The Strongest War God - Chapter 1353 - Chapter 1353: Shocking Battle Results

Chapter 1353: Shocking Battle Results

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Before the 16th ancient city, devastation stretched as far as the eye could see.

The once-thriving metropolis lay in ruins, surrounded by scorched earth and remnants of violent energies, including scattered divine blood exuding a palpable aura of menace—a testament to the ferocity of the divine realm battle that had raged here.

As for the bronze door, more than half of it had succumbed to corrosion from the green liquid, although its relentless decay had been halted.

The perpetrators aiming to destroy the bronze door had met their end at Braydon Neal’s hands.

He stood before the door with his left hand gently resting upon its surface.

With a moment of concentration, Braydon closed his eyes briefly before commanding, “Open!”

It was a known fact that the bronze door could only be unsealed from the outside, requiring a mastery of formation texts and spatial laws.

Fortunately, Braydon’s proficiency in spatial techniques rendered the task manageable—merely a matter of making subtle adjustments to the door’s mechanism.

With only half of the bronze door remaining, it swung open suddenly, eliciting shock from all present on South Pole Island.

The significance of this event was not lost on them; the unsealing of the bronze door from the inside spelled trouble for those outside.

Before the 16th bronze door, a congregation of significant figures had assembled.

Among them were more than a thousand venerable elders, each appearing to be in their sixties.

Finley Yanagi, Martial Emperor Yanagi, Beckett Neal, and others had all gathered, alongside experts representing various nations from across the globe.

When disaster loomed, none could remain indifferent.

Half a year prior, in anticipation of impending crises, the world’s elite martial artists had formed an alliance—the Global Martial Artist Alliance.

This coalition had united the foremost martial talents under a central authority known as the Imperial Palace, an organization exclusively open to emperor-level characters or those with a proven history of vanquishing them.

Now, as more than 90% of the island’s influential figures congregated at the entrance, Lowell Neal voiced his concerns solemnly: “It’s been ten months since the 16th bronze door closed. Braydon and the others are inside. We can only hope for their safety.”

A shadow of worry flickered in Martial Emperor Yanagi’s eyes, though they remained helpless in the face of uncertainty.

Despite the presence of numerous emperors, those responsible for breaching the bronze door were all divine-level figures hailing from various ruins—a distinction with a vast power disparity.

As Braydon had previously emphasized, the gulf between an emperor and a divine was staggering, with the latter holding an incomparable advantage.

In this critical moment, numbers held little sway; what mattered was the quality of combat prowess.

None of the 3,000 bronze doors were opened yet.

Even with even one bronze door opened, the outside world would not be able to defend against the onslaught!

With agonizing slowness, the 16th bronze door began to creak open.

Each passing second felt like an eternity, a torment for all present.

The tension in the air was palpable as the anticipation mounted.

As the activation process dragged on for more than ten seconds, Finley’s expression grew increasingly grave, casting a stifling atmosphere over the entire assembly.

Everyone understood the inevitable truth: once an aboriginal divine-level character emerged, no one present would be able to halt their advance.

When the bronze door finally yielded, Finley’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected sight that greeted him.

Walking out with serene composure was none other than Braydon, clad in white robes.

The collective shock among the elderly onlookers was palpable; they had been poised for battle, expecting aboriginal inhabitants to emerge, yet instead, it was Braydon who returned, accompanied by his Northern Army comrades.

“Teachers, Grandpa!” Braydon acknowledged his two teachers and his grandfather, Graham Neal, with a nod as he stepped out.

“Braydon, you…” Beckett began, his voice tinged with astonishment.

“In the 16th ruin, there are no fewer than 30 divine-level characters!” Finley revealed, his words hanging heavily in the air.

The staggering magnitude of this revelation weighed upon the assembly; with 30 divine-level characters unleashed upon the outside world, they would be virtually unstoppable.

The recent destruction of the 16th bronze door had been attributed to an aboriginal divine, yet now, Braydon had emerged—defying expectations and raising further questions about the events within the ruins.

What did this signify?

Braydon’s faint smile belied the gravity of his words.

“Earlier, there were 35 divine-level characters. Rayha Qhobela escaped. I took care of the rest.”

“What?”

Finley’s shock was palpable.

Had Braydon attained the prowess of a divine slayer?

The speed of his growth was nothing short of terrifying.

Beckett was equally astounded.

Initially regarding Braydon as a mere youngster, he now beheld an individual they revered—an entity capable of slaying divines, with a proven track record no less.

In the 16th ruin, among the 35 divine-level characters, none remained alive save for one—Braydon had dealt with them all.

Such a staggering feat catapulted Braydon to unparalleled heights, making him the foremost figure in the martial world.

The Northern King reigned supreme, his martial prowess unmatched.

In the wake of this revelation, disbelief shrouded more than half of those present.

The notion of a young man single-handedly dispatching 34 divine-level characters seemed inconceivable, even in their wildest imaginings.

Regardless of their doubts, Braydon remained unfazed, turning to Martial Emperor Yanagi with a soft request: “Teacher, I wish to hold a state funeral in a week.”

“Alright,” Martial Emperor Yanagi responded without hesitation.

He understood that over the past ten months, the elite warriors of the Northern Army had endured heavy losses in the ruins—a sacrifice deserving of solemn remembrance.

The casualties from the battles were likely staggering.

Luther Carden and the others emerged from behind Braydon as the Northern Army flag fluttered, signaling the continuous procession of troops through the bronze door.

Each step brought forth more black coffins, solemnly borne out one after the other.

Initially, the significance of the procession may have been overlooked.

After all, the harsh realities of the ruins were well-known, where death in battle was an all too common occurrence.

However, as the procession continued, a heavy pall settled over the assembly.

The sight was sobering—300,000 coffins shrouded in the black flags of the Northern Army.

And that was just the beginning.

The casualties extended beyond the Northern Army to include the elite forces of the Gray Wolf Army, Sanguine Army, Groot Army, and Phoenix Army.

The sheer magnitude of the loss was staggering, with a million black coffins stretching beyond the capacity of South Pole Island.

The emotion was evident in Martial Emperor Yanagi’s voice as he addressed Braydon. “How did so many fall in battle, Braydon?” he inquired, his voice tinged with hoarseness.

“The aborigines, spirit beasts, and plant demons were all mobilized,” Luther responded. “Hundreds of millions of enemies besieged Zunde Royal City day and night. Were it not for the plant essence my brother sent, the casualties would have been even greater.”

Luther’s sigh of relief conveyed acceptance rather than resentment or regret.

Their mission was clear—to establish a safe haven within the 16th ruin.

In that pursuit, there was no room for remorse.

Martial Emperor Yanagi and the others could vividly envision the harrowing battles endured by the Northern Army over the past ten months.

“The state funeral will take place in seven days,” Braydon announced softly.

“Yes, sir!” came the unanimous response from the Northern Army men.

The fallen soldiers of the 16th ruin would not be laid to rest quietly.

Their valor demanded recognition, unwavering and undiminished.

Braydon issued another directive: “The families of our fallen soldiers will receive compensation from the Northern Army. Additionally, discreetly instruct the commissioners of the 23 provinces to provide support for these families.”

“Understood,” Luther affirmed, taking personal responsibility for the task.

Everyone present was familiar with Braydon’s character.

If any of the families of the fallen soldiers or their orphans faced mistreatment, Braydon’s response would undoubtedly be swift and severe—a lesson for all to heed.