The Strongest War God

Chapter 1285: Longevity of 700 Years

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Unfortunately, he had picked the wrong adversary.

Braydon Neal fixed his gaze on the barefooted old man before releasing a surge of pressure.

A radiant golden light emerged, accompanied by an overwhelming imperial aura, imbued with the intent to vanquish his foe.

The old man’s expression turned ghostly pale, his voice trembling with horror. “Emperor! An emperor!”

“An emperor at such a young age?” murmured the inmates on the fifteenth level, startled by the revelation.

Quick to retreat, the barefooted elder hastily apologized, “Please forgive me, young friend. I’ll leave at once!”

“The Oracle Palace is growing increasingly audacious. Imprisoning a young emperor?” cursed one.

“The woman in charge is becoming more unhinged,” muttered another voice in the darkness. “Everything falls apart when a woman leads!”

Locked away with only bitterness in their hearts, the prisoners harbored no kind words for Rayha Qhobela.

Instead, their words were filled with curses and disdain.

A young emperor held great promise in the outside world.

Yet, here he was, reduced to the same fate as them—a prisoner, destined to endure the shadows.

Uninterested in their banter, Braydon assumed a cross-legged position, issuing a stern warning. “Stay at least a hundred meters away from me.”

With a wave of his hand, Braydon inscribed talismans in the air within a hundred-meter radius—countless Mount Sino Sword Talismans, poised to strike down any intruder.

Having assimilated Kingsley Jansky’s memories and consumed the mental power from Jitu Masilela, Waga Yeboah, and the other warlock emperors, Braydon now focused on breaking through the final barrier to ascend to the warlock emperor realm.

Braydon unlocked the eight techniques, forging a martial arts banished immortal.

A white figure materialized, though this time, the martial arts banished immortal seemed somewhat vacant, his expression dulled like that of a lifeless doll.

With 90% of his spirituality lost, it left the martial arts banished immortal nearly crippled.

Yet, Braydon and the banished immortal showed no signs of regret.

Rayha tried to harm Braydon’s children, a move that triggered Braydon’s determination to eliminate her at any cost.

The martial arts banished immortal appeared bewildered, uncertain of his next move.

“Release the mental power you absorbed earlier!” Braydon instructed him softly.

However, the banished immortal’s vacant eyes betrayed no comprehension; he regarded Braydon with a blank stare, oblivious to his words.

Braydon grimaced, realizing the difficulty of the situation.

Without relying on the banished immortal’s mental power, achieving the status of warlock emperor through his own cultivation was possible but time-consuming.

Contemplating his options, Braydon resorted to a rather unconventional method—he reached out to pinch the banished immortal’s face and attempted to extract his mental power, a seemingly absurd endeavor.

The banished immortal reacted like a clueless child, crying out in confusion, his understanding limited to tears.

Frustrated, Braydon grappled with a headache.

How could he coax the banished immortal into relinquishing his mental power in such a state?

The ordeal stretched on for two days without any progress, leaving Braydon no choice but to retract the banished immortal into his body to nurture him further, hoping he would eventually regain some spirituality and willingly relinquish the absorbed mental power.

Seated cross-legged, Braydon projected his mental power, shaping a mental path—a majestic golden imperial path extending for a hundred meters.

At the end of the path stood a sword.

It was the sword imperial path.

Meanwhile, the old figures on the fifteenth floor observed from a distance, their curiosity piqued.

They couldn’t comprehend why Braydon was not cultivating mental power and was instead pursuing the sword imperial path.

But as for the path beyond the emperor realm, Braydon was well-versed.

He understood the necessity of selecting and committing to a martial path upon attaining the status of emperor.

And he wasn’t lacking in formidable martial artists by his side.

Upon reaching the emperor realm, one had to choose a martial path and stick to it till the end.

Vitality martial artists had two paths.

Firstly, they could utilize the imperial path as their offensive technique.

Secondly, they needed to refine their vitality.

At the pinnacle realm, one’s vitality circulated, sustaining life for up to 500 years.

However, upon ascending to the emperor realm, the practitioner had to refine their blood into bone marrow, which was refining one’s blood into their bones.

The structure of a martial artist’s body comprised blood, flesh, and bones.

By fortifying the bones, they could store more vitality, thus prolonging their lifespan to seven hundred years.

This process involved the repair and strengthening of the 206 bones in the human body, including 80 axial skeletons and 126 appendicular skeletons.

For those who employed the imperial path as their primary offensive technique, they were known as vitality emperors.

Seated cross-legged, Braydon contemplated his current state.

Despite his vast reserves of vitality at 2.56 million Na—the pinnacle limit—he had yet to transcend the quasi-emperor realm.

His cultivation focused on nurturing the three red lotuses, an endeavor distinct from other practices.

In a swift motion, Braydon retracted his mental path, revealing a golden sword seemingly suspended within his body.

Emperor golden sword!

The blade sliced through the bones, infusing vitality into the bones.

Braydon’s aura became tumultuous and erratic.

In his left leg, where the appendicular skeletons converged, a surge of vitality erupted forth.

It was the same power that Braydon had tapped into when he reached the pinnacle realm atop Mount Tanish.

Back then, he had utilized 100,000 Na of vitality as the foundation, concealing it within his bones.

Now, that power erupted once more, facilitating Braydon’s breakthrough without any hindrance.

His vitality surged like mighty rivers, his blood vessels akin to coiled dragons.

Vitality overflowed like a swarm of bees.

The emperor golden sword lay concealed within Braydon’s body, exerting control over his vitality, condensing into a single drop of crimson blood.

This crystal-clear droplet resembled a radiant red diamond, containing the entirety of Braydon’s vitality.

2.56 million Na of vitality condensed into a solitary drop—this was blood essence!

By harnessing the essence of blood hidden within the bones, one could extend their lifespan by 700 years.

But the journey to the emperor realm was far from easy.

The emperor realm was difficult to achieve, much less achieving the divine realm.

Breaking through to the divine realm was a one-in-ten-thousand possibility, requiring not only exceptional talent but also a vast reservoir of resources.

Many powerful factions failed to produce a divine-level individual, despite exhausting their reserves.

It was still feasible to nurture a new emperor, but nurturing a divine bordered on the impossible.

As Braydon’s blood melded into his bones, his aura surged tenfold.

What was once a youthful appearance now exuded a fearsome majesty, hinting at the immense power concealed within.

He had seamlessly transitioned into the emperor realm.

His vitality and imperial path had both achieved the emperor realm.

Capable of living for 700 years, he was now the youthful emperor, the Northern King!

At the age of twenty-two, he ascended to the emperor realm.

Braydon opened his eyes and let out a sigh.

He furrowed his brows.

“All the vitality cultivated at the pinnacle realm has been converted into a drop of blood essence. Merging blood essence with the bones requires 206 drops of blood essence, corresponding to the 206 bones in the human body.”

The thought left Braydon on the brink of despair.

Vitality martial arts proved exceedingly arduous to cultivate—demanding both extensive power accumulation and resource consumption, necessitating patience and persistence.

Rushing through the cultivation process often led to Qi deviation and setbacks.

“One drop of blood essence contains 2.56 million Na of vitality,” Braydon murmured softly. “My Great Void of Kylo Art has reached the fifth level. Each night of cultivation allows me to condense a wisp of purple Qi, boosting my vitality by 10,000 Na.”