The Strongest War God - Chapter 1321

Chapter 1321: Ten Months

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Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Typically, only global events like the global summit could draw such a diverse crowd.

Yet now, they were all converging at the Bright Hall.

Within the confines of the hall, representatives from a hundred nations and the men of the Northern Army stood assembled.

The hall accommodated nearly two hundred individuals in total.

Hand in hand with Heather Sage, Braydon Neal quietly entered the chamber.

Though slender of frame, Braydon exuded an aura akin to the heavens themselves.

His gaze possessed a primal intensity, radiating a formidable presence.

“Your Highness, the Northern King!”

The entire assembly bowed in reverence.

They all understood the sheer might wielded by the Northern King.

“Please, be seated,” Braydon spoke softly. “I’ve convened you all today because there are matters that require clarification.”

The room fell silent, each person hanging on his every word.

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“Three thousand ruins,” Braydon declared resolutely. “And a thousand-year imperial decree. How much do you know about them?”

“I am aware of it!” Korbyn Jessen’s hand shot up proudly.

Given his father’s influence, it was hardly surprising that he possessed such knowledge.

However, news of the 3,000 ruins and the thousand-year imperial decree was confined to the ten great empires; the smaller nations were left in the dark.

Thus, more than half of those present were oblivious to these developments.

Undeterred, Braydon pressed on. “As it stands, the Seventh Sovereign Lord of Heavenly Mountain issued an imperial decree to deter the 3,000 ruins. Yet, in ten months, this decree will expire. At that juncture, the 3,000 ruins will marshal their forces to besiege the bronze door. How do you propose we address this?”

“What?”

“3,000 ruins?”

“Goodness! All the ruins converging on the bronze door! How can we possibly thwart such an assault?”

…

This revelation came as a shock to the representatives from the various aristocratic families.

Many among them were unaware of the number of ruins in existence.

When news broke that the ruins were poised to attack the bronze door, a wave of pallor washed over their faces.

“A decree has been issued by the king,” Divine General Haven Downing stated calmly. “Within the next six months, all members of the 21st ruin under the jurisdiction of the Alpha Empire will be evacuated. Resources will be stripped, and the bronze door will be sealed.”

“The same goes for the Delta Empire. Bronze door No. 22 will be closed,” Jaziel Sherman announced, relaying the decisions of the various empires.

The sentiment in the room was unanimous: no one was in favor of resistance.

Closing the bronze door seemed the safest option, ensuring absolute security for the realm, just as it had been before.

If push came to shove, they would shut the door, severing all connections.

“It’s been eons,” Braydon remarked softly. “Even if the aborigines within the ruins are as dimwitted as pigs, they must have found a way to breach the bronze door by now!”

His casual remark sent shockwaves through the assembly.

“Are you suggesting the aborigines possess the means to breach the bronze door?” Haven’s expression darkened considerably.

Having spent years stationed in the South Pole, he was well aware of the aborigines’ formidable capabilities.

If Braydon’s speculation proved true, it would indeed spell disaster.

“I fear they may have already discovered a method,” Braydon continued, his tone somber. “However, the extent to which the ruins have mastered this technique remains unknown. A millennium ago, the Seventh Sovereign Lord rallied to stave off the threat. But in this era, there is no such savior, nor can I claim to be one.”

From a young age, Braydon had harbored the belief that he was capable of anything.

But this was the one thing he couldn’t accomplish!

Single-handedly suppressing 3,000 ruins?

What did Braydon have to offer to subdue them?

Using his cultivation base at the first level of the emperor realm to suppress 3,000 ruins and obliterate 3,000 Oracle Palaces?

It was an absurd notion!

Wanting Braydon to ascend to the level of the Seventh Sovereign Lord within ten months?

It was even more implausible!

There would be no miracles this time.

The Seventh Sovereign Lord had sacrificed herself for the world’s sake, fighting for a millennium.

Yet, a millennium later, the threat of the ruins still loomed.

Addressing the solemn gathering, Braydon spoke softly, “In the remaining ten months, I will journey to each of the hundred countries. I implore you to disseminate this news.”

“Yes, sir!” The response was unanimous.

The atmosphere was heavy, the joy of the wedding now overshadowed by the weight of the impending crisis.

Braydon’s revelation had cast a pall over the assembly.

The gravity of the news extended to every corner of the globe.

If the aborigines launched an assault, no nation would emerge unscathed.

The looming threat had transformed into an imminent catastrophe.

It was a wake-up call for the international community, signaling the cessation of the power games among the hundred nations.

They all recognized what truly mattered.

As the attendees departed, the once lively Neal family manor gradually descended into silence, reverting to its usual tranquility.

“Braydon!” Louis Neal’s voice echoed in the Bright Hall.

“Father, Uncle Liam!” Braydon greeted them softly.

The two figures before him hailed from the enigmatic Fifth Divine Palace, an entity Braydon had only heard whispers about.

Louis and Liam Neal stood as elders of this mysterious group.

“Based on the intel your father and I have gathered,” Liam began, “Three hundred years ago, certain ruins had already learned how to breach the bronze door. Take a look at these photos.”

A photograph materialized, revealing a bronze door cloaked in verdigris, adorned with a plaque bearing the inscription “1145.”

“This is its serial number,” Liam explained. “The Fifth Divine Palace has sought this door for ages, but it remains elusive. It’s a sealed bronze door, yet a small patch of corrosion mars its lower right corner.”

Braydon scrutinized the image, his brow furrowed.

“Where is this door located?” he inquired.

“We’re uncertain,” Louis replied gravely. “According to our superiors, it likely vanished.”

Louis shared this grim revelation with his son on his wedding day, divulging secrets about the ruins.

Fortunately, this information hadn’t reached the ears of the hundred nations.

Braydon knew that if it had, some smaller countries would likely align themselves with the ruins overnight, forsaking their allegiance to humanity.

Not everyone possessed the resolve of the Northern King.

If the bronze door showed signs of falling, there would inevitably be those who sought refuge with the aborigines—a pattern familiar from history.

Braydon’s countenance darkened as he studied the photo.

“If this door has truly vanished,” he muttered grimly, “it suggests that the aborigines have already infiltrated every corner of the world. We’ve simply yet to uncover them.”

“In the last century, the Fifth Divine Palace has hunted down 1.72 million aborigines in this world,” Louis disclosed, citing a staggering figure.

“Some have already turned traitor and sided with the aborigines,” Liam added grimly.

“Those traitors!” Frediano Jadanza slammed his hand on the table, reducing it to splinters.

The Northern Army’s fury was palpable.

While they battled in the 16th ruin, there were individuals on the ground collaborating with the enemy—a looming threat.

“This is a powder keg,” Braydon remarked quietly, his tone somber.

“What do you plan to do, Braydon?” Louis inquired, sensing his son’s resolve.

Braydon simply smiled faintly.

He had been steadfast on this path all along.

Though his journey through the ruins had paused momentarily, it didn’t mean it had ended.

Braydon never abandoned his quest, and with only ten months remaining, time was of the essence.