The Strongest War God Chapter 1412: Someone's Trap

Chapter 1412: Someone’s Trap

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

The gap in strength between the two was immense!

Dariel Jaggers was merely at the early stage of being a holy master, while Remington Neal had reached the peak of being a holy master.

There were even whispers that he had a chance of transcending to the holy master level, which was the cornerstone of his family’s power—a figure akin to Mount Tanish, a true heavyweight in the Spirit Sea.

“Remington, hold on!” Dariel’s voice echoed.

The spear was already in motion.

It pierced into his chest, driving straight to his heart and severing the flow of life within his body.

For ordinary beings, such a strike would be fatal, but for holy masters, whose life source had already been transferred elsewhere, death was elusive.

Their life force had already turned into a world seed, rendering them virtually immortal unless their consciousness was obliterated.

Remington’s spear pierced through Dariel’s body, seizing the world seed that had formed within him.

With a steely resolve, he commanded, “Begone!”

He refrained from delivering a fatal blow, wary of making enemies for the Neal family.

While the Elysium Sect wielded considerable influence in the Spirit Sea, provoking the Neal family would plunge them into turmoil.

None of the major powers in the Spirit Sea could afford to live complacently, constantly balancing on the edge of conflict.

Remington unleashed an overwhelming display of power, reaching the pinnacle of a holy master—a force to be reckoned with in the arena.

The Elysium’s people, despite inflicting severe injuries, dared not provoke further, and the representatives of the major factions held their tongues, wary of the unfolding chaos.

Severin Stone’s face paled, and he hastily fled with his entourage.

But Remington’s spear thrust spared no one, reducing both s.p.a.ce and beings to dust.

Witnessing this, Braydon Neal, engaged in his own battle, couldn’t help but be awestruck.

Remington’s mastery over his power was exemplary, a clear sign of imminent breakthrough.

For any cultivator, advancing to a higher realm required impeccable control over their current strength.

Rus.h.i.+ng through without such control risked instability, leading to loss of cultivation or even worse—succ.u.mbing to the very power they sought to wield.

None of the hundreds present, including the Stone family, survived the onslaught, sparking the potential for all-out family warfare.

Given the Stone family’s temperament, this affront would surely not go unanswered.

Amidst the chaos, itinerant cultivators seized the opportunity to explore the seabed.

Among them, a saint realm cultivator stumbled upon a saint sword—a weapon of holy master caliber, its lethal potential already demonstrated.

With such a weapon in hand, even a saint realm cultivator posed a grave threat, capable of killing even the mightiest of eminent saints.

The weapon emanated a lethal sword Qi, instantly claiming another victim.

Holy master weapons showed no mercy, favoring only the strong.

To tame these fierce tools, both strength and cunning were essential.

Despite the casualties, more itinerant cultivators pressed forward, driven by the allure of the holy master-level weapon.

In the cutthroat world of the Spirit Sea, acquiring such a weapon meant power and prosperity.

As clashes erupted among the hundreds of cultivators, some even at the eminent saint realm, one elder stood out—the oldest among them, yet standing at the high-level eminent saint realm.

With a determined grip, he extracted the sword from its resting place.

However, upon its withdrawal, the sword remained silent.

Filled with elation, the elder prepared to depart with his newfound prize.

But Jairo Mobley, standing resolute on the sea’s surface, had other plans.

His demand was clear: relinquish the holy master-level weapon, and he could leave unscathed.

Yet, possessing such a treasure was no small feat, and the elder hesitated.

The eyes of the true powers of the Spirit Sea observed from afar, unmoved.

This was the perilous dance of greed and danger.

Faced with Jairo’s threat, the elder’s resolve wavered.

Still, the allure of the treasure was too strong to surrender without a fight.

As tensions reached a breaking point, a clash seemed imminent…

However, an unexpected turn of events unfolded at the seabed.

Ever since the elder extracted the sword, the underwater grave seemed to stir, its depths pulsating with an unseen force.

Wolfhart Neal’s eyes blazed with urgency. “Jaromir, run!”

“Retreat!” Jaromir Neal’s voice boomed, tearing through s.p.a.ce as he whisked Braydon away to safety.

Sensing imminent danger, Braydon activated his dual-pupils, revealing the peril lurking below.

“Move!”

Desperate to save his family, Braydon’s efforts were in vain.

In less than two seconds, a terrifying surge of sword Qi erupted from the depths, far deadlier than before.

Any holy master venturing into its depths would meet their end, let alone other living beings.

In an instant, the seabed erupted, hurling hundreds, if not thousands, of corpses to the surface, their lifeless forms a grim testament to the danger lurking below.

Beneath the corpses lay a ma.s.sive formation disk spanning over ten miles—a sword array.

This was no ordinary array—it bristled with thousands of saint holy master-level weapons, each blade deadlier than the one claimed by the rogue cultivator.

It was a killing formation, forged from the might of countless saint holy master-level weapons.

It could take down a holy master.

Once ensnared within it, one would be unable to escape!

No wonder Wolfhart and Braydon’s expressions s.h.i.+fted.

Braydon had only glimpsed the corpses and their belongings, never antic.i.p.ating the deadly trap lurking beneath.

It was evidently a killing formation rigged to eliminate anyone who ventured here.

And detonate it did!

Countless itinerant cultivators fell to the merciless sword Qi, their lives snuffed out in an instant.

Within the core area, spanning from the eminent saint realm to the saint realm, thousands met a gruesome demise, reduced to a crimson mist.

The sword array’s explosion rippled outward, extending its deadly reach to an eight-thousand-mile radius.

No one could evade its wrath.

The members of various major factions were obliterated by the onslaught of sword Qi.

Among the Neal family members, only a fraction survived, with over seventy percent meeting their end.

Braydon, s.h.i.+elded by Remington, navigated the turbulent s.p.a.ce to evade the worst of the onslaught.

Nonetheless, stray sword Qi still penetrated, albeit weakened by spatial distortions, only to be dispersed by Remington’s palm.

Remington’s countenance soured.

“d.a.m.n it! We’ve been deceived,” he muttered darkly.

“But, Teacher, who in the Spirit Sea would dare plot against us?” Jaromir’s expression mirrored Remington’s frustration.

The loss of so many promising young talents dealt a severe blow to the family’s future prospects.

Remington’s gaze turned icy.

“There are few factions audacious enough to conspire against us. Take the Demon Saint Island, for instance. In my youth, I encountered such treachery. Those scoundrels from Demon Saint Island covertly seek out untapped locations and weaponize them into death traps, claiming the lives of countless geniuses from rival factions!”

This wasn’t an isolated incident—such treachery had occurred before.

And it wouldn’t be the last.

Remington was certain there was a mastermind behind this gruesome scheme.