The Strongest War God

Chapter 1651 Gold Medal



Chapter 1651: Gold Medal Chapter 1651: Gold Medal Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation “This human prodigy is probably here to train.

There must be a path protector in the dark!

Who can protect such a young dragon?” Boraka Kadeye asked lightly.

The entire place fell into a dead silence!  Caimile Bengrina’s face turned ugly.  “If someone in our race can inherit the Ten Thousand Transformations Monarch Art or the funeral song, that is a forbidden technique that even peak experts are jealous of.

We will definitely take them in as our disciples and send servants who are second only to peak experts to protect them secretly!” “It’s good that all of you know this.

He’s an existence second only to the peak experts.

He can sweep across this battlefield and destroy eight middle-level demon camps with a single thought.

We’re already blessed that he’s not after us.

If we provoke him, we won’t be far from death!” Boraka’s tone was calm.  He didn’t lose his mind because of the Ten Thousand Transformations Monarch Art and funeral song.  Two cultivation techniques and forbidden techniques that shook the universe were indeed extremely tempting.  But do you think all humans were idiots?  Such a seedling would definitely be protected in secret.

“If Eldest Young Master obtains the Ten Thousand Transformations Monarch Art and funeral song, you will definitely become the one to lead the demon race in the future!” Caimile was a little unwilling.  Boraka’s ambition was aroused.  His eyes were burning with passion.  It was the brilliance of desire.  Unfortunately, his lust was quickly suppressed.  Although the cultivation technique was good, he had to be alive to get it!

“Haven’t you noticed?” Boraka put his hands behind his back and said, “Except for us, the other seven camps are already closing their defense lines.

There are even signs of retreating!” In the core battlefield, the eight demon camps had a huge advantage.  If he continued to suppress them, he would definitely be able to determine the outcome of this battlefield.  Unfortunately, the various military camps had all withdrawn their troops and did not dare to exert any more pressure.  There was only one reason!  The funeral song!  That person had returned.  Just this sentence alone shocked the eight demon camps.  No one dared to act rashly.

They were all afraid!

The horror of the funeral song had already struck fear into the hearts of demons, passed down through generations.  This fear would surely grow stronger with the birth of the funeral song.

Boraka shook his head.

“Throughout the universe, everyone knows how fierce internal conflicts can be among humans.

What they don’t realize is that among demons, it’s a hundred, a thousand times worse!” “Those old foxes always wanted Eldest Young Master to lead the charge, wearing down the human army’s strength while they sit back and reap the rewards!” Caimile spat angrily.

With a quick departure, Boraka had already sensed it.  Despite both races using similar battle merit systems, where merits were earned through enemy kills and distributed accordingly, what good were these merits to the nine-headed snake tribe now that their Eldest Young Master and many elite fighters had fallen in battle?  No amount of merits could bring them back to life.

“The other camps’ scheming is transparent—they want the demons to win big so that their families can profit without lifting a finger.

They seek maximum gain for minimum effort,” Caimile continued, his frustration evident.

Meanwhile, at the Meteor Sea, the Northern Army was cleaning up the battlefield and calculating their battle merits.

The Virtual Spirit Association oversaw this process using virtual artifacts to assess and distribute merits, ensuring fairness across all battlefields and putting an end to false claims and credit-grabbing among military leaders.

Braydon Neal stood in the main hall of the human military pavilion, surrounded by Patrol Envoy Braedy Leite, the eight commanders, and camp guardians.

Braedy Leite nodded.

“Please, take a seat.

I’ve already briefed headquarters on the Northern Army’s battle.

The Virtual Spirit Association will handle the distribution of battle merits, and the medals have been reviewed and approved.

“The Northern Army seized a low-level demon camp, earning 100 million battle merits.

They eliminated 98.6 million demons ranging from saint realm to holy master realm, totaling 204.79 million merits.

“That’s a grand total of 304,790,000 points!

Commander Braydon will receive an additional 30,479,000 merits.

“Lieutenants, 5% of the army’s merits go to you, with 1% to the regimental commanders.

All rewards have been distributed.” Braedy detailed the Northern Army’s achievements.  Their gains were truly remarkable.  Originally, they could have established their own military supply depot, but now it was unnecessary.  In the space battlefield, resources arrived swiftly via specialized channels whenever battle merits were accrued.

“Sir, where are the military medals?” Iason Foster inquired, drawing everyone’s attention.  These medals, bestowed by the military, held immense value—enough to secure a lifetime of wealth for the recipient.

“Everyone, please rise,” Braedy instructed with solemnity.

Swoosh!  They all stood up.

“A gold medal!” Iason exclaimed in astonishment.  Only those who had conquered a medium-sized demon military camp were eligible for such an honor.  The criteria for human military medals were stringent, and the yearly allocation of resources was meager compared to the vast battlefields of the universe.  Headquarters meticulously documented every medal recipient.

In addition, they would show favoritism to their direct descendants.  Medals were categorized into several grades: bronze, silver, gold, and beyond.  Previously, Braydon’s Northern Army had earned 100 bronze medals.  This time, they bypassed silver and awarded Braydon the coveted gold medal.  It was a rare honor indeed!

Braedy retrieved a box sealed with intricate engravings and opened it using the prescribed method from headquarters.  Inside gleamed a palm-sized, light yellow medal.

On its front, a faint figure stood with hands behind its back, exuding a majestic presence that seemed to embody the universe itself.  Etched behind the figure was the name ‘Braydon’, affirming its exclusive association with Braydon.

Braedy’s eyes shimmered.

“The race’s gold medal is reserved for those who make significant contributions.

There are three reasons why you’ve been awarded this honor!”

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