The Strongest War God

Chapter 2058: Carefree Inn Chapter 2058: Carefree Inn Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation Scipio Langdon’s shadow led them to a new world.

“Braydon, beyond this world lies the center of the Dark Yellow Thick Earth Alms Bowl,” Scipio said.

“Elder Juntenen and I are heading there now.

There are no experts in this world.

If you’re interested, you can explore.

If not, you can meet us later.” “My spiritual clone can’t take you there directly, so you’ll have to go on your own.” As Scipio’s shadow gradually faded, Braydon Neal nodded, his gaze sweeping across the new world.

The endless desert stretched out before him, its ochre expanse dominating the landscape.

A strong gust of wind whipped through, lifting sand and dust into the air, attacking Braydon like a relentless wave.

He frowned slightly, summoning his power to form a shield around his body, effortlessly blocking the storm.

The sand struck the barrier and fell lifelessly to the ground.

Braydon’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

The sand…

it was ordinary sand.

Initially, he had thought the storm might pose some danger, perhaps eroding flesh and bone.

Yet, it was mundane, unthreatening.

Suddenly, he noticed a disturbance in the sand ahead.

With a light tap of his toes, he launched himself into the air.

Bang!

The sand exploded.

A massive sandworm, its head lined with razor-sharp teeth, lunged toward him.

The creature’s foul stench assaulted Braydon’s senses, causing him to flinch slightly.

“Hasn’t brushed its teeth in centuries,” Braydon muttered with mild disgust.

With a casual wave of his hand, the immense force reduced the sandworm to scattered remains.

But Braydon’s confusion only deepened.

What was going on here?

Why did none of the creatures in this world have spiritual energy?

He paused, his eyes flashing with realization.

No!

This world… there was no spiritual energy at all.

Braydon’s expression darkened as he descended to the ground.

His divine sense spread outward, scouring the desolate expanse.

The barren landscape stretched for tens of thousands of miles, devoid of cities, people, or even the faintest trace of habitation.

“A dead world?” he wondered aloud, then quickly dismissed the thought.

A dead world would be utterly lifeless.

Yet, the sandworm’s vitality had been real, even without spiritual energy.

This world, then, could not be truly dead.

“Found it.” Braydon’s expression sharpened as he sensed a town, faintly pulsing with life.

Without hesitation, he surged forward, using his strength to traverse the desert at incredible speed.

In moments, he arrived before the crumbling gates of a city.

Built from yellowed soil, the gates had long since collapsed, while the city walls, weathered and fragile, barely stood, vulnerable to the lightest touch.

Walking through the desolate streets, Braydon observed the remnants of a once-thriving town.

Dilapidated lanterns, covered in dust, rolled lazily in the wind.

He moved deeper into the city, drawn by the lone aura of life he had detected.

His journey brought him to an old inn, its sign remarkably clean compared to the surrounding decay.

Carefree Inn.

Pushing open the warped wooden door, Braydon was greeted by its long-suffering creak.

Inside, a black-haired old man lay sprawled on a swaying recliner, a bottle of wine in his hand.

“Rare sight,” the old man said with a faint grin.

“It’s been over a thousand years since anyone new showed up.

I was so excited, I opened the last bottle of my collection.” Braydon paused, studying the man before speaking.

“Sir, who are you?” The old man chuckled, waving the question off.

“Names don’t matter anymore.

I’ve been stuck here so long, I’ve forgotten most things.

Tell me, young man, how much spiritual power do you have left?” He leaned forward, his tone turning serious.

“I suggest you conserve it.

There’s no spiritual energy in this world.

You must’ve felt it by now.” Braydon nodded, his suspicions confirmed.

“Were you also suppressed by the Ten Thousand Buddha Temple?” At this, the old man’s expression soured.

“Don’t bring up those bald-headed monks.

Just hearing their name irritates me.

They’re no better than the demons of the Myriad Demon Mountain.” Braydon sat down across from the old man.

“Have you always been the only one here?” “Of course not,” the man replied.

“When I first came, this world was bustling.

There were oases, and hundreds of thousands of people lived here.” Braydon frowned.

“But I scanned the area.

There’s nothing left—no life, no oases.

Just an endless desert.” The old man smirked.

“Want to know why?

It’ll cost you.

One jug of fine wine per secret.” Without hesitation, Braydon retrieved a box of strong liquor from his storage space, setting it on the table.

The old man sniffed, nodding in approval.

“Cheap ingredients, but the taste isn’t bad,” he said before leaning closer to whisper.

“A great demon came to this world.

Killed everyone, destroyed the oases, and left this desert behind.

That demon…” His grin widened.

“Was me.”

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