Chapter 1286: Returning from Prison Break
Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
Braydon Neal’s expression soured.
“It takes 256 days just to condense a single drop of blood essence. That’s over eight months!”
“Condensing 206 drops will require a staggering 181 years…”
…
As he contemplated this, Braydon felt a wave of despair wash over him.
At just 22 years old, the thought of needing nearly two centuries to reach the divine realm was disheartening.
Becoming a divine was the dream of every martial artist, symbolizing unmatched prowess and longevity.
Entering the divine realm in 200 years was a feat of unparalleled talent.
Those who achieved such heights were considered prodigies of their generation.
However, to Braydon, 200 years felt like an eternity.
After years of relentless cultivation, the prospect of such a prolonged journey seed daunting.
Sitting in ditation, Braydon pondered his next steps.
Just mastering vitality required such a long ti.
He also had to cultivate the imperial path.
The ntal path was even more difficult to cultivate than vitality.
It was greatly dependent on a martial artist’s talent.
While diligence could propel one’s progress in vitality, comprehending the imperial path demanded innate talent.
It was a realm where hard work alone fell short.
With a profound sense of purpose, Braydon delved deeper into his cultivation, channeling his ntal power to manifest yet another ntal path above his head.
The golden ntal path stretched for a hundred ters, leading to a sword at its end—a three-foot-long blade standing tall.
Sword imperial path!
With closed eyes, Braydon delved into the depths of his consciousness, seeking to comprehend this new imperial path.
His pursuit startled everyone on the fifteenth floor of the Frost Prison.
“The second imperial path!” exclaid the barefoot old man, his voice tinged with horror.
“A twin imperial path!” another voice echoed, punctuating the astonishnt that rippled through the room.
Throughout history, few cultivators dared to tread two imperial paths.
It was a feat reserved for peerless geniuses, as mastering even one path was an arduous task that eluded most martial artists.
Yet here was Braydon, seated cross-legged, radiating a potent sword intent that seed capable of rending reality itself.
A sword emperor was born in the depths of the Frost Prison.
As ti flowed relentlessly, Braydon remained in seclusion, his aura saturated with the essence of the path.
He delved deeper into his cultivation, comprehending the imperial path.
Braydon’s journey of enlightennt continued unabated on the fifteenth floor.
As he plumbed the depths of the imperial path, the old denizens of the fifteenth floor could only watch in stunned silence, their minds reeling from the magnitude of his achievents.
Though ti marched on without pause, its passage bore witness to the ergence of nurous imperial paths.
A pale figure materialized behind Braydon—the martial arts banished immortal had reappeared.
It was uncertain how much ti had slipped by.
Yet, there was a noticeable change in the banished immortal; no longer dull and listless, its deanor now radiated with a hint of vitality, its spiritual essence having recovered by 30%.
Standing behind Braydon, the banished immortal regarded his main body impassively, its mory faintly recalling the ordeal where Braydon had probed it for the swallowed ntal power.
In a gesture of reciprocity, the banished immortal, now rejuvenated, expelled a luminous sphere that seamlessly lded into Braydon’s form.
The ntal power of the gods from the Oracle Palace, now purified and harnessed by the banished immortal, surged back into Braydon, revitalizing him.
As the influx of pure ntal power coalesced between Braydon’s brows, a fraction of the ntal power from the myriad warlock emperors was channeled and refined by the banished immortal, feeding into Braydon’s spiritual aperture.
Within his spiritual aperture, a golden river converged—the spirit river, signifying a warlock emperor’s prowess.
With a decisive breakthrough, Braydon ascended to the rank of spiritual warlock emperor, the shimring spirit river cascading above him, materializing into an imperial path forged from ntal power.
The awe-inspiring hundred-ter imperial path glead with unparalleled brilliance.
The cultivation of the path of arts intertwined with ntal power, linking the realms of warlock emperor and vitality emperor in an intricate dance of balance.
As Braydon traversed the path of the warlock emperor, he honed his chosen techniques while simultaneously delving deeper into martial arts.
Martial arts were inseparable from the path.
For in the primordial chaos, the heavens and earth birthed yin and yang, which in turn gave rise to the five elents—a testant to the immutable laws of creation.
The fundantal essence of heaven and earth rested upon the power of the five elents: tal, wood, water, fire, and earth.
Within these foundational elents lay the cornerstone of the world’s 30,000 techniques, an unassailable truth that even the forces of wind, lightning, rain and thunder could not avoid.
Yet, attaining mastery over these primal forces and harnessing their ultimate power was akin to reaching for the heavens—a feat achieved only by the elite few who ascended to the pinnacle of their craft.
Those who possessed such power were warlock divines—a title befitting those who delved into the path of the first generation Divine Lord Jordan Neal.
He had mastered the martial arts banished immortal and was renowned for his mastery over 30,000 mortal techniques.
He alone could go up against 30,000 warlock divines, a testant to Jordan’s boundless ambition.
However, Jordan’s grand aspirations ultimately t with failure.
His lofty goals, had they been realized, would have secured him a place as the foremost figure in history, perhaps even granting him the coveted gift of eternal life.
As Braydon ventured into the warlock emperor realm, he confronted a pivotal choice: to imrse himself in the path of arts.
It was at this juncture that the martial arts banished immortal strode onto the hundred-ter imperial path above Braydon’s head, his deanor poised as he declared, “I am the culmination of this path. I am the master of 30,000 techniques!”
The path of the warlock emperor beckoned, and the banished immortal erged to assert its dominion.
With the ability to command the entirety of the 30,000 techniques, Braydon’s path unfolded without the need to select a single technique as his primary focus—a privilege granted by the presence of the banished immortal at the path’s end.
For the banished immortals, this was their destiny—a living embodint of the civilization of techniques, their existence imbued with profound significance.
As Braydon’s eyes snapped open, a formidable aura radiated forth, heralding the dawn of a new era.
The ti spent in seclusion within the Frost Prison was a mystery to Braydon.
Yet, amidst the shroud of uncertainty, one undeniable truth erged—he had gained imnsely from this solitary contemplation.
Both his martial arts and ancient martial arts had ascended to the emperor realm, harboring within his being ten hidden imperial paths, a feat unseen for generations.
It was once said that with Braydon’s unparalleled talent, he could ascend to the ranks of the tri-emperor realm and challenge those destined for the throne.
However, his ti within the Frost Prison had redefined his prowess.
The comprehension of the ten imperial paths posed a question—how does one gauge their own martial strength?
If Braydon were to forsake the distractions of the outside world, trivial matters would hold no sway over him.
If he were to erge from seclusion, the outside world would behold him not as a re prodigy, but as a force to be reckoned with, akin to a formidable presence entering a forest, silencing the clamor of hundreds of birds.
Standing amidst the aura that enveloped the fifteenth level of the Frost Prison, Braydon dispelled the Mount Sino Sword Talisman and inquired, “How much ti has elapsed?”
“I, I don’t know,” stamred the barefooted old man, a tinge of fear coloring his deanor as he recounted Braydon’s monstrous breakthrough.
They bore witness as he delved into the ten imperial paths, a feat that left them in awe.
Furrowing his brows, Braydon conveyed his reluctance to remain within the confines of the Frost Prison any longer.
The Oracle Palace was in ruins, and the Donta Imperial Dynasty was asserting control over the 16th ruin.
Braydon was imprisoned here due to the appearance of a divine-level martial artist.
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