The Strongest War God-Chapter 1563 - : Super Treasure

Chapter 1563: Super Treasure

Upon arriving above the island, Wortham Kerns expressed, “Master, this was where you lived in your later years.”

He guided Braydon Neal onto the island, which remained hidden within the expansive surroundings, its presence concealed by a powerful formation.

As they landed, the island unfolded like a vast plain, carpeted with lush green grass and dotted with numerous rare beasts.

A five-clawed golden dragon lay coiled, resting peacefully; a pure-blooded white Qilin moved leisurely; and a plump purple squirrel darted about energetically, its antics amusing but respected by all other exotic creatures nearby.

These saint beasts, seldom seen in the outside world, flourished here in abundance.

Their attention was immediately drawn to Wortham and Braydon’s arrival.

“Big Brother Wortham, is that you?” The five-clawed golden dragon transformed into a man and exclaimed with surprise. “You’re back!”

The pure-blooded Qilin also took on human form and approached eagerly, echoing the sentiment.

It had been so long since their master’s passing, and no one had ventured to this secluded island since.

Seeing the pets he had raised thriving and still by his side after all these years filled Wortham with memories of the past.

In an instant, all the beasts turned their gaze towards Braydon.

Each saint beast displayed emotions akin to humans—longing and trust.

They had been taken in by the island’s owner from a young age and nurtured here ever since.

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Given how formidable the island’s previous owner had been, if he ever wanted to raise some pets to stave off boredom, experts from various races across the cosmos would eagerly send their young to his doorstep.

There were instances where demon beasts and humans peacefully coexisted, growing up together like brothers.

In other cases, young demon beast cubs would follow super experts, ensuring promising futures through their allegiance to the strong.

Braydon surveyed the diverse array of peculiar beasts on the island, numbering no less than a hundred.

He inwardly marveled at their restraint; if they were to escape, chaos would undoubtedly ensue in the world.

As he strolled around the island, the saint beasts trailed behind him, their demeanor a mix of curiosity and respect toward their new master.

Near a stone tablet stood the Sea Calming Stele, adorned with just three words that carried profound Daoist implications.

“Master, this is the Sea Calming Stele you erected in the past. It has the power to pacify storms in this sea region,” explained the Qilin beside him.

“Is that so?” Braydon responded, raising his hand to gently touch the stone tablet.

Boom!

A potent Daoist essence surged forth from the inscription, enveloping Braydon and momentarily blurring his consciousness.

In an instant, he felt as if he were transported into a white world, witnessing a figure on the island erecting the stone stele and inscribing the words “Sea Calming Stele.”

Though he could only discern the figure’s back, the experience was vivid, and his consciousness swiftly returned to his body.

Wide-eyed, the Qilin and the other saint beasts watched as ripples emanated from the Sea Calming Stele.

It was undeniable evidence of Braydon’s identity.

“Master, perhaps you remembered something?” Wortham asked cautiously.

“I saw the back of the person who erected the monument,” Braydon replied truthfully.

In the distance, a small furry white rabbit, about the size of a palm and covered in soft fur, hopped over.

It was incredibly cute. Sensing something unusual, Braydon activated his dual-pupils to get a closer look.

“Pills?” Braydon was astonished.

The rabbit seemed infused with spiritual energy, almost alive.

Such a profound medicinal effect that could transform into a living being was rare indeed; everything could be awakened, even pills.

“Master was the top alchemist in the cosmos back then,” the Qilin affirmed solemnly.

“That’s right. Master once refined pills that could awaken their spirits. Many of them reside on the island,” added the Qilin.

Braydon observed snow-white rabbits, purple elk, eight-winged dragonflies, and others in the distance, all moving about the grass.

There were easily over ten thousand of them, each originally a pill.

“I believe this is an immortal pill,” Braydon murmured softly.

“This was something Master created for amusement in his leisure,” the Qilin continued, illustrating the island owner’s formidable skills.

Braydon’s gaze shifted northward to a row of wooden houses that could accommodate seven or eight people.

“This is where Master used to reside,” Wortham explained.

Braydon entered the middle wooden house, which was simple and rudimentary, resembling a living room with only a pale white futon; no chairs were present.

On the wall opposite the futon hung a figure.

It wasn’t carved or painted!

It was here that the great figure of yesteryears had maintained a cross-legged position year-round.

His shadow cast upon the wall had gradually formed into an image over time, exuding an overwhelming aura that deterred anyone from entering the wooden house.

As Braydon settled cross-legged on the futon, he initially sensed nothing amiss.

But suddenly, a peculiar sensation overcame him. There was something extraordinary about this prayer mat!

Boom!

Behind him, thousands of figures materialized.

Each represented a new facet of Braydon’s journey.

The first figure, adorned with silver hair and eyes shut, swiftly transformed into a Dharma Idol in the next moment.

His hands moved in a fluid, evolving manner, embodying the automatic progression of the great path.

Such an effect from a prayer mat was undoubtedly a rarity in the universe—a precious treasure indeed!

Continuing to sit cross-legged, Braydon enacted his path.

The techniques of the initial figure shifted and morphed into intricate mudras. Opening his eyes, the figure uttered:

“Soldiers, warriors, and all who engage in battle, advance in formation!”

He formed a hand seal and unleashed a word seal!

The first human figure transformed into a cosmic entity and unleashed nine consecutive strikes, each hitting the universe’s expanse.

The ninth strike directly obliterated a star!

The star resembled the moon, catching Braydon’s attention and startling him.

This was problematic!

The moon held various cultural significance in Hansworth, especially during festivities like the Harvest Festivals.

Before Braydon could dwell further, the mudra technique achieved its culmination.

The second colossal Dharma Idol manifested in the heavens, sitting cross-legged.

Around him, the resonant chants of ten thousand Buddhas filled the air, purging souls of distractions as if beckoning one into the boundless void.

Meanwhile, as Braydon immersed himself in cultivation, darkness shrouded the skies outside, perplexing the inhabitants of the hundred countries.

At the distant Neal family manor, a young man clad in white exuded an ethereal aura. Gazing at the pitch-black sky, he furrowed his brow.

“Trevon, what are you looking at?” a playful young girl asked from behind with a mischievous grin.

“The moon has vanished,” the young man murmured.

His sister was taken aback, joining him in staring at the sky, equally puzzled. She turned around and called out, “Mom, our moon is gone!”

“Your father broke the moon!” Heather Sage sighed with resignation in her voice.