The Strongest War God

Chapter 1425: Twelve Wings of the Heavenly Son
Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

“Child, those belong to you!” The voice, akin to a demonic echo, disrupted Braydon Neal’s consciousness as his body ascended into the sky.

Specks of white starlight infiltrated Braydon’s form, enveloping him in a hazy glow.

The Foreman family onlookers gaped in astonishment.

“What?”

“You…” Septimus Foreman, the second ancestor of the Foreman family, was dumbfounded. “This kid has the blood of the Foreman family!”

“Kohen, what’s the meaning of this?” Galliard Foreman glanced at Kohen Neal, seeking clarification.

How could the most exceptional talent in Neal family history possess Foreman family lineage?

Kohen disclosed everything without hesitation, invoking the name Wharton Neal, the prodigy of the Neal family’s past.

As soon as Wharton’s name was uttered, Galliard and the others grasped the situation.

Braydon was Wharton’s descendant.

Observing Braydon in the darkness, Eva Foreman’s brows knit slightly.

She sensed a faint yet formidable pressure emanating from him, unsettling her.

It was a sensation of suppression, indicative of a superior bloodline.

Now, Eva experienced this sensation firsthand.

Braydon, with closed eyes, drifted instinctively toward the heart of the Foreman family’s protective barrier.

Threads of white light weaved through the night, blanketing the entire Foreman family’s encampment.

Despite the relentless assaults from the experts of Demon Saint Island, the Snow Demon Sword remained firmly gripped in their hands.

The Foreman family’s protective barrier remained steadfast, impervious to any assault.

Braydon ventured into the core area of the array, where Eva had previously stood.

Boom!

A surge of white light erupted, engulfing Braydon entirely.

The brilliance was even more intense than when Braydon activated his eight techniques.

It seemed as though he had fully unleashed the power of the Thousand Feathers Technique.

Beams of white light streamed ceaselessly into his body, numbering in the thousands.

Remarkably, Braydon’s form seemed like an open vessel, effortlessly absorbing every trace of the radiant energy.

What was even more astonishing was the continuous emergence of white light from the ground, an endless source.

Within the span of just nine breaths, Braydon had absorbed a quantity of white light surpassing that of Eva.

He appeared divine, akin to a celestial being, yet devoid of wings on his back.

It seemed as though the energy was accumulating within him, silently surging.

A profound silence enveloped the area as everyone gazed skyward, witnessing Braydon’s absorption of the luminous energy.

Galliard and the others were taken aback by the unforeseen turn of events.

While the protective array had aided Eva, it had inadvertently facilitated Braydon’s empowerment.

Had it not been for the protective formation, no one would have discerned the Foreman family bloodline coursing through Braydon’s veins.

Only now, on this fateful night, did his latent lineage awaken.

As moments passed, the atmosphere remained charged with anticipation.

As the sky gradually brightened, the denizens of Demon Saint Island remained unmoved, clutching the Snow Demon Sword with steely gazes fixed on Braydon in the distance, their vertical pupils exuding cold indifference.

Meanwhile, Braydon, who had undergone a passive baptism in the white light, stirred to consciousness.

His eyes snapped open, radiating a brilliant white glow as his pristine robe disintegrated around him.

A surge of power emanated from his being, propelling him upward as a cascade of white light erupted from behind him, propelling him toward the heavens.

Twelve wings materialized in an instant, a complete transformation unfolding within a single day.

Snow-white appendages sprouted from his back, seamlessly integrated as if they were always a part of Braydon, akin to extensions of his arms.

A profound silence enveloped the surroundings as Galliard’s gaze grew vacant, while Kohen stood dumbstruck.

Remington Neal could only stammer in disbelief, struggling to articulate his astonishment.

Twelve innate wings—the first awakening of the twelve wings.

The sheer magnitude of this revelation was staggering, surpassing even the most prodigious talents of the Foreman family.

According to the Foreman family’s tradition, the most exceptional individuals were those born with twelve wings—one male and one female, each embodying unparalleled prowess.

As Braydon unveiled his twelve wings and gradually closed his eyes, ancient knowledge flooded his consciousness.

Inheritances rooted in bloodlines carried with them memories, secret techniques, and accumulated experiences passed down through generations.

Braydon was well aware of the Foreman family’s celestial origins, tracing back to one of the eight human races, each associated with one of the eight main lineages.

The Foreman lineage held the prestigious position of being the foremost among them, inherently extraordinary from birth.

Nevertheless, the denizens of the Foreman family islands found themselves in a state of disbelief.

Their very existence was called into question—was Braydon truly a member of the Neal family, or did he belong among the Foremans?

The sight of twelve wings adorning his back left no room for doubt; no one could deny his connection to the Foreman lineage.

“Heavenly Son!” A Foreman exclaimed, his voice trembling with reverence. “The emergence of twelve wings signifies your divine right as the Son of Heaven,” declared Second Ancestor Septimus, his motives transparent as he sought to assert his authority.

Without hesitation, Galliard proclaimed, “All members of the Foreman family extend a warm welcome to the Heavenly Son and offer their heartfelt congratulations!”

The Foreman family erupted in jubilation, while Kohen, his expression a mosaic of question marks, seethed with indignation.

What audacity!

The Foreman family dared to encroach upon their domain, attempting to usurp their rightful kin.

Ever since Braydon’s arrival, he had narrowly escaped death at the hands of Eva, forming two banished immortals—the death banished immortal and primordial chaos banished immortal.

And now, twelve wings adorned his form, a symbol of unparalleled power.

The Foreman family’s stance toward Braydon shifted repeatedly, hinting that he would soon be considered one of their own.

External voices drew Braydon’s attention, prompting him to slowly open his eyes.

Radiant and pure, he resembled a divine being untouched by mortal concerns, exuding an aura of holiness akin to a banished immortal.

Muttering the words ‘Thousand Feathers Technique, Foreman family,’ Braydon acknowledged the instinctual influence of his bloodline, inherited from his ancestors rather than acquired through personal comprehension.

Exhaling a sigh, he stood within the protective array, casting a glance at the shadowy figures lurking in the distance.

Addressing them with indifference, he warned, “The Demon Saint Island will pay for what is done today!”

A disdainful snort emanated from the darkness, acknowledging their present inability to harm Braydon while he remained within the Foreman family’s protective formation.

Despite dispatching formidable experts wielding the Snow Demon Sword, Demon Saint Island had failed to eliminate Braydon, an outcome they surely found unacceptable.

Retracting his white wings, Braydon cast a final glance at Eva before departing for his courtyard.

By now, dawn had broken, signaling the Foreman family’s deliberate restraint in their actions.

Braydon’s ascent to prominence had become the subject of widespread discussion throughout the family.

In a tranquil courtyard, Second Ancestor Septimus, accompanied by Karl Foreman, Galliard, and other prominent figures, had convened.

Septimus said, “Braydon…”

Braydon, addressing Septimus with respect, said, “Has Senior Fontane really fallen?”

Fontane Neal’s life hung in the balance due to Braydon.

Septimus sighed heavily before speaking, “Demon Saint Island spared no expense in their attempt to eliminate you. Fontane was drawn into the depths of space and sustained severe injuries. Even if he survived, it’s unlikely he’ll find his way back.”

It was common knowledge that venturing too far into space was perilous.

The darkness was boundless, swallowing everything in its path and rendering the lost unable to discern the living from the dead.

“I must find him,” declared Braydon with unwavering resolve.

“I cannot allow it,” countered Kohen firmly.

The Neal family could ill afford to lose Braydon, let alone risk his life in a futile attempt to locate Fontane.