The Corruption Dragon God: Lust System Chapter 621 Sweet revenge

Qingyi couldn't remember anymore how long it had passed since he last felt this furious.

Meilin's grandfather's death was without question the peak of rage he'd ever experienced in life, yet this fury wasn't identical.

Currently surging through him was nothing but raw irritation, like a bratty kid shrieking endlessly straight into his eardrum.

His garments dripped with scorching fluid, his flesh burning even under the layer of dark scales.

"I've had enough of this bullshit," Qingyi snarled, activating his bloodline.

No ordinary hand had constructed that secret realm, though it remained tailored for astral blood realm powerhouses.

The Dragon God of Corruption's bloodline, drastically diminished from its celestial heavens prime, stayed the Dragon God of Corruption's bloodline nonetheless.

The instant a colossal dragon manifested behind Qingyi and its thunderous roar bounced along the passageway walls, the nearby arrays

instantly switched to safeguard protocol, deactivating to prevent breakdown from the bloodline's overwhelming pressure.

Naturally, he could waste hours devising strategies, hunting for the ideal path through the trial.

However, he wasn't the patient sort.

A dominant, prideful black dragon defined him.

Absent a doorway? He'd carve one. Swordless? He'd shred adversaries' necks using his talons.

Qingyi had embraced his inhuman reality long before. Snapping back to focus, he scanned the area.

Right away, the secret realm's steep failure rate made perfect sense.

Stretching beyond two hundred meters, the hallway brimmed with perils at every pace, arrays forbidding flight entirely.

"It's probably a secret realm created for a specific lineage. It's not meant to be overcome; in reality, it's full of traps like this to kill anyone who isn't from the correct lineage." Ruxue's voice resounded within Qingyi's thoughts.

"Ah... that makes sense... what would this dumb little husband be without his cute spirit wife to save the day?" Qingyi chuckled.

Intense anger gripped him, yet Ruxue's mere voice dispersed it all like fading mist.

He yearned to bury himself in her cleavage immediately, though the task demanded priority.

Striding rapidly, he arrived at the corridor's terminus, confronting a massive iron portal.

Thankfully, it proved a simple iron door, devoid of any foolish arrays.

Placing palms on the frigid, corroded exterior, Qingyi thrust forward, eliciting the grind of antique mechanisms reverberating down the passage.

The initial chamber filtered out the unqualified, slaying those without proper heritage.

The next area, though, genuinely functioned as a trial.

A spacious white chamber unfolded, roughly ten thousand square meters according to Qingyi's judgment.

Its atmosphere felt altered—thick and immobile.

Encircling arrays vastly outpowered the corridor's, wholly dedicated to fortifying walls, roof, and ground, akin to those in coliseums for fierce cultivator clashes.

Aside from Qingyi, a lone object occupied the space: a silver droplet-like form, suspended centrally mere meters from the surface.

Stepping ahead triggered the droplet's eerie motion, gradually contorting before solidifying.

An elder emerged, eyes deeply recessed beneath a lengthy white beard.

Spotting the figure, Qingyi shivered uncontrollably.

His previous mentor stood there.

Did that droplet mimic forms? Could it probe his recollections?

[Any mental attack capable of reading your memories would be immediately detected. It must be an array capable of reading your past destiny.]

Qingyi acknowledged the system's reply with a nod.

Probing one's destiny or fate ahead proved perilous, whereas scanning

prior destiny—particularly origins—proved far easier.

Regardless of its nature, the droplet had accessed Qingyi's history, employing details of his mentor to reconstruct the likeness.

An array exploiting recollections of departed kin to mislead trials.

The notion drew an involuntary laugh from Qingyi.

From everyone possible, the array selected his former mentor.

Maybe Meilin's grandfather or a spouse's image would have stalled him, but his abundant regard for the cursed geezer held no true fondness.

"My disciple..." The elder parted his lips, voice matching Qingyi's memory perfectly. "Why did you betray me? Why did you abandon my path and embrace this profane lineage?"

Advancing, tears welled in his gaze.

Silent, Qingyi permitted the approach amid countless hostile Qis assaulting his mind's bastion like corroded pins jabbing a barrier.

A soul assault unfolded.

As the elder spread arms wide, Qingyi mirrored, emotion flooding his features.

"Return to the path of light, seal this lineage, and renounce its impure

origins!"

The elder halted inches away, and right before contact, his expression twisted.

A sinister grin surfaced, potent murderous aura saturating the atmosphere.

The elder's hands morphed into razor edges, launching a Qi-infused strike poised to behead the youth.

Shockingly, Qingyi anticipated, unsheathing the Heaven-Defying Thunder Sword and slicing asymmetrically to detach both limbs from the body.

A crisp crack sounded, trailed by the heavy thump of appendages hitting the pale ground.

"That was for the time you tried to castrate me, you old son of a

bitch!" Qingyi bellowed, voice thick with long-awaited retribution.

Moments later, a savage kick landed, boot plunging into the elder's crotch with agony-inducing might for any mortal male.

The silver droplet flawlessly replicated its template, vulnerabilities included.

The elder crumpled, grasping his shattered manhood while howling in torment.