The Corruption Dragon God: Lust System Chapter 622 Screw the Yan family too

"An array mimicking a loved one to deal psychological harm to a cultivator. Quite the bitch of an array."

With a fierce growl, Qingyi stomped the old man's head, ending him with a crushing strike.

For anybody else, surviving that first array alive would have been nearly impossible, especially then facing the silver tear with drained Qi and a fatigued mind.

Bad luck for the array's creator, though—Qingyi wasn't just anybody.

He stood as the ultimate foe to arrays not designed for brute-force shattering.

The unrivaled expert at demolishing arrays through sheer power.

Under his feet, the tear shattered into powdery ash that faded quietly into nothingness.

Brushing off the remnants, Qingyi headed toward a door at the opposite end of the vast hall.

This door stood apart. Golden and majestic, its surface etched fully with intricate characters.

Gaze sharpening, Qingyi scanned the inscription.

"By passing through the corridor of a thousand deaths, you have proven that your lineage is worthy and pure.

By standing face to face with the one you loved most, you have proven that your heart is resolute.

By killing the one you loved most, you have proven that your will is ruthless.

By leaving the one you loved most behind and moving forward, you have proven that your mind is clear.

The Yan family still has hope for the future."

As soon as Qingyi finished the words, a resounding metallic clang filled the chamber, like a massive lock finally freeing itself after endless ages.

Slowly, the golden door swung open, unveiling what lay within.

A cavern hewn from solid rock housed a petite red pavilion at its heart, perched on dark stones and encircled by a stream pulsing with vital glow.

Celestial spirit crystals bathed the surroundings in gentle blue radiance.

Weapons, armors, garments, and scarce alchemy ingredients—treasures rare even for stellar sovereigns—crowded the pavilion, each radiating a subtle, elegant presence.

Yet nothing drew Qingyi's eye like the items on the central podium: a verdant elixir and next to it, a plain-seeming talisman.

Beneath them sat a stack of several dozen books. Various ancestral techniques, none sparking his interest.

"Young Yan... Future of our glorious family..."

A voice rang from the pavilion's core, and a spectral figure materialized with arms spread wide.

This remnant will belonged to a past expert, one who had reached stellar sovereign realm in life.

Calling it a soul-bound ghost tasked with greeting the secret realm's heir wouldn't be off.

"You have proven yourself a member of our family and passed the test of soul and heart; you are-"

The statement cut short abruptly.

The ghost gawked at Qingyi, eyes blinking in confusion.

"You're not from the Yan family?"

"No."

"But... how?"

"I used my bloodline to force those damned trap arrays to shut down. After that, it was pretty easy to get here."

"Oh..."

An uneasy quiet hung in the air.

"So... why don't you leave?" the ghost finally asked.

"This treasure is for the heir of the Yan family, to rebuild our glorious Empire. You're not from the Yan family, so... Hey, are you listening to me?"

The ghost popped up before Qingyi, who was already sweeping all the room's items into his spatial ring.

"Yes, I am," Qingyi answered, sparing a quick look at a stunning sword before tucking it away.

That one would fetch a high price at auction.

"Then why are you still taking the items? They belong to the Yan

family!" the ghost protested, voice laced with outrage.

"Because it took me a bit of effort to get here, and because whoever made that damn trap room is, without a doubt, a son of a bitch." Qingyi shot back coolly, pocketing yet another treasure without glancing at the ghost.

"And I'm stealing from you right in front of you right now. Do you really think I give a damn about your Yan family?"

No retort possible, and lacking any attack power, the ghost could only observe mutely as his treasures vanished piece by piece.

The secret realm did feature a self-destruct feature against such theft,

but it triggered only if a higher-realm expert breached the cultivation cap to barge in forcefully.

Here, it served just as a warning, the usual safeguard in these secret realms.

In the end, with a look of utter defeat, the ghost watched Qingyi claim both the elixir and talisman.

"What is this?" Qingyi inquired, lifting the talisman for a curious inspection.

"It's an attack talisman capable of killing even a celestial emperor with

a single strike..." The ghost sighed, total resignation setting in.

"No chance." Qingyi chuckled.

A celestial emperor marked the peak of cultivation in the celestial

realm. How could any item slay such a powerhouse in one hit?

Qingyi's smirk held until the system revealed the talisman's details.

True enough, it could unleash a strike lethal to a celestial emperor realm expert.

How something so potent ended up here baffled him.

Whatever the case, grinning widely, Qingyi slipped it into his space ring.

After the rude looting and total dismissal, the ghost lingered alone in the hushed chamber.

His gaze turned vacant, ethereal features heavy with the weight of endless pointless waiting.

"Well, I tried my best. Screw the Yan family too. I've been stuck here

for a million years for nothing...

With a final sigh, the ghost faded away, at last embracing the cycle of reincarnation.

***

Outside, Old Ma paced in tense anticipation of Qingyi's return.

That tension resolved quicker than anticipated when the golden pavilion's door creaked open.

"Ah... another failure..." the old man murmured, spirits crushed.

He'd harbored real hope this round, but Qingyi's swift exit dashed it all.

Every youth who dared that secret realm shared the same doom.

They staggered out weary and spent, describing endless trap-filled corridors that sapped their Qi fast.

Even prodigies seldom advanced beyond twenty paces before desperation and depletion forced retreat. Yet every one endured hours at least.

Had Qingyi conquered the secret realm with such ease, Old Ma would gladly offer his stunning, gifted granddaughter's hand.

She was the family jewel, a beauty and talent of otherworldly caliber, whisked away by a master for training in the celestial heavens' core, realms dwarfing even him.

In a hushed jest to the heavens, the old man voiced that vow, never dreaming the regret heading his way so soon.