The Strongest War God

Chapter 2046: Sitting Down and Talking About Paths Chapter 2046: Sitting Down and Talking About Paths Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation The Myriad Beast Mountain, also known as the Half-step Forbidden Land.

At this moment.

In an instant, a phoenix shadow danced in the air above the posthouse.  A cold female voice rang out: “The Medicine Sect is unjust.

They must give an explanation to the Myriad Beast Mountain!” “The Myriad Beast Mountain cannot be bullied, and it cannot be humiliated!” An azure dragon phantom loomed over the posthouse, its gaze unwavering.

A golden mythical lion-dragon released a level nine pressure, roaring, “You killed my Myriad Beast Mountain disciple.

You will pay with your life!” The powerful creatures spoke.

They were all beings from the Myriad Beast Mountain.

The old dragon was about to fall, and they had come to take advantage of the situation.

For beasts, the benefits of bathing in the rain of the old dragon’s death were even greater.

Shale Inskeep’s expression turned cold.

“A bunch of beasts!

How dare you act so impudently here!” “What?” The man embodying the Azure Dragon walked forward with a cold expression.

“Did the Medicine Sect take the wrong medicine?” “Myriad Beast Mountain is truly majestic!” Suddenly, a dignified voice resounded.

Scipio Langdon’s eyes were icy.

With a wave of his hand, space shifted, and all the living beings on Longevity Mountain were transported outside the relay station.

“Tenth step!” The pupils of the man transformed into the Azure Dragon constricted, his face turning pale.

No one had anticipated a Tenth-Level existence intervening.

Such a presence could kill them with a single thought, leaving them utterly powerless to retaliate.

“Get lost!” Scipio’s stance was made clear in a single word.

The creatures of Myriad Beast Mountain exchanged glances and departed swiftly, not daring to linger.

They weren’t fools; they understood the situation.

The young man was backed by a tenth-level existence.  No wonder he dared to kill their disciple.

Shale cupped his hands respectfully.

“Rest assured, Pavilion Master Langdon.

Braydon has come under the sanctuary of the Medicine Sect.

We will protect him.” “Come back before dark,” Scipio said to Braydon Neal and the others.

“You’re really strict,” Rusty Neal muttered, pursing his lips.

“This way, please.” As the host, Shale personally led them to a sprawling complex of palaces.

The occupants were all from the Medicine Sect.

Inside the main hall, individuals awaited their arrival—including the Medicine Sect’s Sect Master, Lukas Isenhour.

His hair was tied into a crown, and his posture exuded dignity.

With his back to the door, he turned upon sensing their arrival, revealing a warm smile.

“You’re here, Braydon!” “Sect Leader Isenhour!” Braydon stepped forward.

Kreig Jordahl gave a slight nod, remaining silent.

As for bowing, Lukas wasn’t qualified to receive such a gesture.

“Shale,” Lukas said warmly, “go and make preparations.

Today, the Medicine Sect welcomes a distinguished guest.

We’ll host a banquet in their honor.” “Yes, sir!” Shale turned to make arrangements.

“Sect Master Isenhour, there’s no need for such formalities.

We’re only here for a brief visit,” Braydon replied, shaking his head.

“It’s no trouble.

I’ll show you around later.” With a laugh, Lukas ordered tea to be served, engaging Braydon and the others in conversation as though they were of the same generation.

Before long, Lukas sensed something unusual.

The two young individuals before him—and even the children—spoke with a depth of experience far beyond their apparent age.  They didn’t seem like young people at all, but like ancient beings who had lived countless years.

When the topic turned to cultivation, Kreig nearly pointed at his temple and mused, “Cultivation paths are as numerous as stars.

I’ve always considered the tenth level a mysterious realm worth exploring.

Relying solely on one power to transcend and reach the extreme leads to imbalance.” “In ancient times, level ten was considered the limit.

To surpass it and enter level eleven would mark the beginning of a new path.” Everett Neal, despite looking like a child, spoke like a wise elder, reminiscent of Lennon Jury in the past.

Rolling his eyes, Rusty remarked, “The facts prove that the eleventh level is a deviant path.

Those who pursued it back then went astray.” “The wrong path is still a path,” Everett countered.

Even a flawed path could lead to the eleventh-level realm.

Since ancient times, how many had reached the eleventh level?

Fewer than one could count on two hands.

“It’s true that there are countless techniques, but what if someone mastered them all?” Braydon asked softly.

“This…” Lukas hesitated before replying, “Throughout history, only one person has cultivated in such a manner: the Great Empress.” “The Empress succeeded, which means it’s possible for others to follow,” Braydon stated resolutely.

He wasn’t merely speculating—he was walking this path.

Kreig agreed, “I’ve studied the Great Empress’s path recently.

Her body could transform into countless forms, mastering all kinds of paths simultaneously.

But this approach has drawbacks.

When the tribulation body grows stronger, the question arises: who becomes the master, and who remains the servant?” “If the tribulation body rebels, it might devour the original body and become a taboo,” he added grimly.

The risk was undeniable—and extremely high.

“Every path is fraught with obstacles,” Braydon said softly.

“True.

Cultivators, even knowing the terrors of heavenly tribulations, will press forward if there’s even a sliver of hope,” Lukas agreed.

Their discussion stretched on until Shale reminded them that the banquet was ready.

Braydon declined politely.

“There’s no need for a banquet.

If the Medicine Sect invited us here for a reason, please speak plainly.” “Straightforward as ever,” Lukas said with a solemn smile.

“Very well.

May I ask what kind of inheritance you gained from the ruins of the saint region?” “There are eight such ruins in total,” Braydon hinted.

“You mean the founders of the eight great cosmoses?” Lukas’s eyes lit up.

“Precisely.” “I did obtain something from the saint region,” Braydon admitted.

“What does the Medicine Sect seek?” “To be direct, the Medicine Sect has existed for countless years, yet we’ve never produced a tenth-level transcendent.

Many of our ancestors linger at the ninth level, unable to take the final step.” Lukas sighed.

“Rumors say you’ve acquired an eleventh-level inheritance.

Whether it’s true or not, I’m not here to pry.

I only ask: do you possess a tenth-level inheritance?” “Yes.” He answered without hesitation.

Lukas was taken aback, surprised by Braydon’s forthrightness.

Kreig glanced at Braydon, wondering if he intended to share his cultivation method.

Rusty, in a tender yet knowing tone, said, “Don’t worry.

The secrets this kid holds aren’t as simple as we think.

Do you really believe he only has our techniques?” “Hmm?” Kreig’s eyes widened as realization dawned.

Gadin Jennings had crossed paths with Braydon, and their connection seemed deeper than he had initially thought.

Moreover, Braydon possessed not just one, but multiple inheritances—two at the eleventh level, and several at the tenth.

“If you are willing to part with it, the Medicine Sect is prepared to pay any price,” Lukas said firmly.

“There are indeed things the Medicine Sect has that I need,” Braydon replied calmly.