of kilometers traversed space like a behemoth in motion.

Its velocity was nothing short of remarkable, surpassing even the speed of light as it navigated through the stars without deviation.

The starship wielded an enigmatic power, slicing through stars as though they were mere obstacles in its path.

The sheer velocity generated an unprecedented cutting force, unnoticed by any soul in the desolate expanse of the starry sky.

Meanwhile, Braydon, situated far away in the Spirit Sea, remained oblivious to the grandeur of the starry realm, having never ventured into its depths.

Approaching him, Kohen Neal suggested, “Braydon, let’s return to the family. The old ancestor is already nearby. He’ll provide a covert escort for your safety.”

The Neal family had dispatched seven ancestors, all dedicated to safeguarding Braydon.

Having learned from their past oversight that led to Thirteen’s demise, they were determined not to repeat the same mistake.

Their sole focus was to nurture Braydon into a formidable expert, ensuring his ascent to greatness.

After a brief contemplation, Braydon replied, “Sir, I wish to remain here. I intend to re-enter the Ivory Tower in a year’s time. I believe the final three stages hold the tower’s deepest secrets.”

“Are you certain?” Kohen had already recognized Braydon’s exceptional talent.

With assured confidence in Braydon’s potential, the family head vowed to propel him to the pinnacle of power, sparing no effort in his cultivation journey.

With an abundance of techniques, arts, and resources at his disposal, Braydon faced no need to take unnecessary risks.

Braydon spoke earnestly, “I can’t claim absolute certainty, but I’m willing to give it a shot. For me, the Ivory Tower offers the most conducive environment for training. Even if I were to meet my end within its confines, it would be but a fleeting illusion.”

Engaging in combat within the Ivory Tower didn’t equate to true demise.

It resembled more of an expulsion—a removal from the fray without sustaining any actual harm, merely being ejected from the tower.

Kohen acknowledged this reality.

He understood that even in the event of Braydon’s apparent demise within the Ivory Tower, he would remain unscathed.

However, the external threats posed a genuine concern.

Kohen recognized the potential danger from the Stone family, understanding the depths of their rivalry.

If left unchecked, the consequences could escalate manifold in the future.

“Patriarch Neal, fear not,” reassured Soul Slave No. 3. “I am here, and I shall not allow any harm to befall His Highness.. As I’ve stated before, achieving the Moon Corona Glory would be an unparalleled accolade.”

The soul slaves within the Hall of Souls operated by a set of clandestine regulations, unknown to outsiders but intimately understood by those within.

Soul Slave No. 3’s proclamation carried weight, dissuading any from challenging the resolve of such an esteemed figure.

They were among the initial cohort to traverse the Spirit Sea, inadvertently ensnared into servitude within the Hall of Souls.

The longevity they attained was a testament to their formidable cultivation, with few contemporaries remaining beyond its confines.

Kohen breathed a sigh of relief. “Your words bring solace. I shall remain here with Braydon.”

Braydon’s safety was paramount.

Should any unforeseen circumstances arise, Kohen understood he would bear the weight of accountability, even if it meant relinquishing his role as family head.

The unwavering loyalty and familial legacy spanning ten thousand years were beyond comprehension.

When a prodigious talent emerged within the family, the collective effort of the entire lineage focused on nurturing and safeguarding their ascent, with the implicit understanding that their success would reciprocate prosperity for the family over millennia.

This ethos formed the bedrock of the family’s enduring inheritance.

Members of the Neal family were resolute in their decision to remain and accompany Braydon.

They would only return when Braydon was ready to return to the ancestral grounds.

Prepared to defend him to the death if necessary, their unwavering commitment epitomized the essence of family solidarity.

Driven by an innate allegiance, they were poised to sacrifice without hesitation at the behest of their family head.

The dynamics of the Spirit Sea demanded unity for survival and growth; internal discord was a luxury they could ill afford.

Despite any underlying tensions, outward harmony was imperative for their collective prosperity.

Following Soul Slave No. 3’s proclamation, an undercurrent of hostility that might have stirred among the leaders of the attending factions simmered.

None dared to manifest it openly, let alone act upon it.

Any aggression directed toward Braydon in such a public forum would amount to a direct challenge to the formidable Hall of Souls, inviting the swift and absolute retribution that would spell the family’s demise.

Braydon’s gaze locked onto Wolfhart Neal as he called out, “Wolfhart, which stage have you reached?”

“The seventh stage!” came Wolfhart’s response, a testament to his extraordinary prowess afforded by his nine-eyed dual-pupils, granting him a six-thousand-fold amplification of his combat prowess.

Truly a superlative talent.

“I’ve only reached the sixth level,” admitted Jaromir Neal with a touch of resignation.

“A few of them got stuck at the fifth stage. The gatekeeper’s strength in there is just too abnormal,” Fredrich Truitt remarked, stepping forward with familiarity.

The thirteen disciples of the Spirit Sea were a formidable group, each akin to dragons and phoenixes in their own right, reigning supreme within the Spirit Sea.

With only the elder generation capable of reigning them in, few from the younger generation posed any real challenge.

“Wolfhart, do you plan on entering seclusion?” Braydon inquired, directing his gaze towards Wolfhart.

“We’re all facing our own martial paths, and we’re all grappling with our own bottlenecks. Seclusion isn’t proving effective,” replied Wolfhart.

Like his companions, he didn’t opt for seclusion, knowing that any breakthrough would require rigorous training and confrontations with mortality to surmount.

Yet for Braydon, seclusion was imperative.

Braydon did not have any bottlenecks, but the eleventh stage proved lethal with the fearsome creature that vanquished three banished immortals and claimed Braydon’s life.

Braydon’s intent to enter seclusion stemmed from a desire to bolster his combat prowess.

“Your Highness,” Soul Slave No. 3 interjected, “You’ve earned the Moon Corona Glory, granting you access to the Ivory Tower for ten years with unrestricted entry.”

“What?” exclaimed the onlookers, their discontent palpable.

Why was Braydon granted such liberty within the Ivory Tower while they remained constrained?

Their brewing protest was swiftly quelled by Soul Slave No. 3’s icy retort, “If you attain the Moon Corona Glory, you too can enjoy this privilege.”

Cold silence enveloped the gathering, punctuated only by the weight of Soul Slave No. 3’s words, underscoring the significance of a Moon Corona genius’s prestige.

He faced the daunting task of conquering ten stages.

If they could breeze through the tenth stage, they wouldn’t be here complaining.

In the blink of an eye, Braydon vanished from sight, reappearing with a small three-story tower emerging atop the sea’s surface.

The Star Tower hovered in the outer world.

“An artifact spirit that can contain living beings. It seems like His Highness stumbled upon a stroke of luck,” remarked Soul Slave No. 3 with a hint of envy.

Kohen cradled the Star Tower, no larger than his palm, securing it close to his person as Braydon prepared for seclusion.

Within the Star Tower, Braydon’s focus turned inward as he contemplated his chosen path.

“Braydon, which path do you wish to pursue?” inquired the venerable artifact spirit.

“I’ll delve into the 3,000 great paths. The martial arts banished immortal cultivates ultimate power, while Green Lotus focuses on time and space. As for the ancient martial arts banished immortal and myself, we pursue the imperial paths,” Braydon elucidated, outlining his intentions.

With their paths set, the three banished immortals departed, each embarking on their unique journey of cultivation.

As Braydon assumed a cross-legged position, he entered a state of enlightenment, his being suffused with the intricate patterns of path runes.

Yet, what sent shivers down the spine was the emanation of similar runes from the departing banished immortals, a testament to their shared pursuit of enlightenment.