Chapter 1305: Chapter 1305: Swindled Another One

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

After he finished speaking, in the dark of night, two pairs of bright eyes brimmed with anger.

It was Sapphire Neal and Jayven Neal.

“Grandpa, what’s not supposed to be talked about?”

Jayven came straight out.

He’d overheard Sorrell Neal and their grandfather arguing just moments ago.

Sorrell had already stormed off!

Lowell Neal seethed.

He’d had enough of the eavesdropping.

In the end, his own son and daughter were the ones eavesdropping.

He’d already said his piece today.

Lowell’s expression turned sour.

“Go back to your room. Not a word about tonight’s events.”

“If you don’t tell us, sis and I will leave tonight. And if you confine me, I’ll inform Braydon that the Neal family has betrayed the country!”

Jayven had never dared to confront his father like this before.

But now, he spoke with a calm resolve that couldn’t be ignored.

This kid meant business!

Instead, Graham Neal chuckled heartily.

“Even Jayven is all grown up. Well done, daring to stand up to your father. You’re much braver than before.”

“Grandpa, tell us the truth,” Jayven said once more.

Yet, it had to be said tonight.

If nothing was said, Braydon Neal and Sorrell would undoubtedly return home upon hearing of Jayven’s departure.

Graham sat in the pavilion and spoke softly, “The might of the ruins nearly broke our spirit. We’re inferior to them, so we had no choice. Of course, death isn’t what scares us. How many of the Neal family members have fallen in battle since your great-grandfather’s time?”

“Dying isn’t the hard part. Your father and I aren’t afraid of death. The Neal men have never lacked courage. What we fear is if we perish in battle, will the next generation be able to carry on?”

As the old man posed the question, Jayven fell silent.

“I might not be able to, but Braydon and Sorrell can,” he admitted, bowing his head.

“I’m not just talking about the Neal family here, but the future of all of Hansworth. Can one individual hold the line for a while, or for a lifetime?” Lowell pondered aloud.

The old man continued, his voice laden with reminiscence. “The Seventh Sovereign Lord shouldered the burden of an entire era alone. Her ultimate fate was tragic.”

The downfall of the Seventh Sovereign Lord was a tragedy.

A divine who could have lived for a millennium met her end in just a hundred years.

Lowell pressed on. “The truth your grandfather and I concealed was that Xetsa Yeza from the 16th ruin made contact with us for the first time. When Old Devil Yanagi sent word, it was only one command: endure!”

The concept of endurance cut like a knife.

It was easy to utter, but could Sorrell and Braydon truly withstand it?

They were young and courageous, unafraid of death.

The battlefield was their natural habitat.

But had they ever considered…

If all of Hansworth’s top talents were to perish in the 16th ruin, they would still have a chance to prevail.

But where would Hansworth’s future lie?

Where would hope reside?

Dying alone was simple.

But had they ever considered the plight of future generations?

If it were for a short time gain, courage was important.

But endurance was the essence of life!n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

If they were to strategize for a millennium, it would require the concerted effort of multiple generations.

However, the reality of getting several generations to collaborate was far more challenging.

“Uncle Yanagi wants us to endure?” Jayven questioned incredulously.

“The alliance of the 72 South Pole giants is already within his grasp,” Lowell disclosed quietly. “Though there’s enmity between them, conflicts among martial artists are commonplace. Yet, certain matters transcend personal vendettas. Internal discord remains internal, and they don’t meddle in each other’s affairs.”

Lowell hinted at the intricate web of alliances and compromises between the South Pole’s prominent figures, orchestrated by Finley Yanagi.

Despite personal grievances, they were willing to endure and accede to the aborigines’ terms to gain access to rare cultivation resources—a bold and unorthodox move.

Truth and falsehood could be interchangeable depending on the context or perspective.

What may appear true in one situation could be false in another, and vice versa.

They were concerned about the precariousness of truth in their current situation.

They dreaded the possibility of a prominent figure fully aligning with the aborigines.

“Devil King Yanagi proposed a compromise,” Graham revealed. “We’d extract a significant amount of resources from the aborigines annually for our cultivation, striving to bolster our strength. When the millennium-old decree arrives, that’ll be the day of reckoning.”

“Uncle Yanagi doesn’t conform to societal norms,” Lowell added. “He’s proclaimed that he fears neither death nor mere reputations.”

“We’re not afraid of being shattered to pieces. We’ll leave behind a legacy of loyalty to be remembered by history,” Lowell declared, encapsulating the mindset of himself and his comrades.

He cared little for his personal fate; whether they were faithful to Hansworth or not would become evident after the imperial decree’s expiration.

This was the essence of Devil King Yanagi – pragmatic, indifferent to moral conventions, and driven solely by the necessity to thwart the aboriginal martial artists.

The chaos within the ruins had left people despondent; formalities and doctrines mattered little in the face of such peril.

Many in the world were quick to espouse principles and religious doctrines, yet they faltered when confronted with the aborigines’ blade.

Such things had no hold on the aborigines.

In simpler terms, Devil King Yanagi cared little for such matters.

All they had to do was to reap as much benefit as they could from the ruins and strengthen themselves.

When the imperial decree expired, the powerful factions would bar the bronze doors.

At that juncture, the world would then know if these giants were actually good or bad.

Devil King Yanagi might not adhere to conventions, but he was undeniably pragmatic.

Yet, persuading the South Pole Island’s major powers to relinquish their enmity was akin to an impossible task.

Jayven stood in the pavilion, stunned by what he heard.

He was utterly flabbergasted!

This young lad probably hadn’t anticipated that the elders in his family would resort to such deceit against the aborigines.

It was a classic case of prioritizing wealth above all else.

They accepted the benefits, indulged in the spirit herbs, and ultimately, refused to open the door—a tactic designed to inflict a double blow on the aborigines.

Sometimes, when Finley acted, his actions were not only cunning but also malicious!

Luther Carden got his craftiness from Finley.

The streak of viciousness in the Northern Army seemed to be inherited.

Graham reached out and tousled his grandson’s hair affectionately.

“The war will commence in ten months,” he said tenderly. “If things take a turn for the worst, then this move by Devil King Yanagi will be our last hope for survival. We’ll safeguard the last vestige of our bloodline.”

“Even if I perish in battle, I won’t grovel before the aborigines!” Jayven declared fervently, his excitement palpable.

He’d sooner meet his end in combat.

Graham smiled and instructed his grandchildren to return to their beds.

Not a word about tonight’s events was to be uttered.

Life on the South Pole Island carried on as usual, seemingly oblivious to the impending millennium.

Meanwhile, in the bustling capital city, brightly lit streets buzzed with activity as the night unfolded.

Countless young souls embarked on their nocturnal adventures, succumbing to the allure of the city’s opulent lifestyle.

At the southern gate of the capital, two young men made their quiet return.

Braydon chose not to publicize his arrival from the South Pole Island, and his entrance into the capital was equally discreet—as if his presence went entirely unnoticed by all.