The Strongest War God

Chapter 1306: He Has Not Changed At All

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

In the No. 2 Courtyard of the capital city, a pair of twin siblings frolicked in the tranquil surroundings.

A young boy sat serenely in the pavilion.

Despite his tender age, he exuded a quiet demeanor as he pored over a book held delicately in his small hands.

At a mere two years old, he was already engrossed in reading, while his peers were still mastering speech—a testament to his remarkable intellect.

Meanwhile, his sister, bubbling with energy, dashed across the grassy courtyard, cradling a pristine white kitten, her laughter ringing out joyfully.

“Trevon, come play with me!” she chirped, her voice full of innocence.

“Judith, don’t disturb your brother’s studies,” intervened a gentle female voice, as Heather Sage emerged from the house.

“But I want to play with him,” protested the little girl, her sincerity apparent.

“You’re always playing around like a little whirlwind,” Heather remarked affectionately, as she plucked stray weeds from her daughter’s hair.

Turning her gaze toward the boy in the pavilion, she sighed, “You’ve always been so well-behaved, just like your father, Little Braydon Neal.”

Indeed, Braydon Neal was known for his quiet demeanor, a trait evidently passed down to his son from such a tender age.

It was a testament to the influence of heredity—a fact that couldn’t be overlooked.

Setting aside his book, the young boy glanced toward the courtyard entrance, his gaze betraying an uncanny depth of understanding despite his tender age.

Born with the pinnacle realm as his innate talent, his innate powers were already discernible—a phenomenon not lost on Heather.

Suddenly, a familiar presence enveloped the courtyard, prompting Heather to turn her head abruptly.

There, standing at the entrance in white robes, was a youth—a sight unchanged since their first encounter years ago.

Time seemed to have treated him kindly, leaving no trace of its passage.

Braydon had returned, just as he was when they first met!

He hadn’t given anyone prior notice.

Heather gripped her daughter’s hand, rooted to the spot.

Her eyes welled with tears instantly.

For some reason, her throat tightened, stifling the words she longed to express to the newcomer.

“I’m back,” Braydon uttered softly, his voice carrying a familiar tone.

Heather hummed gently in response, her gaze fixed on Braydon as he drew nearer.

He appeared unchanged from their first encounter—tidy attire and a comforting presence exuded from him.

“I’m sorry,” Braydon murmured as he approached Heather, gently caressing her cheek.

His apology, just two words, unleashed a torrent of tears from Heather’s eyes.

Unable to restrain herself, she wept uncontrollably.

Braydon embraced her, standing silently in the darkness.

Guilt gnawed at him as he held the woman before him.

For several years, Braydon had ventured into the ruins, absent from home.

He had missed the birth of their two children.

The little girl, timidly hiding behind her mother, cast an uncertain glance at Braydon, her innocent eyes betraying her fear.

“Mommy, is he Daddy?” she whispered, her young voice tinged with apprehension.

Heather scooped up the girl, reassuring her gently.

“Yes, Judith, this is Daddy. Didn’t you say you miss Daddy every day? He’s your Daddy. Say hello!”

But the little girl remained timid and hesitant.

Braydon felt a pang in his heart, pierced by his daughter’s wary gaze.

Their first meeting, yet she seemed wary, even fearful.

He addressed her tenderly, “If she’s not ready to call me Daddy, don’t push her. Have you decided on their names?”

“Our daughter is Judith, and our son is Trevon,” Heather replied, her gaze fondly fixed on the little boy—Braydon’s eldest son, Trevon Neal.

The true young master of the Northern Army.

The heir to the Northern Army.

“Trevon was born with the pinnacle realm as his innate talent?” Braydon crouched down, gently lifting his son.

“He inherited your bloodline and opened his spiritual aperture. He can control many techniques and was born with the ability to wield immense power. I’ve had my fair share of troubles, but Trevon’s disposition resembles yours, unlike this girl who seems to find mischief at every turn.”

As Heather mentioned Judith Neal, a troubled expression crossed her face.

The little girl had a vivacious personality and was always on the move, whereas her brother Trevon preferred tranquility.

The two siblings couldn’t be more different in character.

“You were born with ultimate power?” Braydon’s surprise was evident.

Before he could finish speaking, Trevon wriggled free from his father’s embrace and hovered silently in the air.

Suddenly, Trevon’s forehead lit up, followed by a radiant glow emanating from his spiritual aperture.

A layer of white light enveloped his small frame, followed by the emergence of flames—white flames, nearly translucent but pulsating with incredible power.

These were flames of extreme potency, capable of putting to shame over 90% of the world’s emperors.

Extreme path emperors alone could harness such power, enabling them to rival and combat divine-level figures.

Yet, Trevon, born with the pinnacle realm innate within him, wielded such extraordinary power.

“It crossed my mind to let Trevon lead a normal life,” Braydon glanced at Heather, acknowledging her thoughts, yet realizing the impracticality of it.

While he wished to shield his son from the burdens of leadership, the people of the Northern Army would undoubtedly regard Trevon as their young master as long as he drew breath.

Heather sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Over the past few days, Grand Secretary Lowe has decided to send them both to study at the Sanguine Youth Institution.”

“The child is still too young. I’ll have a word with Dominic Lowe,” Braydon responded, echoing Heather’s reluctance to enroll their children at the Sanguine Youth Institution.

If Dominic objected, Braydon would intervene to resolve the matter.

The family of four gathered in the pavilion.

“How’s the situation at the 16th ruin?” Heather asked softly, embracing her daughter.

“It’s not looking good. But it was I who secretly ordered Luther to mobilize his elite forces into the 16th ruin,” Braydon recalled.

Heather understood that Luther wouldn’t have acted without Braydon’s directive.

Only Braydon commanded such respect among the tribes, and his orders carried weight.

Braydon elaborated, “Mobilizing troops into the 16th ruin is aimed at training our forces and utilizing the resources to enhance overall strength. Our priority is to establish a safe zone. With less than ten months until the 1,000-year deadline of the imperial decree, time is of the essence!”

“Can we defend the bronze door?”

Heather’s expression betrayed her concern.

“We wouldn’t last a day,” Braydon replied calmly.

Divine-level characters roamed within the ruins.

Considering the scarcity of divine-level figures worldwide, it was implausible to expect sufficient defense for all 3,000 doors, even if each were guarded by a divine-level figure.

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