ushernet Chapter 1409: He's My Son!
Chapter 1409: He's My Son!
Chapter 1409: He’s My Son!
Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The fiery-red essence of the path stretched a hundred meters in length, adorned with thirteen primal runes upon it.
Origin of fire runes.
Confirmation of his status as a peak saint.
He traversed the fiery path of the five elements.
The path enveloped him, coalescing into a domain.
Mastering such a domain would undoubtedly elevate his combat prowess to extraordinary heights.
Jaromir Neal remained steadfast, refusing to exploit his advantage.
He allowed Stiles Stone to ascend into the eminent saint realm.
But what did it matter?
He, Jaromir, had vanquished an eminent saint before.
Though Stiles had dwelled in the peak saint realm for thirty-one years, he had never claimed the life of an eminent saint.
And now, with Stiles’s breakthrough, a ten-meter radius surrounding him morphed into a domain.
Flame domain.
Nine fire elemental primal runes, each exuding profoundness, hovered within this domain.
The members of the Stone family erupted in jubilation.
The chasm between the saint realm and the eminent saint realm was immense!
It embodied an entirely different paradigm.
Stiles’s aura surged exponentially.
Within his domain, he stood as an invincible sovereign.
His combat prowess soared tenfold.
A blade materialized in his grip.
Scarlet Flame Saber.
Brandishing his saber, Stiles sported black horns atop his head, resembling a beast yet retaining a semblance of humanity, a fusion of madness and reason.
“Jaromir, today marks your demise!” Stiles declared, his confidence soaring.
He swung his flaming sword, causing the seawater within a thousand-meter radius to evaporate as the two engaged in fierce combat beneath the waves.
Upon the sea’s surface.
“I fear for Jaromir’s safety,” Torrance Siegel remarked gravely.
“You’re underestimating the situation. The gap between the saint realm and the eminent saint realm may seem small, but saints cultivate paths while eminent saints master domains. They’re entirely distinct,” Lyon Foreman explained, well aware of the vast disparity in combat prowess between practitioners of these disparate realms.
In the Spirit Sea, an eminent saint realm renegade once succumbed to a frenzy, indiscriminately slaughtering scores of individuals within the core region.
The Foreman family, Siegel family, Neal family—all three families banding together to eradicate the Stone family?
“Everyone, retreat!” Severin’s voice trembled with dread. “Flee this place!”
But was it already too late?
Lyon seethed with murderous intent.
The Foreman family held a deep-seated grudge against the Stone family.
The Six-Winged Goddess of the Foreman family had nearly fallen prey to the Stone family’s elder.
The Foreman family’s thirst for vengeance was unquenchable—they yearned to wipe out the entire Stone family.
With the three families united, what reason was there to cower in fear?
“Lyon, are you itching for war with the Stone family?” Severin snapped indignantly.
“My Neal family declares war on the Stone family. Will you accept?” Remington’s demeanor was poised as he hovered in the sky, a folding fan in hand.
Severin’s expression darkened at the challenge—speechless, he had no retort.
Remington, though not the branch master of the Neal family’s 72 branches nor a direct descendant, commanded respect.
Born into a branch family, he joined the Neal family in his youth, embarking on adventures alongside the current family head, Kohen Neal.
As Kohen ascended to leadership, Remington assumed the role of head steward—a position that garnered deference even from the branch masters.
His true prowess remained shrouded in mystery, though whispers of his expertise echoed throughout the family.
If Remington, a disciple of the 72 lineages, were elevated to the status of direct disciple...
The question of whether Kohen would inherit the mantle of Neal family head became less certain.
Torrance interjected coldly, “Remington, why waste breath on these wretches? Without their hand in Thirteen’s demise, our family might have two ten-eyed heaven’s favorites in this generation!”
“Thirteen...” Remington’s eyes shuttered momentarily, a veil of pain masking his features.
The mention of Thirteen drew Braydon’s gaze, prompting Remington to reopen his eyes, unleashing a torrent of murderous intent.
In a low growl, he declared, “Thirteen—my son.”
“What?”
Torrance and Lyon were utterly astounded, finding it difficult to comprehend.
Since Thirteen’s birth, the identity of his parents had remained shrouded in mystery within the Neal family.
Yet, who could have imagined that Thirteen was actually Remington’s legitimate son?
Braydon hadn’t inherited these memories from the fragment of remnant soul.
Jairo of the Golden Dragon Pavilion furrowed his brow. “The three of you are here today for the saint weapon...”
“Leave!” Remington’s gaze remained indifferent as he gestured with a hand, summoning a silver spear that pierced the heavens.
With a swift thrust, the spear rent the air, plunging the world into a deep freeze.
The entire expanse of sea, spanning nine thousand miles, was instantly encased in ice.
Upon witnessing the spear’s manifestation, the expressions of all present shifted in astonishment.
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