The Strongest War God

Braydon Neal stood in the city lord’s mansion and spoke in a hushed tone, “Send someone back to Hansworth’s Northern Army and relay my order. Deploy the Northern Army to the 16th ruin and secure Jaa’ku city.”

“I’ll have someone go right away,” Sorrell Neal responded, turning to leave.

Before departing, Braydon inquired, “Where are Grandpa and Uncle Lowell trapped?”

He had been here for quite some time, and Sorrell had avoided discussing it until now.

Sorrell, seemingly prepared for the question, lowered his head and clenched his fists.

“Brother, we can’t go there. Even if an emperor were to go, I doubt he’d survive. If Grandpa stays, he won’t allow me to go, even if it costs him his life.”

“If Grandpa passes, I’ll take charge of the 16th ancient city. Father entrusted me to prevent you from entering the divine temple if you came to the ruins,” Sorrell revealed, clearly pained by the situation.

Sorrell grappled with the dilemma of having to choose between his biological father and the grandfather who had cherished him since childhood, both direct relatives now in jeopardy.

Feeling the weight of the situation, Braydon, the elder brother, comfortingly patted his younger brother’s shoulder and whispered, “Where is the divine temple? I’ll handle it. You guard the 16th ancient city.”

“Brother, you can’t go!” Sorrell protested, concerned for his elder brother.

The third generation of the Neal family resided on the South Pole Island, with Sapphire Neal being a daughter, she was unable to become the family’s pillar.

Jayven Neal, a young master, was deemed useless, leaving Sorrell as the promising and rare genius of the South Pole Island.

Sorrell refused to vie for the position of family head as Braydon, the eldest grandson of the third generation, was here. Had had witnessed the internal strife of the previous generation.

Having grown up amidst family discord, Sorrell developed a strong aversion to internal conflicts.

He believed that with so few males in the Neal family, they shouldn’t fight among themselves.

The position of the head of the Neal family held little appeal to him.

Today, Braydon’s solo attack on the quasi-emperor had reverberated throughout Jaa’ku, earning Sorrell’s trust in his brother’s capabilities.

Convinced that Braydon could manage the Neal residence, Sorrell vowed to help him till the day he died.

“I won’t easily meet my end. Many, including those in the Oracle Palace, wish to see me reach the peak of my power before anything else.” Braydon reassured, rubbing his head.

In the outside world, the hermits of Hansworth didn’t desire Braydon’s demise.

They hoped he would forge a new path, allowing martial artists worldwide to enter the supreme pinnacle realm.

Even the warlock emperor of the Oracle Palace wished for Braydon’s survival because his martial arts held the secret of eternal life.

Who wouldn’t want to unravel the secret of immortality? The Great Divine Priest wouldn’t stand idly by if Braydon faced trouble, but alas, his cultivation was too weak.

Had he been stronger, even the Oracle Palace would heed his commands.

For the martial arts lineage, the banished immortal was a supreme symbol—a Divine Lord!

“I rushed here,” Braydon said softly, “so I didn’t bring a gift. Tell me, what do you want before I go?”

“I don’t want you to go to the divine temple,” Sorrell insisted.

“Do you want to learn the Mount Sino Sword Art?” Braydon asked gently.

During Braydon’s earlier battle, he sensed Sorrell’s subtle yearning for the Mount Sino Sword Art.

Sorrell hesitated, tempted but embarrassed.

Braydon chuckled, and a ray of light appeared, falling between Sorrell’s eyebrows—a mental imprint, an exclusive method when one’s mental power had reached the second stage.

He imparted all the Mount Sino Sword Art cultivation method in the mental imprint.

Braydon walked toward the temple and said, “If the Mount Sino sword cultivators ask where you got the Mount Sino Sword Art, tell them I gave it to you. They won’t give you a hard time.”

Sorrell looked up as his brother departed, unaware that Braydon was the young master of Mount Sino, the future leader.

After Braydon left, Sorrell assumed control of Jaa’ku, executing 190,000 aboriginal martial artists on Braydon’s orders.

None of the trouble-causing noble’s relatives survived—it was a night of massacre in Jaa’ku.

He killed 200,000 martial artists without mercy.

On the same day, the Northern Army in Hansworth’s northern desert was discreetly mobilized by Commander Braydon.

An order to send all soldiers to the South Pole Island.

Ten legions rushed to the South Pole.

Far away in the capital, Heather Sage, a woman in a white scholar’s robe, sat in a temple, holding the national seal.

Dominic Lowe approached softly, saying, “Heather, it’s late. You should rest.”

“It’s still early. I’ll go to bed after approving these documents,” Heather replied, flipping through a new document as stars adorned the night sky outside.

Dominic delicately placed the ginseng porridge on the table, attempting to persuade her once more.

“You’re pregnant. Even if you don’t think about yourself, you have to think about the child!”

After hearing this, Heather paused in her tasks. Her left hand instinctively caressed her slightly bulging belly.

She lowered her head, and a softness crept into her eyes. “It’s been six months. These two little ones have settled.”

“You’re having fraternal twins. They will surely inherit the Northern King’s talent. It will be a tremendous asset for the country,” Dominic praised, presenting all the positive aspects.

“No,” Heather shook her head and asserted, “After they’re born, I hope they won’t inherit their father’s martial arts talent. It’s better for them to be ordinary children.”

Dominic fell silent, understanding Heather’s sentiments as a parent himself.

He knew the hidden struggles Braydon had faced to gain fame in Hansworth—known only to his own family.

Heather took a couple of small bites of the ginseng porridge.

“How’s the situation at the South Pole?” she inquired softly.

“The Northern King mobilized the Northern Army to head straight for the South Pole. According to information from the hidden agents in the capital, Graham Neal and Lowell Neal seem to be in significant trouble,” Dominic reported routinely.

Because Heather wanted to be updated on the South Pole situation every night.

Heather nodded gently and murmured, “There’s the Gray Wolf Army and the Sanguine Army in the northern desert. It’s fine if the Northern Army is transferred away.”

“Currently, all the countries worldwide seem to be focusing their attention on the South Pole,” Dominic expressed concern, his eyes betraying a hint of worry.

Since Braydon’s journey to the South Pole, he had garnered the attention of the hundred countries.

“This morning, Kieran inquired about when your wedding with the Northern King will be held,” Dominic added.

“There’s no hurry,” Heather replied, aware of the numerous tasks at hand.