The Strongest War God - Chapter 1279
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Chapter 1279: The First Generation Jordan Neal Has Been Awakened
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Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
Braydon Neal nurtured the banished immortal.
It was a twin with Braydon, inheriting everything from him.
In a sense, it was like another Braydon.
Unfortunately, the banished immortal possessed a spiritual body, but it wielded a completely different kind of power, distinct from mental power.
When the banished immortal manifested, it retained all traits from his original form.
Though possessing its own consciousness, it shared the same mindset as Braydon.
The two children at Preston were also offspring of the martial arts banished immortal.
With a swift motion, it brushed past the golden prison, instantly shattering it.
The mental power of the hundred warlock emperors was abruptly severed by an invisible force.
The mental power they released was completely nullified.
Naturally, the one behind this feat was the martial arts banished immortal.
He absorbed all the released mental power, leaving the warlock emperors stunned.
Jitu Masilela’s face paled as he spat out blood, a sight mirrored by others.
Their mental powers were permanently disrupted, akin to losing a portion of their cultivation.
The banished immortal’s voice rang out coldly, “Who granted you such audacity to harm my children?”
The terrifying aspect of the banished immortal lay in its formless and non-physical body, and it was nurtured by Braydon.
Yet, Braydon and it were inherently linked.
Hence, the banished immortal possessed a somewhat demonic aura.
Waga Yeboah and others paled, realizing they had provoked the martial arts banished immortal.
“We don’t know who harmed the Young Divine Lord’s descendant,” one said hoarsely.
“If you don’t know, someone does,” the banished immortal responded sharply, eyes fixed on a nearby palace.
Four figures emerged from within.
Rayha Qhobela, the man in green robes, Qwara Qhobela, and Xetsa Yeza entered the Hall of Edicts.
There, they stumbled upon the martial arts banished immortal and a blood-stained Braydon on the verge of wreaking havoc within the hall.
Who had pushed Braydon to this edge?
Upon catching sight of the banished immortal, the green-clad man’s eyes betrayed a flicker of fear as he silently trailed behind him.
Martial arts banished immortals held sway over martial practitioners worldwide, rendering martial techniques futile in their presence.
Spells proved ineffectual against them, showcasing the true terror they wielded.
Xetsa inquired urgently. “Braydon, what’s going on?”
“Kill them!”
Braydon commanded, casting a glance at the martial arts banished immortal.
“These people deserve death,” the banished immortal remarked casually. “How could I spare those who harmed my children?”
Xetsa’s complexion paled.
“You know about it?” the green-clad man exclaimed, a mixture of shock and indignation.
The banished immortal and Braydon were inseparable.
The banished immortal’s children were Braydon’s children; the two were intertwined.
The green-clad man and others present grasped the gravity of the banished immortal’s words.
At that moment, the man in green realized the gravity of the situation.
He hadn’t anticipated that Braydon would find out about the Oracle Palace’s actions.
Who had divulged this top-secret information?
“You’ve erred gravely, yet you fail to repent,” Rayha spoke calmly. “Due to your overzealous pursuit of power, it is leading to your descent into madness. Henceforth, you will be imprisoned for three years within the Divine Prison as penance!”
Rayha sought to imprison Braydon, subjecting him to three years of incarceration.
Braydon regarded her impassively, recognizing that his adversary today wasn’t the deities of the Oracle Palace but Rayha, the Great Divine Priest of the 16th Oracle Palace.
Rayha intended to imprison Braydon, but she needed the consent of the martial arts banished immortal.
“Even if my essence dissipates tonight, I’ll still end you,” declared the banished immortal, his gaze fixed on Rayha.
The banished immortal shared Braydon’s resolve, both deeply devoted to their children.
Yet, as a father, neither could return to see their children.
They had hoped their children would grow up safe from harm in the outside world.
Little did they anticipate the Oracle Palace’s sinister intentions toward their children.
Even if Rayha was Sadie Dudley’s mother, she too had to perish.
“You lack the strength to challenge me,” Rayha retorted softly.
“Have you forgotten the dread of the Oracle Palace under the Spirit Summoning Monarch Art?” The banished immortal remained impassive.
“What are you going to do?” the green-clad man interjected, visibly astonished.
“The Spirit Summoning Monarch Art?” Rayha Water’s eyes widened in realization.
None among the Great Divine Priests in the Oracle Palaces could forget the Spirit Summoning Monarch Art—the most terrifying restrictive spell in history.
An ancient forbidden technique capable of rending heavens and earth asunder.
Was history about to repeat itself?
The banished immortal stood proudly in the human realm, his eyes ablaze with lethal intent.
“I’ve made it clear before. Even if my essence fades tonight, I’ll still end you. Lay a finger on my children, and I’ll raze all 3,000 Oracle Palaces to the ground!” banished immortal’s words dripped with menace.
In an instant, the banished immortal traversed the skies and bellowed icily, “Summoning three forbidden techniques!”
Within the Spirit Summoning Monarch Art lay numerous forbidden techniques, akin to the cataclysmic event when the heavens descended three thousand miles, capable of annihilation.
Yet today, the banished immortal figure unleashed a forbidden technique surpassing mortal understanding.
The Spirit Summoning Monarch Art possessed the ability to summon all entities in existence, even invoking ancient titans of old, as witnessed now.
“Summoning the first forbidden technique! Summon the Divine Lord Jordan Neal to manifest in the mortal realm!” the banished immortal proclaimed.
“Summoning the second forbidden technique! Awaken the Green Lotus God, Kingsley Jansky!”
“Summoning the third forbidden technique! Summoning the return of the Seventh Sovereign Lord of Heavenly Mountain!”
The dread inspired by the Spirit Summoning Monarch Art exceeded common perception—a terrifying forbidden technique capable of laying waste to the three realms.
The banished immortal’s words brought an unsettling calm to the world.
Crimson clouds materialized in the sky.
“Stop!” the green-clad man exclaimed in shock. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Bastard!” Rayha echoed the sentiment, her expression tinged with fear.
The banished immortal’s use of such potent Spirit Summoning Art indicated his unwavering determination to slay Rayha, even at the cost of his own essence dissipating entirely.
Moments later, a crimson tempest swept across the Donta Imperial City, instilling an unexplained dread among its aboriginal martial artists, as though a fearsome entity was about to awaken.
From atop the dome, a young man dressed in white gradually emerged from the scarlet tribulation clouds.
Towering at seven feet with a slender build, his hair tied under a black hat, clad in a flowing white robe, he descended gracefully from the heavens.
What struck fear was his uncanny resemblance to Braydon—they appeared as one.
Or more precisely, Braydon, the banished immortal, and the figure emerging from the crimson clouds bore a striking similarity.
The first-generation Divine Lord, Jordan Neal, creator of martial arts banished immortals and pioneer leading martial arts to its peak, had returned.
He had descended upon the human world!
It seemed surreal, yet undeniably profound.
A formidable presence had indeed manifested.
Jordan had long passed away.
What made it truly chilling was that the Spirit Summoning Monarch Art had brought him forth.
In this moment, blood trickled from the corner of the martial arts banished immortal’s lips, and the radiant aura surrounding him appeared permanently diminished by three percent.
Summoning such a being demanded a price, after all.
The First Divine Lord had returned.
Descending from the heavens, he boomed with a voice reminiscent of a resounding bronze bell, “Who has roused me from slumber?”