The Strongest War God

“Roar!”

At the rear of the wolf pack, a proud wolf king, a fourth-level spirit beast, commanded the horde.

Whoosh!

A golden arrow shot from afar, propelled by the white-robed Braydon Neal and his golden bow.

Drawing it like the moon, he aimed at the wolf king.

The arrow pierced through the wolf king’s head, nailing it to the ground.

Braydon calmly put away his bow and said, “Advance at full speed. We must march 80 miles. We must take down Machusa before nightfall!”

The wilderness posed extreme dangers.

Once night fell, numerous spirit beasts would venture out in search of food, and the vast number of Northern Army soldiers made them prime targets.

A beast tide attack would be imminent, potentially resulting in numerous casualties.

Hence, it was imperative to seize Machusa and find refuge before nightfall.

Cole Colbie, leading the charge, embodied the spirit of a soldier with no thoughts of self-preservation.

The 100,000 cavalry pressed forward, their cold swords sweeping through the wolf pack.

Tanner Lynn, the first regimental commander of the Northern Army, led his troops in the charge, effortlessly decimating the wolf pack.

The cavalry following behind trampled the wolf corpses into a bloody paste, maintaining an unrelenting pace.

In distant Machusa, panic had already set in.

News spread that an army of martial artists from the outside world, stationed in Jaa’ku, was rapidly advancing toward them.

They were on the brink of attacking Machusa.

With City Lord Haider Msiza gravely injured and his time running out, everyone was well aware of the impending crisis.

Now faced with invading enemies, the aboriginal martial artists were left pondering their options.

Many of them contemplated the idea of escape, but where could they flee?

The wilderness, rife with lurking spirit beasts, posed an even greater threat.

Those lacking strength would only become prey for the beasts.

Meanwhile, the pinnacle martial artists swiftly evacuated the city, armed with the strength to defend themselves.

With caution, they could navigate their way out of Machusa and journey 100 miles to another aboriginal city.

Within the city lord’s mansion of Machusa, Haider, now ailing in bed, had lost his former vitality.

Anxious, a young man entered the room and delivered distressing news.

“Father, the Northern Army has mobilized all their forces to attack Machusa!”

Haider, stirred by the news, coughed up blood, his face pale.

Panting heavily, he weakly responded, “They have conquered Jaa’ku, and it’s only a matter of time before they target Machusa. Didn’t the inspector go to Jaa’ku?”

“Did he…”

The young man, with a pale face, expressed concern.

Could it be that Inspector Lyapo Dubazane had met his demise in Jaa’ku?

This seemed improbable, as Lyapo was one of the formidable eight inspectors of the Zunde Royal Dynasty, known for their prowess.

In a weakened state, Lyapo himself confirmed, “Even Lord Lyapo can’t stop them. If you can’t resist, then surrender.”

“How can we surrender to them, Father?”

The young man’s eyes filled with disbelief.

The martial artists from the outside world were perceived as weak, considering that their world lacked spirit herbs and suffered from a deteriorated cultivation environment.

It had supposedly reached the age of chaos, where the great path of martial arts had been cut off.

In a lifetime, countless geniuses failed to achieve the realm of pinnacle martial artists.

The absence of a proper cultivation technique coupled with the lack of spirit herbs indicated an apparent dead end.

It marked the conclusion of the martial arts era.

Consequently, the outside world martial artists residing in the 16th ancient city were persistently subdued by the aboriginal martial artists.

Yet, an unexpected turn of events had occurred.

The surrender of the aboriginal martial artists to the martial artists from the outside world was an exceedingly rare phenomenon, unseen for a millennium.

Haider, weakened, closed his eyes and uttered weakly, “You don’t understand how terrifying that young lord is. He can control 80,000 swords. With this terrifying strength, he will be able to slay emperors in the future!

“Now that he’s reached the emperor realm, he’s likely to target the pseudo-divines!”

Despair filled Haider’s heart.

He was aware that the Zunde Royal Dynasty held little regard for a small city like theirs.

He speculated that Inspector Lyapo’s arrival was linked to Jaa’ku falling into the hands of outsiders.

The young man, standing by his father’s side, expressed reluctance, asking, “Father, is there truly no alternative?”

“Even inspectors can’t thwart him, so resisting to the death in this defenseless city will prove futile.”

Haider, having experienced Braydon’s terror that spanned 3,000 miles, knew that nobody in Machusa could halt Braydon’s advance.

Faced with no other option, surrender seemed inevitable.

If they obstinately resisted to the end, it would only provoke the wrath of the entire Northern Army.

Blood would flow through Machusa, and regret would be its only outcome.

Leaving Haider’s bedroom, the young man’s eyes glinted with resolve.

Clenching his fists, he muttered, “Father is on the brink of death, lacking the will to fight. I cannot retreat. I must stand and fight.”

Koku Msiza refused to give up, as he knew that once Haider passed away, he was meant to become the city lord of Machusa.

However, the current situation cast doubt on that succession plan.

He not only faced the prospect of losing his position as the young city lord but also risked the entire city falling into the hands of outsiders.

How could he willingly descend from the clouds into the quagmire?

Regardless, he had to take a gamble, fighting with all his might.

The 200,000 guards of Machusa were assembled, and Koku shouted, “Put up a notice. All the men in Machusa gather and pick up your weapons to defend against the enemy. Whoever kills one enemy will be rewarded with 1,000 spirit stones. Those who kill a hundred will be conferred the title of nobility. Those who kill the enemy’s commander will be conferred the position of commander.”

Brave men were sought under hefty rewards.

The position of commander equated to the upper echelons of the guards, leading 10,000 people.

The prospect of becoming a noble sparked red eyes among the ordinary aborigines.

Becoming a noble meant monthly benefits from the city lord’s mansion, receiving 10,000 spirit stones every month without doing anything.

Nobles didn’t bear the responsibility for killing people in the city, and thus, commoners not only feared them but also envied them.

Led by Koku, 200,000 guards opened the city gate, followed by a black mass of aboriginal martial artists.

The scale of the battle approached nearly a million people, not a motley crew, but ordinary aboriginal martial artists recruited at the last minute.

Armed with a variety of weapons like knives, spears, sticks, ropes, and peculiar tools, these young and middle-aged martial artists constituted the hardcore strength of Machusa.

Their goal was to protect Machusa and make a name for themselves.

A swarm of 1.2 million martial artists poured out of the city, turning the surrounding 50 miles into a martial artist-filled zone.

The first legion of the Northern Army, consisting of 100,000 cavalry, moved uniformly, their auras permeated with a formidable killing intent.

Cole tightened the reins and issued the order to halt, the 100,000 cavalry fixating their gaze on the distant aboriginal army.

In Cole’s eyes, a cold light flickered.