Chapter 1368: The Alliance Chief Arrives in Person
Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
Dominic Lowe had toiled for most of his life and deserved to enjoy his later years in peace.
With those words, Braydon Neal clasped his hands behind his back and ascended into the sky.
Draped in garnts as white as snow, he surged forward with incredible speed, the wind whipping around him.
At a staggering rate of 9,000 ters per second, he left behind a resounding sonic boom as he soared.
Yet, amidst his departure, Judith Neal’s cries echoed from the manor. “Daddy, please don’t go,” the little girl sobbed, stirring Heather Sage from her slumber.
“Mommy, I want to help Daddy,” chid in Trevon Neal, his eyes pleading.
Heather, bending down to console her son, reassured him, “Trevon, you’re still young. There will be ti for you to assist Daddy when you’re older.”
As the family of four faced separation once more, Braydon pressed onward, committed to the path he had chosen.
Crossing borders with spatial translocation, he traversed the skies within the nation, a show of force to assert his presence.
This display served as a warning to any who dared challenge him, a reminder that Braydon remained a force to be reckoned with.
anwhile, on South Pole Island, ten thousand people, spanning generations, awaited the arrival of soone significant.
Today, the leader of the Global Martial Artist Alliance would arrive at South Pole Island, representing both the alliance and the hundred countries in declaring war on the ruins.
This alliance chief harbored ambitions to conquer the ruins.
On the distant horizon, Braydon strode across the waves, a commanding presence.
“Alliance Chief!” Finley Yanagi, Martial Emperor Yanagi, and others bowed respectfully before him.
“Alliance Chief!” Elders from various countries, diverse in skin color, all humbled themselves before Braydon, the world’s foremost expert.
“Send a hundred individuals to accompany into the 40th ruin,” Braydon, also the Alliance Chief, requested calmly.
“We’ll accompany you, Brother!” Jonah Shaw and others stepped forward, embodying the new order established by the Northern Army n, now overlords.
However, Braydon’s expression shifted as he addressed Luke Yates, “Co with . The rest, guard the 16th ruin. From today, I care not for my own life. The Northern Army will protect the 16th ruin. Disregard any orders, even from the Martial Emperor!”
The 16th ruin, the foundational safe zone, was paramount.
All in the Northern Army were bound by this decree, hidden agents included, who now understood their course of action should Braydon fall.
“Brother!” Luke, accompanied by his trusty donkey, approached. “I want to bring my donkey along,” he declared breathlessly.
“It’s your decision. The remaining 99 will be selected from the Global Martial Artist Alliance,” Braydon stated, hands clasped behind his back, his authority undisputed.
“Yes, sir!”
Heads bowed in deference.
Braydon’s words held the weight of the Alliance Chief.
In less than fifteen minutes, Haven Downing, Jaziel Sherman, Lior Neal, Jovon Stanton, Korbyn Jessen, Zyaire Tackett, Elston Jemison, Martin Lovett, Brady Thurman and Shawn Jeffcoat had all assembled.
They represented the Ten Great Empires, with so holding the position of deputy chief of the alliance.
Intent on venturing together, they occupied ten spots, each requiring roughly nine additional mbers to complete their hundred-man team.
Without hesitation, the hundred-man team was swiftly organized, with no one backing down.
Perhaps each mber had steeled themselves for the possibility of sacrificing their lives, recognizing the imminent threat posed by the aborigines of the ruins to the entire world.
This battle was inevitable.
Standing before the 40th bronze door, where ninety percent of the main door had succumbed to corrosion, Braydon’s group faced a daunting prospect.
Sensing the tension, Luke, ever the opportunist, suggested, “Why not get them to be the scouts?”
His suggestion prompted looks of displeasure from Jaziel and the rest.
Addressing the group with solemnity, Braydon laid out their mission.
“Once we enter, I’ll lead the charge. Your task is to secure the storage equipnt from the aboriginal experts. Understood?”
“Northern King Neal, we aren’t weak! We can help you!” a fair-skinned emperor from the Iota Empire said sincerely.
Despite the protest, Braydon, however, cautioned against underestimating the power of divines.
“You don’t comprehend the true terror of a divine. Before them, emperors are re ants.”
With resolve in his gaze, Braydon pressed his left hand against the bronze door fra, causing it to collapse inward.
The passageway had opened!
With a swift swoosh, Braydon darted inside.
Beyond the bronze door awaited twenty-seven divine-level creatures—plant demons, spirit beasts, and even aboriginal divine-level characters.
“There are intruders!” bellowed a silver-winged flood dragon, but the warning ca too late.
Braydon plunged in, swift and silent.
Without hesitation, he unleashed nine Shadow Flying Daggers with a re thought, releasing all three banished immortals in a single fluid motion.
A flick of his wrist sent a surge of power rippling through the air, killing divine-level creatures with ease.
Green Lotus, wielding the path of ti, erged as the most formidable adversary.
Activating the ti domain, he reigned supre.
Yet, Braydon, in tandem with the three banished immortals, swiftly killed eight divine-level creatures.
In a re seven seconds, eight divine-level characters lay vanquished.
Luke, unable to contain his awe, muttered, “How incredible!”
anwhile, Haven and the hundred others stood in stunned silence, astonished by Braydon’s unfathomable might.
It was no wonder he had pacified the 16th ruin.
The sheer combat prowess was truly staggering!
“Extre divine!” roared the silver-winged flood dragon.
“Who are you?!” demanded the eighteen surviving divine-level characters, imdiately dispersing.
Braydon stood proudly in the sky, flanked by the three banished immortals.
His lips parted slightly. “Spirit Summoning Art. Convert all plants into swords!”
With a swift swoosh, the strongest sword intent manifested, transforming all flora and foliage into lethal blades.
“The Heavenly Mountain Sovereign Lord!” quivered the silver-winged flood dragon. “The eighth successor?”
Terror gripped the aborigines.
A millennium prior, the Seventh Sovereign Lord had instilled fear throughout the ruins.
Now, the heir of Heavenly Mountain had erged.
“A thousand years have passed,” murmured one of the aborigines in a hushed tone. “He can’t be the sa elder from the eighth generation. He must be the ninth!”
“Attack!” roared a vine plant demon, driven to madness.
They had neared victory, on the cusp of breaching the bronze door, only to face a formidable adversary.
The sword intent pervading the heavens was as chilling as frost.
Within, Braydon closed his eyes and spoke softly,
“I recognize the Spirit Sea Xander Lastor’s sword. It exudes purity and terror. Its manifestation signifies the singular path of the sword!”
“The sword path domain does evoke a sense of familiarity,” Braydon’s voice resonated with the weight of experience.
Indeed, Xander’s sword left an indelible impression on Braydon.
That familiar sensation was akin to a past possession of such a domain—a sense of déjà vu washed over him.
The intensity of the sword intent surged, enveloping Braydon.
He closed his eyes, and an unfamiliar power slowly emanated from his being.
“A domain?” exclaid Star Tower’s artifact spirit in astonishnt.
Entering the second realm!
Braydon’s body already hosted a ti domain, as comprehended by the Green Lotus Banished Immortal.
Now, he stood on the brink of understanding a second domain—the sword path domain.
Previously, Xander’s sword had nudged Braydon towards this breakthrough, albeit faintly.
Hindered by Trevon’s presence, he had suppressed this urge.
But now, the opportune mont had arrived.
Within a hundred-ter radius of Braydon, an overwhelming pressure expelled external forces, signifying the ergence of an invisible domain.
With a swift swoosh, the swords wielded by Haven and the others humd to life.
They levitated in midair, blades flexing as if bowing before their master’s newfound power.
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