The Strongest War God

Chapter 1532: The Ultimate Restriction
Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

With a single palm, all of Braydon Neal’s bones shattered, his aura instantly flattened.

His condensed power dissipated, the domain shrinking from seven miles to five, all thanks to the girl’s strike.

“Second move!” Braydon’s injuries miraculously healed as he charged forward once more, his voice icy.

His fist connected, only to be met by the girl’s descending palm.

The force sent Braydon hurtling into a nearby palace, startling a massive toad from its slumber.

The creature, covered in lumps of flesh, eyed Braydon with a ferocious hunger.

Though his strike landed, Braydon’s body lay flattened in the pit.

Yet, amidst his pain, his chaos domain had shrunk from five kilometers to a mere two.

Just a little further—the final step.

Two of the three moves had transpired; one remained.

The girl, clad in white, stood barefoot above him, her frown deepening as she spoke coldly, “This is your last chance. You may not survive.”

“Why should a cultivator fear death?” Braydon’s voice rang with valor, echoing across the realm.

The girl acquiesced, her slender hand descending with the full force of a life and death realm cultivator.

In that palm lay the potential to vanquish any saint heart realm cultivator.

The palm’s force seemed infused with a 30% killing intent, a palpable reminder of the girl’s demonic nature.

Despite her transformation into human form, she remained, at her core, a demon beast—a fact not lost on Braydon.

Today’s display of Braydon’s cultivation prowess had left the horned white snake in awe.

Undoubtedly, he was a rare prodigy among humans.

If eliminated prematurely, the demon race would have one less adversary to contend with in the future.

As the palm struck, Braydon surged from the pit, meeting it with a flurry of fist techniques.

Yet, he found himself unable to counter the overwhelming force—his reluctance to unleash his full potential evident.

Despite being imbued with heaven-defying techniques, Braydon refrained from utilizing them, opting instead to use the horned white snake’s challenge as a means of personal growth.

With each strike, the pit deepened, plummeting to a depth of over a thousand meters as Braydon’s body bore the brunt of the impact, contorting into a mere meatball.

Though severely wounded, the primordial chaos domain beneath him trembled, shrinking from two kilometers to just one—a slow but perceptible evolution.

This arduous process spanned an entire month—a grueling testament to Braydon’s perseverance.

Constantly suppressed by the girl’s palm, he confronted his most formidable obstacle yet, relying solely on his own mastery to navigate through.

Unable to rely on external aids, Braydon endured immense suffering, knowing that delaying his cultivation would only amplify the daunting challenges of future bottlenecks.

Reborn from this crucible of agony, Braydon’s domain finally reached completion—a mile in diameter.

From the meatball emerged Braydon, transformed and revitalized, exuding an aura befitting a monarch.

With perfect mastery over his power, his combat strength soared exponentially—ten thousandfold.

As he donned his new attire, Braydon cast a faint smile toward the white-clad girl above.

“You facilitated my breakthrough in three moves. I owe you one,” he acknowledged graciously.

“No need,” the girl responded, her fists involuntarily clenching.

She harbored regrets; though she had entertained thoughts of ending Braydon’s life during the past month, she refrained from acting.

Now, she yearned to witness the extent of his newfound power.

“Are you truly prepared to face me?” Braydon queried softly.

“In a month, my body has regained forty percent of its strength,” the girl declared confidently, implying a corresponding increase in her combat prowess.

Observing her stance, Braydon shifted sideways, his ten thousand mile domain condensing to a mere one mile as he raised his hand, poised for action.

A palm strike now showcased strength amplified ten thousandfold.

Stepping forward, the girl met his palm, neither yielding an inch.

Yet, she refrained from inflicting further harm, shaking her head in disappointment.

“You’re still too weak. You lack the right to challenge me,” she asserted.

“Is that so?”

Braydon’s grin widened, and behind him materialized the Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams—an emblem of martial prowess.

The first hexagram surged, augmenting his strength severalfold, tearing his white garments to shreds under its violent aura.

As his aura erupted, transforming into an azure dragon coiling around his form, it underscored Braydon’s primordial chaos body cultivation, boasting a combat strength ten thousand times superior to peers at the same level.

With the addition of the primordial chaos domain cultivation, his power surged once more, revealing his outer path.

The Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams unfurled, the first hexagram igniting Braydon’s aura into a violent display.

Each step forward conjured a spectral green lotus in the sky—a manifestation of his Green Lotus Path Saint Body, a testament to his formidable physique.

Amidst the diverse physiques across the universe, Braydon’s stood out as particularly terrifying.

With a faint smile, he manipulated the Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams with finesse—the first hexagram giving way to the second, then the third.

Divination three times.

Braydon’s body appeared to have undergone an unprecedented sublimation, rendering the manipulation of the Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams impossible.

It was as though he had reached the pinnacle of human capability.

Simultaneously, a change flickered across Braydon’s expression, as if he had stumbled upon something profound yet elusive.

This sensation proved incredibly challenging to grasp.

Concurrently, the other banished immortals sensed this peculiar feeling emanating from the original body—a sensation difficult to articulate, yet faintly perceptible.

In a synchrony precise to the second, “Son of Heaven’s Nine Strikes, attack!” echoed from both the various banished immortals and Braydon’s original form.

The transformation into the nine supremes amplified this sensation ninefold, channeling it back into Braydon’s body with unprecedented intensity.

What ensued was remarkable—a convergence of the martial arts banished immortal, ancient martial arts banished immortal, primordial chaos banished immortal, green lotus banished immortal, Foreman family banished immortal, Neal family banished immortal, and more—each channeling and amplifying this enigmatic feeling within themselves.

Undoubtedly, this collective effort exponentially increased the likelihood of breakthroughs and comprehension—a phenomenon that underscored the staggering efficacy of the Hundred Tribulations Heavenly Art, touted as the most miraculous technique in the universe over the past ten million years.

Undoubtedly, the situation was incredibly daunting.

Coincidentally, at this precise moment, deep within the universe, concealed in a secluded and obscure location, stood a figure draped in black robes—a figure renowned as one of the eight lineage chiefs of the human race and the architect behind the creation of the Soul Tower.

“Who has tampered with the Saint Restriction?!” he demanded, his voice resonating throughout the vast expanse of the Soul Tower.

But what was the Saint Restriction?

Unfortunately, silence greeted his inquiry.

Braydon, that cunning man, would never confess unless caught red-handed.

He was once a mischievous youth, raised alongside Luke Yates and the unruly lads from the Northern Army—a cohort brimming with mischief and mayhem.

If there was blame to be assigned for their misdeeds, it would inevitably fall on Braydon, their elder brother—or perhaps, they had all gotten their mischievous inclinations from him.

In that moment, Braydon appeared to have grasped something profound, as the peculiar sensation surged a hundredfold, abruptly drawing his attention.

 

Source: Webn0vel.com, updated on Novg0.co