Chapter 2032 The Real Viciousness

Chapter 2032: The Real Viciousness Chapter 2032: The Real Viciousness Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation None of them could survive.

Braydon Neal and the others ran ahead while their pursuers closed in.

He managed to escape in an instant.

Braydon glanced around, choosing a direction, and sped off.  He moved so fast that within a hundred breaths, he had already reached a floating continent.

This was a high-level posthouse, overseen by a level nine existence.

Unfortunately, the level nine overseer had entered the saint region, leaving only a level seven being to guard it.

A high-level posthouse like this could hold over a billion people, thriving as a world of its own.

Braydon and the others slipped in, swiftly changing their appearances.  They moved across six streets, altering their looks seven times before reaching a dilapidated courtyard.

In the courtyard, an old man and his grandson were tending flowers and plants.  They were instantly stunned by the uninvited guests.

“What brings you here, little brothers?” the old man asked.

Braydon didn’t explain further.  With a wave, he brought the old man and his grandson into his small world, instructing them to move to different quarters.

Otherwise, once others found this place, this grandfather and grandson pair would be interrogated.

No matter how tempting the level eleven inheritance was, their pursuers would go to any lengths—even using Soul Searching.

Braydon scanned the courtyard and noticed another couple, bringing them into his small world as well.

“We’ll stay here for now.” “Here?” Everett Neal frowned slightly.

“Are you looking for trouble?” Rusty Neal sneered.

“Hmm?” Braydon looked at the two brothers.

“The level-eleven inheritance is indeed enticing,” Kreig Jordahl sighed, his words carrying deeper meaning.

Braydon wasn’t naïve.  He frowned.

“This posthouse is advanced; it can hold a billion lives.

People from various factions are stationed here.

Would they really dare to act recklessly?” “Naive!” Rusty scoffed.

These people had seen too much.  For a level eleven legacy, they’d destroy not just one, but even a hundred posthouses without hesitation.

Braydon and the others were hiding here.

Meanwhile, five level six transcendents arrived.

A level seven existence appeared with a loud bang, dressed in snow-white, wielding a three-foot-long sword.

He spoke coldly, “Are you from the Heavenly Spirit Sect?” “Sir, we are under orders to pursue criminals.

Please do us this favor,” replied the leading level six being, holding the Heaven-Reflecting Mirror, his demeanor steady yet firm.

The white-robed young man, Iluka Lesh, raised his sword slightly and said, “You may not understand what this posthouse represents.” “Level nine powerhouse, Lord Hairo Morrelo!” declared the level six leader, naming the posthouse’s owner.

“Then you should know to leave!” Iluka snapped.

Killing was forbidden in the posthouse.

Anyone who entered was protected—one of the reasons posthouses were so well-regarded.

The level six leader shook his head.

“Perhaps you don’t know, but these criminals are individuals our Heavenly Spirit Sect must eliminate.

Our Sect Master himself is invested in this matter and may come here personally.” “What?” Iluka was stunned.

Who could be hiding in this posthouse, so significant that even the Heavenly Spirit Sect’s master was involved?

With recent attention focused on the saint region… “Saint region ruins!” Iluka’s eyes widened in realization.

It was clear that Braydon and his companions had gained something, drawing the Heavenly Spirit Sect’s wrath—even its master’s interest.

Perhaps a tenth level eon artifact or a legacy tied to such power?

Iluka’s breathing quickened.  If the prize was this valuable, he wouldn’t let the Heavenly Spirit Sect claim it alone.

“What’s on your mind, sir?” the level six leader said coldly.

“What those criminals hold isn’t something your master can handle.” “My elder brother may not be qualified, but what about the Saint Pavilion?” Iluka retorted.

“The Saint Pavilion?” The level six leader’s face darkened.

“My elder brother joined the Saint Pavilion a hundred years ago.

This posthouse belongs to the Saint Pavilion!” Iluka clarified, making the association clear.

Though powerful, the Heavenly Spirit Sect couldn’t compare to the Saint Pavilion—a transcendent power for countless ages, rumored to have once birthed a level ten existence.

Though that level ten disappeared, the Saint Pavilion’s strength was legendary.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, many expressions turned grim as messages were exchanged on both sides.

At the same time, deep in the saint region ruins, high-ranking beings clashed fiercely over Lennon Jury’s remains and possessions, yet none of Lennon’s inheritance or weaponry could be found.

Someone had beaten them to it.

The first ones there were none other than Braydon and Kreig—mere ants to these high-level beings.

The realization enraged the powerful.

Two groups now departed quietly: the Heavenly Spirit Sect’s elite and the Saint Pavilion’s leaders.  They met at the exit, exchanging cold glares, both restraining themselves.

They both received the same news.

In the next breaths, both forces arrived above the posthouse.

Waves of intense high-level pressure swept over, searching for their target.

But Braydon was well-concealed.

Blending into the relay station like a drop of water in the ocean, finding him was no easy feat.

And Braydon was determined to stay hidden.

How could they locate him?

Back in the small courtyard, hands clasped behind his back, Braydon looked up at the distant sky where the transcendents gathered.

“Do you think hiding here makes you completely safe?” Rusty scoffed.

“These people would destroy this place for that inheritance.” Rusty sounded certain.

If they did, the outcome would be catastrophic.

Calmly, Braydon responded, “At the time, they were only facing a single level-six expert.

Unless they use a trump card and eliminate everyone, they can escape entirely.” “I should have done it then,” Kreig murmured, looking at the sky.

“At this rate, more and more transcendents will arrive.

Such large movements will draw the attention of other factions.” “Today, they’ll make their move.

Right now, they’re just negotiating the distribution of benefits,” Rusty observed.

His words sounded strange coming from someone with the appearance of a one-year-old child.

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