The Strongest War God-Chapter 1919: The Old Rules

The innate race managed to reproduce and thrive, becoming the elite of the ancient worlds, a race that all super races in the universe admired.

The Black Screen Heaven had already been destroyed in the ancient times of the immortal realm.

But now, Braydon Neal had stepped into Maknum and brought up these matters.

How could Indiana Ibbot not feel fear?

Just then, the eerie sound of chewing came from the darkness, accompanied by strange whispers.

The experts present, however, were unshaken.

They had all walked through mountains of corpses and seas of blood to face these other experts.

Fear wasn’t in their nature.

Elder Levine turned abruptly, slamming his palm into the decaying wooden house beside him. "You’re sneaky! Come out!" he shouted coldly.

Bang!

The old wooden structure disintegrated, sending dust flying everywhere, shrouding the area.

Braydon’s eyes lit up.

Behind him, the three crippled bodies remained on high alert. "This could be troublesome," he muttered.

With a wave of his hand, a gust of wind blew back the dust that had been headed his way, ensuring it wouldn’t touch him.

Clearly, there was something in the dust, even the third body was wary of it.

The giants, as usual, were unconcerned.

One transcendent expert didn’t bother to avoid the dust, letting it settle on him.

As it touched his skin, the dust seemed to vanish, almost as if it was merging with his body.

Suddenly, a faint layer of black hair appeared on the back of his hand, spreading across his entire body.

"What is this?" the transcendent expert shouted angrily.

Swoosh!

Everyone turned to look.

"Don’t let it touch you!" Livius Jahic’s expression shifted slightly. "Don’t get dirty!" he warned in a low voice.

There was no need for further warning—everyone knew the dust was the problem.

Indiana’s face turned pale, as did the immortal race’s transcendent realm expert.

At this moment, fear flickered deep in their eyes.

This was Black Screen Heaven—a force even transcendent experts couldn’t withstand.

The giant race’s transcendent expert unleashed his full cultivation, and the power of transcendence surged through him.

But he still couldn’t expel the black energy from his body.

Instead, his black hair grew another inch, making him look like a black-furred beast.

This was a transcendent!

Yet here was something even transcendence couldn’t resist. What was it?

"Ancestor Neal!" Indiana glanced over, desperate to leave Maknum.

"It’s definitely Black Screen Heaven. If we find the divine crystals before dark, he can still be saved," Braydon said calmly.

"Yes, the divine crystals! Absorbing their energy can suppress the Black Screen Heaven," Indiana nodded quickly, trying to figure out a way to handle it.

The other transcendents wore grim expressions.

They couldn’t even see the enemy in the dark—just a cloud of dust was enough to endanger everyone.

If they didn’t find what Braydon mentioned before nightfall, the giant race’s transcendent would be in mortal danger.

The Black Screen Heaven wasn’t as terrifying in the daylight.

But once night descended, everyone would understand why this force once wreaked havoc across the immortal realm, making even the innate immortals fear it.

Braydon continued forward, his ears picking up strange whispers and unsettling chewing sounds.

The noise was deeply disturbing.

Braydon stopped, staring into the shadows of the collapsed palace ahead. He spat the word out calmly: "Scram!"

There was something blocking the path, watching them from the dark ever since they had arrived.

It was clear this was meant to provoke Braydon.

"Ancestor Neal, should I attack?" Stas Ipatov stepped forward, speaking solemnly.

"You won’t catch it," Braydon replied, shaking his head and warning the nine transcendent humans not to act rashly.

He then approached the ruined palace alone.

His lips moved slightly, and he began to speak in an ancient, almost unintelligible language.

It sounded like a curse, or perhaps a scolding.

The ancient language quietly echoed through the air.

The unsettling voice in the darkness abruptly vanished.

"You’re back!" rasped a hoarse voice.

"Are those two good-for-nothings under your control?" Braydon asked suddenly.

All the transcendents behind him sharpened their focus.

Who were those two useless people?

Were they the two transcendent-level experts that Lukyan Flerov had suppressed in that past life?

They all needed answers.

"I won’t touch your things!" the creature in the dark replied bluntly.

"At least you know what’s good for you. I’ve reached the limit of my cultivation, and I’ll attempt to merge my paths in this life. You can wait for another one!" Braydon spoke to the being in the shadows as if giving an order.

The creature in the dark didn’t object, nor did it sound displeased. "Fine. The creatures that followed you here will be under your protection?"

"Same old rules!" Braydon turned and began to walk away.

But what exactly were the old rules?

Outside, the sky had already darkened—dusk was setting in.

Suddenly, the whispers returned, and the sound of monstrous chewing grew louder and louder, echoing through every abandoned house.

Everyone felt a growing unease.

Indiana couldn’t help but follow Braydon. "Ancestor Neal, the Black Screen Heaven is about to erupt. Should we find a place to hide?"

"No need." Braydon continued walking down the street, unbothered by where he was headed.

The nine transcendents of the human race followed him silently, along with the three crippled bodies wearing ghost masks.

Indiana gritted his teeth and turned to the transcendent experts, speaking in a low voice, "Everyone, night is coming. If you don’t want to die, find a place to hide. Don’t think that transcendent power makes you invincible. In front of the Black Screen Heaven, even transcendent experts are nothing but ants."

As soon as he finished speaking, he shot into the sky, soaring toward a fully intact palace to face the approaching night.

The other transcendent-level experts exchanged looks and ultimately decided to heed his advice.

The streets fell silent again.

Only one group continued walking along it—Braydon and his followers.

Night had fully descended.

There was no longer a single star visible over Maknum.

Suddenly, a howling wind carried in black fog from all directions.

On the streets, the black fog swirled and shifted, with faint figures moving within.

Black fog began to appear on the street where Braydon walked, but he paid it no attention.

When the fog saw him, it recoiled, retreating, as if too fearful to approach.

Elder Levine was stunned. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

He could sense something lurking within the black fog, something as powerful as himself—a great threat.

"What exactly is this Black Screen Heaven, Ancestor Neal?" he asked.

"It doesn’t like being talked about. In fact, I might be the only one in the Immortal Burial Ground who knows about it," Braydon replied, offering little more on the subject.

Elder Levine, deep in thought, shifted the conversation. "Ancestor Neal, did you and it know each other from long ago? Was there some kind of agreement?"

"No, I laid down a rule for it. I’ll let it live as long as it doesn’t harm any human descendants in the dark," Braydon said, his words calm yet laced with a commanding presence.

The Black Screen Heaven wanted to survive—under one condition: don’t touch the human cultivators.

This was the boundary Braydon had drawn.

If it crossed that line, the Black Screen Heaven would likely be erased in Braydon’s lifetime.

Elder Levine wasn’t foolish.

He understood that Braydon’s mention of the old rules implied dealings with the Black Screen Heaven in previous lives.