The Strongest War God Chapter 1286: Returning from Prison Break

Chapter 1286: Returning from Prison Break

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Braydon Neal’s expression soured.

“It takes 256 days just to condense a single drop of blood essence. That’s over eight months!”

“Condensing 206 drops will require a staggering 181 years…”

…

As he contemplated this, Braydon felt a wave of despair wash over him.

At just 22 years old, the thought of needing nearly two centuries to reach the divine realm was disheartening.

Becoming a divine was the dream of every martial artist, symbolizing unmatched prowess and longevity.

Entering the divine realm in 200 years was a feat of unparalleled talent.

Those who achieved such heights were considered prodigies of their generation.

However, to Braydon, 200 years felt like an eternity.

After years of relentless cultivation, the prospect of such a prolonged journey seemed daunting.

Sitting in meditation, Braydon pondered his next steps.

Just mastering vitality required such a long time.

He also had to cultivate the imperial path.

The mental path was even more difficult to cultivate than vitality.

It was greatly dependent on a martial artist’s talent.

While diligence could propel one’s progress in vitality, comprehending the imperial path demanded innate talent.

It was a realm where hard work alone fell short.

With a profound sense of purpose, Braydon delved deeper into his cultivation, channeling his mental power to manifest yet another mental path above his head.

The golden mental path stretched for a hundred meters, leading to a sword at its end—a three-foot-long blade standing tall.

Sword imperial path!

With closed eyes, Braydon delved into the depths of his consciousness, seeking to comprehend this new imperial path.

His pursuit startled everyone on the fifteenth floor of the Frost Prison.

“The second imperial path!” exclaimed the barefoot old man, his voice tinged with horror.

“A twin imperial path!” another voice echoed, punctuating the astonishment that rippled through the room.

Throughout history, few cultivators dared to tread two imperial paths.

It was a feat reserved for peerless geniuses, as mastering even one path was an arduous task that eluded most martial artists.

Yet here was Braydon, seated cross-legged, radiating a potent sword intent that seemed capable of rending reality itself.

A sword emperor was born in the depths of the Frost Prison.

As time flowed relentlessly, Braydon remained in seclusion, his aura saturated with the essence of the path.

He delved deeper into his cultivation, comprehending the imperial path.

Braydon’s journey of enlightenment continued unabated on the fifteenth floor.

As he plumbed the depths of the imperial path, the old denizens of the fifteenth floor could only watch in stunned silence, their minds reeling from the magnitude of his achievements.

Though time marched on without pause, its pa.s.sage bore witness to the emergence of numerous imperial paths.

A pale figure materialized behind Braydon—the martial arts banished immortal had reappeared.

It was uncertain how much time had slipped by.

Yet, there was a noticeable change in the banished immortal; no longer dull and listless, its demeanor now radiated with a hint of vitality, its spiritual essence having recovered by 30%.

Standing behind Braydon, the banished immortal regarded his main body impa.s.sively, its memory faintly recalling the ordeal where Braydon had probed it for the swallowed mental power.

In a gesture of reciprocity, the banished immortal, now rejuvenated, expelled a luminous sphere that seamlessly melded into Braydon’s form.

The mental power of the G.o.ds from the Oracle Palace, now purified and harnessed by the banished immortal, surged back into Braydon, revitalizing him.

As the influx of pure mental power coalesced between Braydon’s brows, a fraction of the mental power from the myriad warlock emperors was channeled and refined by the banished immortal, feeding into Braydon’s spiritual aperture.

Within his spiritual aperture, a golden river converged—the spirit river, signifying a warlock emperor’s prowess.

With a decisive breakthrough, Braydon ascended to the rank of spiritual warlock emperor, the s.h.i.+mmering spirit river cascading above him, materializing into an imperial path forged from mental power.

The awe-inspiring hundred-meter imperial path gleamed with unparalleled brilliance.

The cultivation of the path of arts intertwined with mental power, linking the realms of warlock emperor and vitality emperor in an intricate dance of balance.

As Braydon traversed the path of the warlock emperor, he honed his chosen techniques while simultaneously delving deeper into martial arts.

Martial arts were inseparable from the path.

For in the primordial chaos, the heavens and earth birthed yin and yang, which in turn gave rise to the five elements—a testament to the immutable laws of creation.

The fundamental essence of heaven and earth rested upon the power of the five elements: metal, wood, water, fire, and earth.

Within these foundational elements lay the cornerstone of the world’s 30,000 techniques, an una.s.sailable truth that even the forces of wind, lightning, rain and thunder could not avoid.

Yet, attaining mastery over these primal forces and harnessing their ultimate power was akin to reaching for the heavens—a feat achieved only by the elite few who ascended to the pinnacle of their craft.

Those who possessed such power were warlock divines—a t.i.tle befitting those who delved into the path of the first generation Divine Lord Jordan Neal.

He had mastered the martial arts banished immortal and was renowned for his mastery over 30,000 mortal techniques.

He alone could go up against 30,000 warlock divines, a testament to Jordan’s boundless ambition.

However, Jordan’s grand aspirations ultimately met with failure.

His lofty goals, had they been realized, would have secured him a place as the foremost figure in history, perhaps even granting him the coveted gift of eternal life.

As Braydon ventured into the warlock emperor realm, he confronted a pivotal choice: to immerse himself in the path of arts.

It was at this juncture that the martial arts banished immortal strode onto the hundred-meter imperial path above Braydon’s head, his demeanor poised as he declared, “I am the culmination of this path. I am the master of 30,000 techniques!”

The path of the warlock emperor beckoned, and the banished immortal emerged to a.s.sert its dominion.

With the ability to command the entirety of the 30,000 techniques, Braydon’s path unfolded without the need to select a single technique as his primary focus—a privilege granted by the presence of the banished immortal at the path’s end.

For the banished immortals, this was their destiny—a living embodiment of the civilization of techniques, their existence imbued with profound significance.

As Braydon’s eyes snapped open, a formidable aura radiated forth, heralding the dawn of a new era.

The time spent in seclusion within the Frost Prison was a mystery to Braydon.

Yet, amidst the shroud of uncertainty, one undeniable truth emerged—he had gained immensely from this solitary contemplation.

Both his martial arts and ancient martial arts had ascended to the emperor realm, harboring within his being ten hidden imperial paths, a feat unseen for generations.

It was once said that with Braydon’s unparalleled talent, he could ascend to the ranks of the tri-emperor realm and challenge those destined for the throne.

However, his time within the Frost Prison had redefined his prowess.

The comprehension of the ten imperial paths posed a question—how does one gauge their own martial strength?

If Braydon were to forsake the distractions of the outside world, trivial matters would hold no sway over him.

If he were to emerge from seclusion, the outside world would behold him not as a mere prodigy, but as a force to be reckoned with, akin to a formidable presence entering a forest, silencing the clamor of hundreds of birds.

Standing amidst the aura that enveloped the fifteenth level of the Frost Prison, Braydon dispelled the Mount Sino Sword Talisman and inquired, “How much time has elapsed?”

“I, I don’t know,” stammered the barefooted old man, a tinge of fear coloring his demeanor as he recounted Braydon’s monstrous breakthrough.

They bore witness as he delved into the ten imperial paths, a feat that left them in awe.

Furrowing his brows, Braydon conveyed his reluctance to remain within the confines of the Frost Prison any longer.

The Oracle Palace was in ruins, and the Donta Imperial Dynasty was a.s.serting control over the 16th ruin.

Braydon was imprisoned here due to the appearance of a divine-level martial artist.