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He scooped up Trevon Neal, his expression morphing into one of astonishment. “Innate pinnacle realm, with a fully opened spiritual aperture? Whose child is this?”

The significance of an opened innate spiritual aperture, signifying pinnacle strength, was undeniable.

Even a layman could grasp its import.

The potential of such a child, once grown, was boundless.

Typically, such individuals were regarded as bloodline warriors.

Inheriting their parents’ bloodline meant they started at a remarkably high level, their strength burgeoning automatically without effort.

As they matured, they became formidable figures.

“Grandpa, who are you?” Judith Neal blinked, regarding Old Crane with curiosity.

“Old Crane!” Heather Sage approached, her voice hushed.

“Are these the Young Master’s children?” Old Crane snapped out of his reverie, swallowing hard. Tentatively, he inquired, recalling the rumors circulating in the outside world.

Tales spoke of Braydon Neal’s talented heir, and now it seemed those whispers held true.

“Old Crane, is there a matter you wish to discuss?” Heather inquired gently.

“I almost forgot. The former Lord of Kylo resides on the mountain. Sensing a sharp increase in the nation’s fate, he sent me to meet the young master,” Old Crane revealed.

He, too, was eager to learn of Braydon’s breakthrough, which seemingly had the power to amplify Hansworth’s destiny a thousandfold—an astonishing feat achievable through his own prowess.

Just the thought of it sent shivers down his spine!

“Old Crane, how have you been?” Braydon emerged from the living room.

“Young Master!” Old Crane greeted with a slight bow.

Braydon reassured him not to be overly formal.

Once he understood Old Crane’s purpose, he provided a definitive response.

For the next ten months, Braydon planned to remain in the outside world.

Then, when the time came, he would accompany the two children to Kylo.

Old Crane breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing Braydon’s decision.

However, at that moment, Old Crane’s countenance shifted.

The usually amiable man was visibly taken aback.

He pivoted, gazing into the distant desert.

Across the vast expanse, two figures emerged: Gideon Zavala garbed in black and a devilish youth clothed in white.

They descended upon the northern desert, originating from the 16th ruin.

Braydon remained unfazed.

While he recognized Gideon as an old acquaintance, the devilish youth was a stranger to him.

“Braydon!” The devilish youth approached with a smile.

Braydon regarded him with a hint of skepticism, sensing an odd familiarity despite their unfamiliarity.

This marked their first encounter, yet there was an inexplicable connection.

Meanwhile, only Old Crane observed the approaching devilish youth with astonishment, blurting out, “One eye, two pupils; a born saint!”

“Double pupil!”

Throughout Hansworth history, records of individuals with dual pupils were scarce yet remarkable.

Though ancient texts offered scant mentions, one prevailing belief endured: those with double pupils were born saints, possessing innate extraordinariness.

“The appearance of double pupils was exceedingly rare even in ancient times,” Old Crane remarked solemnly.

“Don’t be surprised. We crossed paths long ago. I’m the one who implanted the seed of life in your body,” the devilish youth remarked with a light chuckle.

Braydon’s gaze hardened.

They were adversaries.

In the 1st ruin, the green-robed man forcibly extracted the seed of life from Braydon’s body.

Now, the seed, saturated with his life essence, remained within him—a seed planted when he was just three years old.

It was an act of extreme cruelty.

Braydon and the devilish youth had no personal vendetta.

So why did he do that?

“My surname is Constantine Siegel,” the devilish youth introduced softly.

Constantine Siegel!

“Heather, please escort Trevon and the others back to their rooms,” Braydon instructed calmly.

“No need to fret. I’m only here to converse with you. There won’t be any harm to anyone or anything here.”

Constantine chuckled and approached Heather’s side, reaching out to gently stroke Trevon’s head.

The gesture nearly prompted Braydon to retaliate.

“If he had any intention to kill, there would be no survivors in the northern desert,” Gideon interjected, shaking his head.

Constantine possessed the capability to do so.

Not long ago, he obliterated the Donta Imperial City with a single strike, underscoring his ruthless nature.

Trevon raised his head, regarding the unfamiliar Constantine.

“A child with an opened spiritual aperture and innate pinnacle realm still needs to shed 30% of their foundation, lest they incur the envy of the heavens,” Constantine remarked solemnly.

Constantine raised his hand, a soft glow emanating between his fingers.

The light swiftly entered Trevon’s body—a seed of life, once again implanted.

In the past, Braydon himself had been subject to the seed of life when he was young.

Now, he could only watch helplessly as his son underwent the same forbidden technique.

Braydon’s expression darkened, a chilling aura enveloping him.

Constantine turned his gaze to Braydon, speaking softly, “Wait for the seed of life to mature before refining it.”

“Why are you doing this?” Braydon questioned, his voice laced with barely-contained anger.

Constantine gestured skyward with his hand, explaining, “Children born with extraordinary talents are prone to premature death. Some succumb to drowning at a tender age, others fall ill, or meet with natural disasters. These are all signs that they are unable to escape the whims of fate—the jealousy of the heavens.

“If one is born extraordinary, the heavens will envy them. Planting the seed of life ensures their growth isn’t prematurely halted. While it absorbs 30% of their life essence and cultivation potential, it can safeguard them from unnecessary misfortune and untimely death, allowing them to reach maturity.”

Constantine didn’t mince his words.

…

He continued softly, “The seed of life poses no immediate threat. Once it matures, you can extract and refine it yourself. It will replenish your innate foundation, making you stronger. Do you understand?”

In that moment, Braydon comprehended fully.

He had once been subject to the seed of life’s intervention by Constantine, a fact that likely saved his life.

In a world where the heavens wielded ultimate authority, survival until tomorrow was never guaranteed.

“Why did you assist me when I was young?” Braydon inquired softly.

“When you ascend beyond the divine realm, I will naturally disclose it to you. Today, my sole purpose is to observe your path,” Constantine explained.

With only one objective in mind, Constantine had personally come to witness Braydon’s martial arts banished immortal and ancient martial arts banished immortal.

In Braydon’s youth, he had incurred a debt of gratitude to Constantine.

At this moment, there was no reason to decline.

In an instant, two mental paths materialized behind Braydon, each leading to the martial arts banished immortal and ancient martial arts banished immortal.

The martial arts banished immortal had mastered 30,000 techniques, while behind the ancient martial arts banished immortal appeared 3,000 imperial paths, each more extraordinary than the last.

As Constantine activated his double pupils, a hazy light gleamed in his eyes.

Though the dual-pupils did not harm the two banished immortals, Constantine sought to discern their essence.

The sharp gazes of the two banished immortals locked onto each other.

“Haha, quite intriguing!” Constantine chuckled, his gaze fleeting. “Techniques necessitate paths to thrive, and paths rely on techniques to flourish. Should you manage to cultivate both simultaneously, success is assured.”

With his business concluded, Constantine, originating from the Spirit Sea, turned to leave.

He added as a parting reminder, “No one has succeeded on the path you’re undertaking. The only downside is its exceedingly time-consuming nature. Even upon reaching the divine realm, one may only live for a thousand years.”

“But you must understand,” he cautioned, “that mastering the 30,000 techniques of the mortal world within a mere millennium is far from sufficient to attain the pinnacle of techniques!”