Chapter 1441: The Gathering of Heaven's Favorites

Chapter 1441: The Gathering of Heaven’s Favorites

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

In the end, representatives from Elysium stepped up to mediate.

It was evident that when conflicts arose among the major powers of the Spirit Sea, even the Elysium would intervene, akin to a protective older sibling.

However, the youth from Elysium appeared rather nonchalant about hunting the frost bears.

He also happened to notice Braydon Neal.

“Braydon Neal?”

The white-robed youth greeted with a warm smile, catching Braydon off guard.

He hadn’t anticipated being recognized by this individual.

“I’m Lyndal Cadogan,” the white-robed youth introduced himself.

It clicked for Braydon.

Information about Lyndal flashed through Braydon’s mind: 710,000 frost bears slain, 10,000 peers bested in combat, and an impressive streak of 500 consecutive wins in the arena.

But what truly mattered was that Lyndal had triumphed in 500 consecutive arena matches—a feat that drew the attention of geniuses from various factions gathered in the Hall of Souls.

The arena held the utmost significance, where battles unfolded among peers of identical cultivation levels.

The more victories accumulated, the more formidable the opponents became.

Lyndal, seemingly intrigued by Braydon, remarked, “Before arriving here, I heard my master speak highly of you. He mentioned the birth of an extraordinary genius from the Neal family—none other than you, the ten-eyed dual-pupiled cultivator!”

Unmoved by the praise, Braydon remained focused on his singular goal: to slay the frost bear.

“Haha!” Lyndal chuckled, as if he could read Braydon’s thoughts. “So, you’ve vanquished the frost bears and retrieved the 10,000-year-old Frost Grass to summon the Heart of Frost? What a coincidence. Today, you’ll witness that very treasure!”

“Hmm?” Braydon’s attention suddenly shifted to Lyndal.

With a subtle movement of his left hand, Lyndal produced a yellow scroll.

Braydon’s name occupied the thirty-seventh spot on the scroll—an unexpected sight for him.

Surprised by his inclusion, Braydon listened as Lyndal clarified, “These scrolls are distributed by the Hall of Souls, ranking individuals based on their frost bear kill count. You can’t conceal your tally of over a hundred thousand from the Hall’s artifact spirit.”

Braydon grasped the situation immediately.

“For just one person to collect that many Frost Grass would take too long a time. That was why I proposed a year ago that we collectively collect the 10,000-year-old Frost Grass and settle their ownership through a battle here,” Lyndal explained.

“Not a bad idea,” Braydon conceded, recognizing the wisdom in the collective endeavor to secure the Frost Grass.

Ultimately, who would claim the Frost Grass?

Undoubtedly, it would go to the strongest contender.

Such a method favored Lyndal, given his status as one of the most formidable saint realm experts in the frost world.

Yet, the others weren’t naive—they understood the risks involved in challenging Lyndal and his peers.

Participating in the competition equated to courting death, let alone attempting to seize the Frost Grass from them.

Lyndal and his cohorts proposed a deal: exchanging a portion of the Frost Grass, which held little value for them, for items more beneficial to their cause.

Furthermore, Lyndal and his comrades frequently traversed other palace levels, each harboring valuable possessions.

Lyndal glanced at Braydon with significance. “To vie for the Frost Grass, you’ll need to present 50 of them.”

Only those in possession of 50 Frost Grass qualified for the competition.

“I’m not interested in that treasure,” Braydon frowned.

“Oh? I thought you rushed here after hearing the news,” Lyndal’s tone softened.

He understood the significance of Braydon’s presence.

As the strongest prodigy in the history of the Neal family, known as the ten-eyed dual-pupiled man, Braydon was expected to be as remarkable as Thirteen, if not surpassing him.

With Braydon, hailed as the number one prodigy of the Spirit Sea in ten thousand years, Lyndal wouldn’t underestimate him.

If Braydon decided to join the competition, Lyndal knew he’d have a formidable opponent.

Now, with Braydon expressing disinterest, Lyndal breathed a sigh of relief.

Coincidentally, at that moment, a green-robed man approached, a black spear slung across his back.

Rogue cultivator Malachi Zadroga, boasting over 500,000 frost bear kills and 300 arena victories, was a formidable contender. He had even vanquished 300 saint realm opponents in the arena, proving his prowess.

“Malachi, you made it,” Lyndal greeted with a laugh.

Malachi’s green robe billowed in the wind as he spoke indifferently, “I’ve made considerable efforts for today’s event. Who’s he? He seems unfamiliar.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize the Neal family’s ten-eyed dual-pupils?” Lyndal teased.

Malachi scrutinized Braydon for a moment before furrowing his brows.

“His cultivation seems lacking. If he is a saint, then I’ll be curious about the Neal family’s dual-pupils.”

“It’s not like you’ve never defeated the Neal family’s dual-pupils before,” Lyndal snapped.

“What?” Braydon, typically reserved, turned to him slowly and asked bluntly, “You defeated my family members?”

“Yes,” Malachi confirmed without hesitation.

“In a life-and-death battle?” Braydon pressed further.

“The great families don’t question competition among peers,” Malachi admitted to his act of killing the Neal family’s dual-pupils cultivators.

His hands were indeed stained with the Neal family’s blood.

Braydon stepped forward, emanating a palpable killing intent.

He spoke with chilling indifference, “Braydon Neal of the Neal family, I challenge you.”

“You want to challenge me?” Malachi was taken aback.

A divine like Braydon daring to challenge a peak saint like him?

Moreover, Malachi wasn’t just any peak saint; he was a prodigy with 300 consecutive wins in the arena.

Lyndal didn’t intervene; instead, he was eager to witness Braydon’s strength.

Let’s see how formidable this supposed strongest genius of the Neal family truly was!

Malachi frowned slightly and stated decisively, “Alright, I’ll exchange a few moves with you. However, I’ll stop there. As a peak saint facing a divine realm cultivator, the gap in cultivation and combat strength is substantial. Even if I win, it won’t be a glorious victory. I’ll indulge you with a few exchanges.”

Braydon remained calm.

The opponent before him had slain his kin from the Neal family; he couldn’t be allowed to live.

Today, Malachi must die.

With a subtle movement of his left hand, primordial chaos Qi emanated from Braydon, causing the surrounding space to quietly rupture into a black hole.

“Primordial chaos Qi?” Lyndal exclaimed, astonished.

“You’ve mastered the primordial chaos Qi and integrated it into your body?” Malachi expressed his astonishment.

Braydon brandished his primordial chaos sword and launched an attack.

The sword cleaved through the air, leaving a conspicuous black spatial rift in the sky, stretching for miles.

Malachi didn’t dare to underestimate the situation.

With a slight movement of his shoulder, he unsheathed a black spear, exuding a sharp determination and a unique pressure—typical of a peak saint, even stronger than that of an eminent saint cultivator.

At that moment, even Braydon felt the weight of this pressure.

However, such details were inconsequential.

Today, even a peak eminent saint would meet his end.

Though Braydon had reached the divine realm, he had never confronted a peak expert before.

Even he wasn’t certain of his own limits.

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