The Strongest War God

“Show me what you’ve got in martial arts,” the man in green said, his tone carrying an air of challenge. “Prove who you are. With the protection of the people from the Ancestral Land, even the 16th Oracle Palace wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you.”

The man in green made his assessment.

Without hesitation, Braydon Neal unleashed a flurry of eight techniques, seamlessly blending them into one, a display of martial prowess that seemed to transcend mortal limits.

The banished immortal’s form materialized in response to Braydon’s mastery, his demeanor nonchalant as he remarked, “Dragging me out again?”

“A banished immortal with awakened consciousness!”

Xetsa Yeza’s eyes widened in astonishment, recognizing the legendary figure from her studies.

“This is the martial arts banished immortal!”

It was a revelation that matched the ancient texts precisely—martial arts banished immortals were unparalleled in their prowess.

“Master!”

Xetsa affirmed Braydon’s identity, her reverence evident as she knelt before him.

“Xetsa Yeza of the Oracle Palace pays her respects to the Young Divine Lord.”

With Xetsa’s gesture, the others followed suit, bowing in deference.

Braydon’s true lineage had been confirmed; those who wielded martial arts banished immortal were descendants of the Divine Lord, the common master of the various Oracle Palaces.

Fela Yengo voiced his confusion, “Young Divine Lord, why align yourself with outsiders from the Ancestral Land? They are our mortal enemies!”

“I’ll thank you not to lecture me on my choices,” Braydon retorted sharply, dismissing their concerns outright.

Fela remained stoic, offering no response, while Xetsa interjected calmly, “Among the martial artists beyond our borders, there are many descendants of the gods as well.”

She cited the records of the Oracle Palace, shedding light on their mission to venture into the outside world, revealing that they believed the origins of the gods lay beyond the ruins.

Whereas those in the outside world believed that martial arts originated from the ruins.

The origins of martial arts were a matter of contention between the two worlds.

While outsiders believed they stemmed from the ruins, those within yearned for the outside world in return.

“Are the descendants of the gods from the outside world linked to the ruins?”

Braydon’s gaze grew more intense with his question.

“Yes and no,” Xetsa replied cautiously. “There are two types of descendants of the gods. Some trace their lineage back thousands of years in the outside world, while others hail from our Divine Emptiness World and the Oracle Palace.”

Braydon’s inquiry about the bronze door hinted at a growing unease.

He suspected that beyond his teacher, Finley Yanagi, there might be another party involved in dealings with the aborigines.

The coveted bronze door served as the focal point for both sides.

It was the bargaining chip of every martial artist in the outside world, a key to cooperation with the aborigines and the Oracle Palace.

Eager to uncover the extent of the outsiders’ collaboration with the aborigines, Braydon pressed for details, his anticipation tinged with anger.

Xetsa’s revelation about the select few descendants of gods who could access the outside world hinted at a deeper alliance between the ruins’ powers and those of South Pole Island.

It implied collaboration beyond mere coincidence—a pact that, if exposed, would lead to dire consequences.

Otherwise, why would those giants let the descendants of the gods go to the outside world?

The implication of collusion with alien races, betrayal, and treason stirred Braydon’s wrath.

It wasn’t just individuals but the entire martial artist community of the outside world that had betrayed his trust.

With such truths laid bare, unrest among South Pole Island’s martial artists was inevitable. The martial artists would no longer believe in the major forces. The rift between outsiders and aborigines, rooted in ancestral blood feuds, threatened to erupt anew.

Moreover, over the past century, both sides had suffered losses of loved ones and comrades to each other, deepening the unresolvable blood feud.

Only conflict persisted, with neither side relenting until the other was utterly vanquished.

“How many descendants of the gods have been dispatched to the outside world all these years?” Braydon pressed for details once more.

“I can’t provide an exact count, but every Oracle Palace is involved in this endeavor,” Xetsa responded, indicating the widespread participation of the Oracle Palaces across the ruins in sending out descendants of the gods.

The scale of this operation was staggering.

Across the 72 ruins and their corresponding Oracle Palaces, countless individuals had been dispatched over the past century, their numbers impossible to tally.

It was a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode at any moment.

When these descendants reached a critical mass and attained the cultivation of the emperor realm, they would inevitably turn their sights on the South Pole Island, seizing control of the bronze gate and unleashing the aborigine forces upon the outside world, plunging it into chaos and war.

Braydon maintained a facade of calm, but beneath it, a storm of murderous intent brewed within him.

The actions of the 72 giants of the South Pole had crossed a line, and they were now flirting with their own demise.

“I’m here under the Oracle’s directive,” Xetsa interjected softly. “My mission is to escort the Young Divine Lord back to the Oracle Palace.”

“What if I refuse?” Braydon’s tone turned icy.

Xetsa, unfazed by the challenge, offered a different approach.

“Should you choose to accompany me, I will grant half of the Zunde Royal Dynasty’s territory to your allies here. What say you?”

This time, rather than confrontation or coercion, Xetsa presented a tempting offer to the Northern Army—one they couldn’t easily dismiss.

Braydon understood the sacrifices made by the Northern Army in their conquest of Machusa.

The toll of more than ten thousand lives lost, tens of thousands injured, and the near-decimation of a legion was not lost on him. They had paid dearly for their victories.

With Xetsa’s proposition laid out, she proposed granting the Northern Army a vast expanse of 5,000 miles of territory.

This offer was significant considering the Zunde Royal Dynasty boasted 73 ancient aboriginal cities, with half of them earmarked for the Northern Army.

Each of these ancient cities held substantial reservoirs of cultivation resources, crucial for the Northern Army’s needs.

Their most pressing shortages included spirit herbs for cultivation and materials for crafting spirit artifacts.

They lacked defensive armor and sturdy weapons, their men still clad in unlined garments.

Xetsa’s terms struck a chord with Braydon, his expression darkening as he realized the depth of her shrewdness.

In her conditions, he discerned a glimpse of his vulnerability.

Refusing Xetsa’s offer wasn’t just a matter of personal choice—it posed a threat to the entire Northern Army.

Braydon, as the Young Divine Lord from the ancestral land, held a tenuous position amidst mortal enemies from the outside world.

Fela of the Zunde Royal Dynasty interjected, elaborating on their formidable military might. “There are millions of armored elites, eight emperor-level inspectors, twelve emperor-level civil officials, and thirty-six quasi-emperors.

“Other than that, the city lord of every big city in the Zunde Royal Dynasty is a quasi-emperor.”

The sheer strength of the dynasty left Braydon in awe, contemplating the might of the Donta Imperial Dynasty behind Fela.

Collecting his thoughts, Braydon addressed the Donta Imperial Dynasty with a measured tone. “Entering the Oracle Palace isn’t out of the question, but I want the entire Zunde Royal Dynasty. The banner of the Northern Army must be hoisted within a radius of 10,000 miles. Furthermore, you must pledge not to encroach upon our territory for a hundred years.”