The Strongest War God

Chapter 1271: A Bad Sign

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

“I’m in need of a custom-made sword,” Braydon Neal declared, specifying his requirements.

“The blade should measure three feet and three inches in length, with a frosty cold edge and a slightly thicker body.”

The young man pivoted and called out, “Blackie, fetch that black sword! We have a customer looking to purchase a blade!”

“On it!”

Another attendant hurried over, retrieving the Northern Army military sword from its display.

Accepting the sword, Braydon inspected it before offering a smile.

“This blade feels a tad light. Could you craft a new one for me, but make it 500 pounds heavier? It needs to be perfectly suited to me. Here’s the deposit. Once it’s forged, send it directly to the Oracle Palace.”

“Rest assured, sir. I’ll have it forged within the day!”

The young man assured him, accepting the bag containing not only spirit crystals but also something more peculiar.

With their transaction concluded, Braydon and Xetsa Yeza departed from the shop.

Back at the Oracle Palace, Xetsa softly offered her assistance.

“If you need a weapon, I can arrange it for you.”

“I was just thinking about crafting a weapon for fun. The God Slaying Bow serves me well, but if the Oracle Palace boasts an array of emperor-level weapons, a spear would suit me nicely,” Braydon disclosed his preference.

With a nod, Xetsa assured him, “Consider it done,” before setting off to address his request.

Emperor-level weapons were highly coveted treasures, yet the Oracle Palace possessed ample reserves.

Should Braydon desire something, the palace would readily accommodate his wishes.

In no time, Braydon returned to his palace.

Activating his glabella, he unleashed his golden mental power, forming a protective shield that enveloped the chamber, ensuring he remained informed of any probing intrusions.

He then took out a black token, a unique artifact native to the ruins.

Such spirit artifacts held no offensive or defensive capabilities; their sole purpose was communication.

With a gesture, Braydon summoned forth a rippling mirror-like surface.

Meanwhile, in Shop 112…

The young accountant, stationed in a concealed chamber, saluted sharply.

“Northern Army’s Cian Jarman extends his greetings to the commander!”

Braydon remained unruffled by the revelation, having already discerned the true nature of the shop’s occupants as hidden agents of the Northern Army.

Clearly, they had infiltrated the Donta Imperial City.

Cian explained gravely, “Second Master currently controls half of the Donta Imperial Dynasty’s territory and 37 aboriginal cities. Before the commander’s arrival in the Donta Imperial Dynasty, Divine Priest Xetsa Yeza assured that the Donta Imperial Dynasty’s territory would belong to the Northern Army in the future. Second Master dispatched hidden agents to establish contact with Fela Yengo in the Zunde Royal Dynasty in advance.”

He continued, “Then, Second Master sent a large number of hidden agents to infiltrate the Zunde Royal Dynasty. After that, we arrived at the Donta Imperial City via caravans from the Zunde Royal Dynasty.”

Braydon nodded thoughtfully, recognizing the immense effort expended by Luther Carden to facilitate these covert operations.

Cian then proposed, “If you wish to leave, we can arrange for an evacuation tonight, Commander.”

Yet Braydon was cognizant of the delicate situation.

“The Oracle Palace holds dominion over the entire ruins. Were I to depart the city, the Donta Imperial Dynasty might marshal their forces, commanding the Zunde Royal Dynasty’s army to assail the Northern Army.”

He elucidated the precarious predicament, emphasizing the critical role his presence in the Oracle Palace played in safeguarding the Northern Army’s stability.

If he were to leave the Oracle Palace without a word, things would not be in their favor.

If the Oracle Palace could give the Northern Army these territories, they could also take them back by force.

In one night, they would be able to return the Northern Army to its original state.

Understanding the implications, Cian reluctantly acknowledged, “Second Master stands prepared to withdraw.”

It was clear to all Northern Army soldiers that they had unwittingly become a burden upon their commander.

The Oracle Palace didn’t wield the Northern Army as a threat.

How could the Northern King consent to being confined within the Donta Imperial City?

He felt trapped here, akin to a hostage.

Sensing Xetsa’s imminent arrival, Braydon ended the conversation.

Simultaneously, he instructed Cian to relay to Luther that the Northern Army couldn’t depart from the ruins.

They couldn’t easily relinquish everything they’d established in the 16th ruin.

When Xetsa arrived at Braydon’s palace, she was carrying a long wooden box.

“Open it and take a look,” she said softly.

Braydon lifted the lid, revealing a long spear emitting a cold gleam.

The entire weapon, black and three meters in length, exuded an icy aura from its tip.

The coldness was palpable, enough to send shivers down one’s spine.

Embedded with an emperor-level beast core, the spear was an emperor-level weapon, pulsating with the power of a living emperor.

Braydon grasped the spear, its weight of 2700 pounds feeling just right in his hand.

As he tested its strength, he felt the weapon’s inherent ferocity.

With a slight movement, he thrust the spear skyward, unleashing a sharp aura that pierced through the palace, reducing the glazed tiles to ash.

Impressed by its formidable piercing force, Braydon offered rare praise.

Xetsa, unveiling her beautiful face by removing her white veil, remarked, “As long as you’re satisfied. There are certain matters that can’t be discussed publicly. Now that we’re back at the Oracle Palace, there are things I must share with you.”

“What’s that?” Braydon inquired, stowing away his emperor-level weapon.

What Xetsa revealed next was enough to incite fury in Braydon.

The imperial decree that had bound the various ruins for a millennium was nearing its end.

Xetsa’s lips parted slightly as she continued, “Long ago, many formidable figures were born in the outside world. Take the Heavenly Mountain, for example. As the young master of Heavenly Mountain, you must be familiar with it, right?”

“I was raised in the northern territory. I’ve never inquired about my elders,” Braydon replied, cautious not to overstep any boundaries.

Asking about his elders would be deemed disrespectful.

Xetsa sighed, conceding, “Very well, then I’ll explain. Given your prolonged stay in the Fourteenth Divine Emptiness Region, you’re likely aware that the Oracle Palace originated from the outside world, correct?”

Braydon nodded. “You have great desire to explore the outside world, a quest that has fueled a war spanning millennia.”

“But we share the same ancestors,” Xetsa lamented. “After the decline of martial arts civilization, our forebears sought refuge in various Divine Emptiness Regions to perpetuate their lineage. However, when they sought to return to the outside world, they were met with resistance and met their demise at the hands of outside martial artists.

“That’s why the war endured for thousands of years,” Xetsa concluded, surprisingly composed in recounting these historical truths.

Braydon grasped the gravity of the situation.

Everyone in the Oracle Palace represented remnants of the martial arts civilization, an era long past.

Yet, they harbored ambitions of returning to the outside world—a prospect that spelled peril for martial artists in the outside world.

The Oracle Palace’s dominion over the ruins, surpassing the imperial authority of the Donta Imperial Dynasty and the aboriginal races, had earned them the moniker “God of All Life.”