Chapter 1385: Chapter 1385: Moon Corona Level

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

His adversaries spanned the breadth of the Spirit Sea.

Kohen Neal locked eyes with Raegan Stone, a glint of murderous intent flickering within.

The two families had deep animosity toward each other.

“The Stone family has 100 years,” he declared coolly. “If you don’t declare war on the Neal family within the given time, Braydon will rise and decimate your entire lineage!”

His words rang with authority and menace, causing Raegan’s expression to turn icy in response.

The animosity between their families ran deep, and both understood the gravity of the situation.

With Braydon Neal’s sudden emergence and display of prodigious talent, the Stone family saw him as a threat to be eliminated before he grew too powerful.

Kohen wasted no time in displaying open hostility.

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“The Stone family boasts prodigies as well,” Raegan retorted, his voice low and assertive.

Indeed, the Stone family possessed talents of its own, but Thirteen’s dominance had stifled their potential, leaving them crippled in his wake.

Meanwhile, amidst the tension, a voice exclaimed, “The seventh stage has been conquered! The eighth star is aglow!”

“Could the Ivory Tower have succumbed to decay after years of neglect?” someone pondered aloud, but the notion found little agreement.

Those who embarked on its trials didn’t perceive any signs of deterioration.

The skepticism seemed fueled by envy rather than genuine concern.

If another participant had achieved remarkable success, some would attribute it to the tower’s supposed faults rather than their own shortcomings.

It seemed easier to blame external factors than accept their own limitations.

As the doubts grew among the crowd, Soul Slave No. 3 stepped forward with a solemn expression.

“There is nothing amiss with the Ivory Tower,” he asserted. “The results of the Neal family’s genius trial are genuine.”

His words carried weight, bolstering credibility among the gathered throng.

“Congratulations!” Soul Slave No. 3 approached Kohen swiftly, shedding his earlier aloofness and offering a respectful bow. “The Neal family has birthed a prodigy. Well done!”

“Thank you, senior,” Kohen responded humbly, reciprocating the gesture.

After all, the soul slave was from the same generation as his ancestor, despite being trapped within the confines of the Hall of Souls.

Soul Slave No. 3, recognizing Braydon’s potential, lamented, “If only such a genius had emerged nine thousand years earlier, I might have regained my freedom.”

Soul slaves were bound by the Hall of Souls, their release contingent upon discovering exceptional talents and presenting them to their overlords.

Yet, for Soul Slave No. 3 and his peers among the top three, liberation was a distant dream.

Without the hall’s unique techniques, they would have perished long ago.

Having outlived his natural lifespan, Soul Slave No. 3 relied on the hall’s arts to sustain himself.

After countless years, even a mere pig could ascend to peerless mastery, a thought that hung heavy in the air as the listeners absorbed the old man’s lament.

Meanwhile, the black-robed soul slave, seemingly peering into the tower’s depths, remarked, “Given his strength, passing the ninth stage won’t pose much challenge for him.”

“The ninth stage?” Kohen’s astonishment mingled with elation.

Throughout history, no one had ever breached the ninth stage.

Should Braydon accomplish this feat, he would indisputably become the foremost prodigy of the Spirit Sea.

Meanwhile, on the second floor of the Ivory Tower, Braydon, clad in white, strolled leisurely through the desert landscape, hands clasped behind his back.

As he observed the approach of the black-robed figure from afar, he greeted him with resolve. “I’ve been expecting you.”

The enigmatic figure, taken aback by Braydon’s presence at the eighth stage, remarked with a hint of surprise, “The eighth stage! No one has reached this far since the tower’s inception.”

At this stage, candidates were required to amplify their combat prowess by 8,000 times—a daunting task indeed.

Both Braydon and the black-robed man were at the third level of the emperor realm, their equal footing marking them as formidable contenders.

Each candidate faced a tailored assessment that was on par with their level.

The ancient martial arts banished immortal emerged, and Braydon announced, “I’ll wait for you in the next stage.”

Braydon bade farewell as he proceeded onward.

Observing his departure, the black-robed man couldn’t help but frown at his apparent arrogance.

“Do you truly believe you can defeat me with a mere split origin body? If you possess such capability, you must harbor the potential of a Moon Corona.”

