The Strongest War God

Chapter 1393: Inviting a Disaster

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

The red beams shot out from the two corners at lightning speed, tearing open space.

Like two sharp swords, they pierced through Braydon Neal’s body with incredible swiftness and force, unstoppable in their momentum.

Braydon was pierced through by the red light beams, crimson lines instantly coursing through his entire body.

The intense red energy sought to incinerate Braydon’s body and soul into nothingness.

Balulu appeared somewhat weakened after unleashing this attack.

He warned Braydon, “Braydon Neal, you cultivate the forbidden devil path. The Ivory Tower records everything and will transmit your information. Whether you pass this test or not, you will bring disaster upon yourself!”

“Why should I heed the words of outsiders when choosing my path?”

Braydon retorted, his eyes gleaming with a demonic aura.

He was no longer the naive youth he once was.

The fact that his path was labeled as forbidden mattered little to him now.

Despite sustaining heavy injuries and being covered in red threads, Braydon knew he had to expel this power from his body, or else he would be halted at the eleventh stage.

“Activate the Myriad Path Diagram!”

Braydon commanded coldly, moving the Myriad Path Diagram once more.

“That’s enough!” exclaimed both the martial arts banished immortal and Green Lotus simultaneously, their faces reflecting concern.

The Myriad Path Diagram held endless transformations within it.

If Braydon became lost within its complexities, his battle prowess would skyrocket, with him no longer in control—instead, it would be the Myriad Path Diagram controlling him.

Caught in the allure of the Myriad Path Diagram, the ancient martial arts banished immortal found himself in the same predicament as Braydon, drawn to its billions of permutations.

Once again, the Myriad Path Diagram shifted.

The Myriad Path Diagram formed by the 3,000 imperial paths began to shift and change.

Each mental path emitted a faint power, showing no repulsion but instead a subtle connection among them.

Hovering behind Braydon, the Myriad Path Diagram fueled his escalating aura.

Balulu, the guardian of the eleventh stage in the Ivory Tower, had a combat power amplification of 20,000 times.

Yet, he found himself completely subdued by Braydon’s aura.

Dressed in white, Braydon seemed utterly transformed, his entire being suffused with a bewitching demonic presence.

The banished immortal Braydon was no more.

His entire body exuded a vast, boundless demonic aura, his pitch-black eyes gleaming with a sinister smile.

With a staggering battle power amplification of 36,000 times, Braydon’s injuries miraculously healed as he forcefully expelled the red energy from his body.

“Demon King descends!”

Balulu exclaimed in horror as Braydon unleashed his berserk power.

Ignoring Balulu’s words, Braydon, now consumed by demonic Qi, swiftly teleported, reappearing right before Balulu.

With a single punch, bolstered by the Myriad Path Diagram, Braydon unleashed a devastating force that sent Balulu crashing down.

And just like that, the eleventh stage was conquered, the battle ending in a swift victory.

Balulu lay defeated, but the Ivory Tower showed no concern over whether Braydon had embraced the path of darkness or cultivated the forbidden devil path—he had passed the test.

Outside the Ivory Tower, the scene unfolded with bated breath.

Cheers erupted from the onlookers, piercing through the sky as all eyes turned to the second level of the Ivory Tower.

The twelfth star burst into radiant brilliance, illuminating the scene with its dazzling glow.

The sight of twelve stars was nothing short of astonishing—it signified Braydon’s successful passage through the eleventh stage!

“This can’t be!” the Stone family expert bellowed in disbelief. “How is this even possible?”

“Having passed the eleventh stage, his talent has ascended to the Solar Corona level,” Soul Slave No. 3 remarked with a grave expression.

He could observe everything transpiring within the Ivory Tower and was acutely aware of Braydon’s precarious situation.

It was evident that Braydon had succumbed to a berserk state.

Though the soul slave knew that the events within the tower were illusory, his concern lay in Braydon’s potential inability to snap out of his demonic trance upon exiting the Ivory Tower—a scenario that could prove dire.

Worry clouded Soul Slave No. 3’s eyes, yet he remained steadfast in his silence regarding Braydon.

Any information pertaining to the Ivory Tower’s Moon Corona Glory recipients was to be kept strictly confidential.

And now that Braydon had cleared the eleventh stage and emerged victorious against Balulu, he had solidified his status as a true Solar Corona-level prodigy.

But Soul Slave No. 3 understood the consequences of divulging such classified information—the Hall of Souls held sway over the lives of soul slaves, and breaching their protocols meant facing dire repercussions.

With a smile, Wolfhart Neal remarked, “Only two stages remain!”

Jaromir Neal’s grinned. “What awaits beyond the thirteenth stage?”

Soul Slave No. 3’s tone turned solemn as he cautioned, “The disparity between the first ten stages and the final three is immense. The difficulty of the last three surpasses that of the preceding ten stages combined, by tenfold or even a hundredfold.”

Jaromir’s expression sobered at the soul slave’s words, realizing the daunting obstacles that lay ahead in the Ivory Tower’s ultimate stages.

The news would undoubtedly shake the Neal family’s confidence in Braydon, but his advancement to the twelfth stage was already unprecedented—a feat worthy of admiration.

The events within the Ivory Tower, particularly the footage of Braydon’s triumph over Balulu, were disseminated far and wide, transmitted directly by the Ivory Tower to the farthest reaches of the universe.

In the depths of the cosmos, upon a life-sustaining planet, sprawling complexes of black palaces dotted the landscape, bustling with activity as countless individuals traversed their halls.

Within the sixth palace, on the 788th floor, a towering edifice stretching toward the heavens, each floor adorned with a central, five-colored altar, a dense fog coalesced upon the ancient structure’s apex.

Within this mist, a video played—a transmission from the Spirit Sea’s Ivory Tower.

A figure clad in white robes swiftly ascended to the 788th floor, greeted by the ethereal sight upon the altar.

“Nurturing Ground No. 788 has only been established for 10,000 years. A Solar Corona prodigy has emerged so swiftly?”

Per protocol, the headquarters would only be alerted when a Solar Corona-level genius emerged from the various nurturing grounds.

Moon Corona level talents, on the other hand, warranted no such notification, their information automatically relayed to the nearest branch.

Here, the term “headquarters” referred to the apex of the human race’s command structure within the cosmos—a superlative authority overseeing the myriad families spread across the universe.

Even subspecies such as ape-men and feathered-men were counted among the race’s diverse branches.

They were also part of the human race that spanned the vast expanse of the cosmos.

The expansive heavens teemed with life, birthing myriad forms across its vast tapestry.

Back at headquarters, the white-robed individual extracted the information from the fog-shrouded altar, meticulously sorting and relaying it.

The emergence of a Solar Corona-level prodigy from any nurturing ground warranted immediate attention from the higher echelons.

If deemed necessary, experts would be dispatched for further assessment.

Meanwhile, amidst the silent expanse of the starry void, a colossal starship, spanning thousands of kilometers in length, cruised through space like a behemoth, its velocity reaching an astonishing level, possibly even surpassing the speed of light.

Despite its immense size, the starship boasted ample space to accommodate tens of millions of passengers without any sense of congestion.

Yet, what truly set it apart was its interior—a veritable paradise nestled within its hull.

Amidst verdant plains, structures dotted the landscape, offering a semblance of home to its inhabitants.

In one such modest wooden abode, a black-haired middle-aged man sat in meditation upon a simple futon.

Clad in crimson armor, his closed eyes belied the potent aura he exuded.

With a sudden motion, he snapped his eyes open, ready for what lay ahead.