The Strongest War God Chapter 1411: Who Dares to Interject?

Chapter 1411: Who Dares to Interject?

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

“2048 hexagrams!”

Yin and yang entwined, while the Eight Trigrams underwent a transformative evolution, the divination unfolding before their eyes.

With each s.h.i.+ft, the silver-masked man’s aura surged explosively.

“His combat strength has skyrocketed by 20,000 times!” Sigfrid Seymour exclaimed, his voice tinged with horror.

The staggering augmentation of Braydon Neal’s battle prowess ignited a storm of killing intent within Sigfrid’s heart.

In truth, he wasn’t the only one who had discerned Braydon’s true ident.i.ty.

“Sigfrid, you see through it too?” inquired Jairo Mobley of the Golden Dragon Pavilion.

“And even if you do, dare you lay a hand on this Neal family prodigy?” countered Sigfrid, his gaze piercing.

Gregorio Lawler from the Fallen Pavilion approached, exuding a frigid and murderous aura.

“His strength has increased twenty-thousandfold. His technique remains unfamiliar to me,” he remarked coolly.

“The path manifests as Taiji, with yin and yang at its core and the Eight Trigrams in auxiliary roles. It’s a multifaceted path,” another noted, drawing the attention of all present.

Representatives from the six other major powers congregated, with the exception of those from Elysium Sect who remained absent.

It was a clear indication of the reluctance to entangle themselves in the brewing conflict between the Nealand Stone families—a feud well-known to all in attendance.

If they weren’t cautious, a full-fledged war loomed on the horizon between the two factions.

Regardless of the partic.i.p.ants, the toll would be hefty in the end.

All eyes were fixed on one individual: Braydon.

Only Soul Slave No. 3 had witnessed Braydon’s exploits within the Ivory Tower; outsiders remained oblivious to his capabilities.

They were unaware of Braydon’s journey to the thirteenth stage and the trials he had overcome.

Six months later, the Neal family boasted the emergence of its most formidable prodigy in the region’s history.

The antic.i.p.ation to learn more about him was palpable among the spectators.

Under their scrutinizing gaze, Braydon embarked on a relentless rampage against saints.

While emperors could live for millennia, Saints could endure for two thousand years.

Their longevity often correlated with their formidable strength.

In the outside world, saints were perceived as invincible beings.

However, within the confines of the Spirit Sea, saints were abundant.

Fully harnessing the power of the Yin-Yang Taiji Diagram, Braydon resembled a deity of yin and yang.

With a single punch, he killed a member of the Stone family, a force even saints couldn’t withstand.

“Eliminate him!” Severin Stone’s thunderous command jolted everyone to action.

With a swift swoosh…

All eyes were fixed on Braydon, his silver mask concealing his ident.i.ty.

“Do you recognize me?” he asked with a faint smile, removing the mask to reveal his timeless, youthful visage, akin to a celestial outcast.

Unfazed by the thousands of onlookers, Braydon unleashed his full might, swiftly killing three members of the Stone family.

Braydon, the Northern King, continued his relentless a.s.sault, cutting down saints without hesitation.

He never quailed before his adversaries, readily confronting any below the fifth level of the saint realm.

Those above posed a more formidable challenge.

From the ranks of the Stone family, a peak saint expert surged forth.

But before he could reach Braydon, Wolfhart Neal emerged, his black attire billowing in the wind.

Opening his nine-eyed dual-pupils, he addressed the approaching foe with icy detachment: “Thirty years ago, you old hounds of the Stone family a.s.saulted my younger brother. Do you aim to repeat history today?”

With a resolute intent to kill, Wolfhart activated his dual-pupils, inducing disorientation in his surroundings.

As his pupils danced, the s.p.a.ce around them distorted, a manifestation of the Neal family’s innate apt.i.tude for manipulating s.p.a.ce—an ability beyond the grasp of ordinary mortals.

“Dual-pupils, split the sky!” Wolfhart’s voice rang out, unleas.h.i.+ng his first technique.