“Moon Corona?” Braydon’s curiosity was piqued.

The black-robed man chose not to elaborate, recognizing that certain truths would be revealed upon reaching that level.

And so, the battle commenced, with Braydon observing from the sidelines as the ancient martial arts banished immortal summoned 3,000 imperial paths to his aid, the overwhelming majority of which was at the third level.

It could enhance one’s combat power by 6,000 times, yet the black-robed man boasted an amplification of 8,000 times.

Furthermore, his mastery over this power was near flawless, evident in every devastating blow he delivered.

Each punch seemed to exert an overwhelming pressure, suppressing even the heavens and earth themselves.

It was as if the very fabric of the sky trembled under the weight of his strikes.

Despite the ancient martial arts banished immortal’s valiant efforts, pushing his 3,000 imperial paths to their limits, his combat strength remained capped at a mere 6,000-fold increase.

He found himself at a distinct disadvantage in the face of the black-robed examiner’s superior prowess.

“Aren’t you going to intervene?” the black-robed examiner inquired calmly.

Braydon would be eliminated if he were to lose in this stage.

Unfazed, Braydon remained composed, observing the fray from the sidelines as the ancient martial arts banished immortal clashed in a brutal spectacle, pushing the boundaries of its abilities to their very limits.

As the battle waged on, exchanging thousands of blows, night descended outside the tower, marking half a day since Braydon had been ensnared within the eighth stage.

Observers in the outside world grew increasingly skeptical of his prospects.

“Kohen,” Raegan remarked with a smirk, “it seems your family’s prodigy may meet his match at the eighth stage. Holding on in the Ivory Tower serves no purpose.”

“Clearing the eighth stage alone is an achievement,” Kohen responded, his satisfaction evident.

For the past ten thousand years, the Neal family’s prodigies had set the highest records within the Ivory Tower, cementing their legacy as legends in the Spirit Sea.

Soul Slave No. 3 spoke calmly, breaking the silence, “To reach the eighth stage with just a split origin body is impressive. He is holding his own against the examiner. It appears I have underestimated the potential of this prodigy from your Neal family.”

Kohen felt a wave of relief wash over him at these words, a simple statement of recognition that carried profound significance.

“A split origin body?” Kohen’s astonishment was palpable.

“Yes,” Soul Slave No. 3 affirmed with a nod.

He had kept a vigilant eye on Braydon’s progress within the Ivory Tower.

Kohen’s excitement surged as he absorbed this revelation.

A mere branch source had advanced to the eighth stage and matched the examiner’s prowess.

The implications were staggering—Braydon’s true body would undoubtedly wield even greater power.

If this held true, Braydon possessed the potential to break through to the ninth stage—a realm of battle strength amplification reaching 9,000 times.

Upon hearing this, Raegan’s shock gave way to fury, his heart brimming with uncontrollable killing intent.

“In the Spirit Sea, there are certain rules,” Soul Slave No. 3 declared, his gaze cold as steel. “The Hall of Souls hasn’t mentioned them because they haven’t birthed a genius of this caliber yet.”

“Listen closely, everyone,” he continued, his voice commanding attention. “Once this youth achieves the glory of the Moon Corona, peers may challenge him. Those capable can vie for the Moon Corona’s honor. However, any attempt on the life of a Moon Corona-level genius by someone a century older will result in the perpetrator’s death and the extermination of their entire family.

“Therefore, heed this rule well. It would be wise for the Stone family to adhere to it. Despite the presence of many Stone family members in the Hall of Souls, we three must still abide by its dictates.”

…

The trio comprised the Hall of Souls’ most formidable soul slaves, with the elderly figure among them.

Compared to these esteemed individuals, the Stone family members within the Hall of Souls seemed like mere juniors.

These three elders had ascended to become the Hall of Souls’ emissaries in the Spirit Sea, their authority unassailable.

Despite their immense power, Raegan dared not transgress the Hall’s regulations, for he understood the dire consequences of challenging such influential figures.

Raegan’s complexion turned pallid; he dared not engage in any dispute with these formidable beings.

The prospect of offending them was simply unthinkable.