The Strongest War God

Chapter 2000: Joining the Team Chapter 2000: Joining the Team Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation “With my strength, I can kill level two transcendents and even fight level three transcendents, but I can’t stop him,” Braydon Neal said honestly.

“Attack me,” the old woman replied.

Since Braydon hadn’t revealed his cultivation, she could only test his strength.  He didn’t hesitate and pointed down, releasing a sharp burst of sword Qi.

Bang!

The old woman’s expression shifted slightly.  She raised her hand to deflect it but staggered back.

“This isn’t the power of transcendence?” she remarked, surprised.

“Your offensive power is at the upper three levels of the transcendent realm.

If you unleash your full power, your strength will double.” “How is it?” Braydon chuckled.

The old woman glanced at the white-haired young man and gave a slight nod, indicating her approval.

The white-haired young man said, “You don’t seem very old—you must be quite a genius.

What would you charge to be my bodyguard?

Name your price!” Braydon didn’t respond, waiting for the young man to make his offer.  If the price suited him, he’d accept; if not, he’d decline.  He’d come to the outside world to train and improve his strength.  All of Hamish Moore’s storage rings and Gadin Jennings’ resources had been left with the Northern Army.

Braydon had nothing.  Moreover, transcendent resources were temporarily useless to him.  He was still in the immortal celestial realm and couldn’t absorb them yet.  He needed fierce battles to refine himself, to test his path, and to break through to the transcendent realm as soon as possible.  This was the true path.

The white-haired young man thought for a moment before he spoke, “A level three transcendent expert as a guard usually goes for 300,000 gray stones per engagement.

But as I said, I pay triple the market price.

I’ll give you 900,000 gray stones.” “Not enough,” Braydon replied calmly.

The young man smiled coolly, while the old woman beside him remained unfazed.  This was the standard rate for an ordinary level three transcendent.  Braydon’s power, however, had already proven exceptional—he was at the upper three levels of the transcendent realm.

“Two million gray stones,” the young man offered directly.

“I’ll give you 50% as a deposit, with the rest after the mission.” “Deal.” The transaction was settled.  The white-haired young man tossed over a bag of holding with two million fist-sized gray stones, each radiating a transcendent aura.

“My name is Icarus Jacome,” he introduced himself.

“Braydon Neal.” They exchanged names.

Icarus brought out a bottle of wine with a potent aura of transcendence, clearly valuable.

He poured some into Braydon’s cup.

“Please, have some.” “I don’t drink,” Braydon replied, knowing the wine’s transcendence energy would harm him if he couldn’t refine it.

Icarus didn’t press the matter.  From Braydon’s earlier display, he could tell he wasn’t using transcendence power but rather some ancient path.

Everyone had their secrets.

“So, why’d you take the job?” he asked casually.

“I’m short on funds.” In the cosmos, a transcendent with connections wouldn’t easily take up mercenary work.  Those who did were typically wandering transcendents with little to their name, risking their lives for scarce resources.

“You don’t strike me as someone in need,” Icarus observed with a faint smile.

“Let’s get to the mission,” Braydon interjected.

“You’ve already failed once, losing hundreds of transcendent experts.

Your attacker was at least a level four transcendent, and likely there was more than one.” Icarus confirmed with a nod.

“Yes, the enemy is indeed a level four transcendent.” “Then why not hire a level four expert?” Clearly, Icarus wasn’t short on funds.  A level four transcendent would make things easier.  However, Icarus only smiled, offering no explanation—he had his reasons.  A level four transcendent could be difficult to control.  If they sensed something amiss, they might turn against him.

“Do you possess some kind of treasure?” Braydon asked, tapping his wine cup.

“Hmm?” Icarus’s eyes narrowed, while the old woman’s expression grew icy, as if she considered silencing Braydon.

“Can’t think of any other reason?” Icarus shook his head.

“If someone wants to kill you and is blocking the posthouse entrance, it’s either due to a deep grudge or because you have something valuable,” Braydon mused.

“If it were a grudge, they’d be constantly attacking you here, keeping you restless all night.

But you’re dining and sleeping peacefully, so the reason is likely the latter.

They’re after something you have.

They’re holding back so you don’t get desperate and sell it at the posthouse.” The person blocking them likely wanted the treasure but also wanted to avoid alerting others.

“So you took the job for the treasure?” Icarus asked.

“Yes and no,” Braydon replied, stretching and heading to the guest room Icarus had arranged.

As he left, the old woman turned to Icarus.

“Young Master, this boy is a bit unpredictable.

It may not be wise to have him as a guard.” “Risk and reward come hand in hand,” Icarus said, unshaken.  He believed Braydon was essential to his return to the Dlael Spiritual Sect.

Once in his room, Braydon reflected, “He has a powerful backer but doesn’t want his sect to intervene, instead seeking outside help here.

That means whoever wants him dead is high up in the Dlael Spiritual Sect.” Braydon then vanished into his small world to cultivate, his body surrounded by an immortal aura.  His body absorbed the immortal path’s essence.  Around him, thousands of banished immortals sat cross-legged, each cultivating their path independently, having already transcended Braydon’s level.  He wanted them to transcend fully, without merging into him, even if they reached the transcendent realm.

If he reached level nine or even the legendary level ten, Braydon’s fusion with 10,000 banished immortals would push his limits, allowing him to transcend beyond Gadin Jennings and enter the realm of the unknown.

For six months, Braydon remained in seclusion, needing time to consolidate his progress.

“Sir, the Young Master requests your presence.” An old man knocked on his door.

Swoosh!

Braydon appeared instantly.  Icarus’s team had grown, attracting mercenaries willing to risk their lives for pay.  Including Braydon, the team numbered 100.  Theoretically, recruiting a level four transcendent shouldn’t be difficult for someone of Icarus’s wealth.

It made sense.