Darkness enveloped the s.p.a.ce, as if intent on cleaving open the heavens themselves.

Wherever the sky split, destruction followed in its wake.

The peak saint’s body disintegrated into dust, a testament to the potency of Wolfhart’s secret technique, instilling fear in the Stone family.

“Dual-pupils, split the sky,” a trembling voice recounted, “Wolfhart once wielded this spell to vanquish ninety-one eminent saints of the Stone family!”

Wolfhart’s ascension to the eminent saint realm, with only a step remaining before the holy master realm, solidified his position among the top three on the genius ranking of the Spirit Sea.

Such prowess was befitting of the Neal family’s nine-eyed dual-pupils, rumored to possess the capability to slay holy masters—though this remained unconfirmed.

Unfettered by restraint, Braydon harbored a visceral animosity toward the Stone family, dispatching thirteen saints in succession, his hands stained with the blood of the Stone family.

“Cease!” thundered a commanding voice, resonating through the air with a force akin to thunder, unsettling the saints and stunning the eminent saint realm cultivators.

Descending from the heavens, a middle-aged man draped in a seven-foot-long white robe stood with an air of elegance, hands clasped behind his back.

His visage was as pristine as jade, with sword-like eyebrows framing his temples.

A symbol emblazoned on his white garb resembled a door, no less imposing than the emblem of the Hall of Souls—the foremost faction in the Spirit Sea.

Elysium Sect!

An envoy from the Elysium Sect had arrived, casting a hush over the a.s.sembly as all eyes turned skyward.

Severin found himself besieged by Lyon Foreman and Torrance Siegel, his life hanging by a thread.

Fortunately, the arrival of the Elysium Sect contingent eased the pressure on him significantly.

“Dariel, please save me!” Severin’s relief was palpable.

“The Elysium will ensure justice,” declared Dariel Jaggers, his tone matter-of-fact, signifying Elysium’s intervention.

This gesture implied that Elysium was invested in the matter—a stance that most of the major factions dared not challenge.

In the Spirit Sea, challenging the Elysium Sect was unthinkable—the foremost faction held unparalleled authority.

Unperturbed, Remington Neal maintained his resolve, spear in hand, issuing a chilling command: “Continue the slaughter, Lyon, Torrance!”

“Remington?” Torrance’s astonishment was evident.

Remington’s decision risked offending Elysium, a move fraught with consequences.

“Remington,” Dariel’s voice remained composed, “Let’s resolve this through dialogue. Why resort to bloodshed? You’re quite the intriguing character.”

The confrontation halted momentarily, but Braydon remained undeterred, manipulating the Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams with precision.

As the diagram expanded and contracted, he continued his relentless a.s.sault on the Stone family, claiming the lives of twenty-seven saints.

Dariel raised his hand, summoning a formidable binding force to subdue Braydon, intent on capturing him.

As Dariel prepared to act, his actions provoked the ire of the trio.

“Dual-pupils, activate!” Torrance’s sudden outburst reverberated with anger.

“This is beyond Elysium’s jurisdiction!”

Simultaneously, the Lyon unfurled his snow-white wings, a natural instinct ingrained in his kind—the feathered-men.

Remington launched his a.s.sault, thrusting his cold spear forward.

The impact shattered the sky, sending shockwaves rippling across a vast expanse.

The pressure he exerted was akin to that of a holy master—a revelation that left the onlookers dumbfounded.

Their astonishment quickly gave way to understanding.

Remington’s prowess was no surprise; he had once roamed as a rogue cultivator, striking down peers of his generation.

Even Kohen Neal, now the head of the Neal family and a holy master, had fallen short in comparison.

With the appearance of the cold spear, s.p.a.ce collapsed around it, funneling all spatial energy toward its tip.

In an instant, the cold spear was unleashed, hurtling forward with deadly intent.

Dariel’s expression s.h.i.+fted abruptly; he had long been aware of Remington’s capabilities, having witnessed them firsthand during their shared youth.