Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
How formidable was Matu Joko, the Divine Son, recorded on the golden stone tablet?
Regrettably, Matu had already passed away, his name long since struck from the golden stone tablet.
Braydon Neal stood before the tablet, his spear gripped in hand, lips barely moving.
âSecond place, Kalei Kgomo!â
âThird place, Loba Bhota!â
âFourth place, Yeften Chirwa!â
âFifth place, Fakihi Biyela.â
âSixth place, Soja Lamola!â
âSeventh place, Sule Yaffe.â
âEighth place, Saedy Yaffe.â
âNinth place, Jaali Sibisi!â
âTenth place, Gatimu Masilela.â
â¦
Before him, Braydon softly recited the names of ten individuals.
Each one a prodigy of the Hall of Edicts, none weaker than Divine Son Matu.
Yet now, they had all been marked by Braydon.
The Oracle Palace had aroused Braydonâs wrath.
Intent on slaying the elites of the Oracle Palace, Braydon sought to teach Rayha Qhobela her limits.
Secluded in his residence, Braydon seldom ventured out.
Half the Hall of Edicts had never laid eyes on him.
They had only heard rumors of a descendant of the Divine Lord taking the God Slaying Bow from its sacred statue.
Now, Braydon stood in the Hall of Edicts, the news of his presence spreading swiftly.
The instructors of the Hall of Edicts were revered as gods, true warlock emperors!
A middle-aged man cloaked in purple approached, announcing, âYoung Divine Lord, the Great Divine Priest has tasked me with overseeing your academic affairs exclusively.â
âGet lost within ten seconds,â Braydon retorted, his intent murderous.
Was he there for a lesson?
No, the Northern King had come to spill blood!
The purple-robed godâs countenance shifted slightly.
He hadnât anticipated Braydonâs flippant disregard.
This would complicate their future interactions.
Failure to fulfill the Great Divine Priestâs directives would bring its own set of problems.
âYoung Divine Lord, the Great Divine Priestâs mandates are both prophecy and command. You and I are bound to obey,â the purple-robed deity asserted gravely.
In a flash, Braydon thrust his spear forward, a glint of cold steel accompanying his escalating hostility.
His spear intent could rend the heavens!
Enraged, the purple-robed god hadnât foreseen Braydonâs assault.
As a teacher of the Hall of Edicts, being attacked by a student constituted severe disobedience.
According to Oracle Palace regulations, such transgressions warranted immediate execution as a deterrent.
Yet, within the Oracle Palace, who would dare lay hands on the progeny of the Divine Lord?
Not even Rayha possessed the audacity.
The purple-robed godâs form shifted, engulfed in flames with a mere thought, transforming into a majestic, fiery godâa symbol of nobility and power.
He embodied the stature of a god!
Today, Braydon had slain a god.
The attack on Braydonâs family had ignited a primal rage within him, one only appeased by fresh blood.
Chaos consumed the Hall of Edicts as students gazed skyward, anticipating the rare spectacle unfolding before them.
How many years had passed since such a challenge transpired within these hallowed halls?
The purple-robed god seethed with indignation. âYoung Divine Lord, do you comprehend the gravity of assaulting a teacher as a student?â
Yet Braydon paid him no heed.
None of Braydonâs instructors were to be trifled with.
Did this purple-robed god truly possess the qualifications to instruct him?
Braydon grasped the emperor weapon in his left hand, channeling its hostility to its fullest extent.
Controlled by quasi-emperor Braydon, the emperor-level weapon held the potential to unleash his full combat prowess.
However, the emperor-level weapon could not be unleashed as an emperorâs will coursed through the Oracle Palace.
Forced into action, the purple-robed god invoked fervently, âFlames of Art, scorch the heavens!â
With a swoosh, his mental power intertwined seamlessly with the world, igniting crimson flames that soared into the sky, reaching temperatures of nine thousand degrees Celsius.
The inferno spanned a hundred miles, sucking the air from its surroundings.
All present felt the searing heat and crushing pressure.
Even their breaths stung, tainted with the scent of burning.
The flames surged toward Braydon, yet he remained undaunted.
His physique, mental power, and vitality had all been honed simultaneously, reaching the quasi-emperor realm.
Why should he fear flames licking at his skin?
With a firm grip on his spear, Braydon thrust forward boldly, piercing through the vacuum and dispersing a hundred miles of flame.
His speed, clocking at 2,000 meters per second, surpassed that of an ordinary emperor.
In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance.
The purple-robed god, though formidable, was taken aback by Braydonâs sheer physical strength.
Martial arts practitioners did not cultivate their physique.
While others focused solely on mental power, Braydon had fortified his body.
Reacting swiftly, the purple-robed god erected a mental barrier to deflect Braydonâs spear while conjuring his spell.
The flames morphed into thirteen crimson chains, swirling menacingly in the sky and slashing toward Braydon.
âShatter!â
Braydon commanded, directing his spear toward the golden barrier before him.
Unfazed by the onslaught of chains, he remained fixated on his singular objectiveâthe purple-robed god.
With a resounding crack, the golden barrier fractured under the force of Braydonâs assault.
In an instant, it ruptured!
The spear, akin to a dragon, surged forward with even greater velocity.
Within a single breath, it traversed 4,000 meters, its momentum escalating.
Braydonâs form emitted a radiant white light, a manifestation of one of his eight techniques, instant technique.
His newfound speed exceeded ten times the speed of sound.
What recourse did the purple-robed god have to evade?
The spear impaled the deityâs chest, pinning him against the Hall of Edictsâs wall.
Silence blanketed the hall as stunned students looked on.
Today, a mortal had slain a god, defying the established order by striking down his own teacher.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
It was a humiliation as much as it was a victory.
âCough! Youâ¦â
The purple-robed god, gasping for breath, gazed at Braydon in disbelief.
He had never fathomed that Braydon would dare to kill him.
Yet, Braydonâs resolve remained unshaken.
His left hand gripped the hilt of his sword.
With a swift motion, the Northern King Sword severed the godâs head from his body, extinguishing the life of a warlock emperor before he could unleash his full might.
The death of a god reverberated as a seismic event, instilling terror in the hearts of many.
Only Braydon remained aloof, his gaze piercing as he addressed the descendants of the gods, âThe Divine Ranking inscribed on the golden stone tablet is the ranking all of you aspire to achieve. I aim to claim my place on that ranking.
âHansworthâs Braydon Neal is here to challenge everyone!â
His proclamation hung in the air, barely fading before Braydon swung his blade.
The sword light streaked across the sky, brimming with a chilling killing intent.
Braydon aimed to exploit the rules of the Divine Ranking, intending to slaughter over 700 descendants of the gods listed on it.
He was deemed a madmanâa lunatic driven by the Oracle Palaceâs transgression against his two children.
With a swoosh, the terrifying sword light, infused with the sharpness of forbidden techniques, descended upon the crowd, claiming 76 lives in its wake.
Some were cleaved in half, others beheaded, as blood painted half the Oracle Palace crimson.
In the blink of an eye, a harrowing massacre unfolded.