The Corruption Dragon God: Lust System Chapter 687 - Are you ready to die?

An earth-shattering explosion erupted outside the cave, sending sand billowing in all directions as the ground ruptured with a deafening roar that echoed across the dunes.

A figure was propelled skyward from the swirling dust cloud.

Qingyi, his arms still throbbing from the immense force, clenched every muscle to withstand the shockwaves coursing through his body.

His adversary stood at the apex of the Celestial Origin Realm, a formidable opponent by any standard.

Qingyi, conversely, had not yet advanced his cultivation to the pinnacle of the Celestial Ascension Realm.

A gulf of sixteen cultivation stages, plus nearly two entire realms, separated them.

Even without considering any bloodline advantage, the disparity in sheer power would have been monumental.

However, not a flicker of apprehension crossed Qingyi's countenance.

Should the situation become critical, he possessed the ability to instantly elevate his cultivation to the peak of the Celestial Ascension Realm, thereby diminishing the chasm between them to a far more surmountable distance.

Releasing a frigid sigh, his gaze settled upon the dissipating dust cloud.

"Boy... boy... are you prepared for your demise? Hehehe~"

The deranged individual's voice reverberated across the desolate expanse, laden with a sadistic tone, yet Qingyi remained resolute, not faltering for a single moment.

Executing the Art of the Nine Spears of Celestial Fire, he unleashed all nine spears towards the crater in quick succession, each projectile streaking through the atmosphere like a comet wreathed in roaring flames.

In that precise instant, his bloodline projection surged to life.

A potent draconic aura suffused his being, and the fierce roar of the dragon emblazoned on his back descended upon the enemy.

Nine successive detonations ripped through the dust, each blast more tremendous than the last. The vessel recoiled violently as infernal heat radiated from the earth, causing the crater to widen ominously.

"Damn it... this scalds! IT HURTS! IT BURNS!"

Heart-rending shrieks tore through the conflagration as the crazed captain burst airborne on a surge of searing heat.

His flesh, which his madness had prevented him from shielding with Qi, liquefied over his exposed limbs and bones, melting into crimson and black tendrils.

Despite the horrific spectacle, Qingyi remained steadfast, pressing his advantage.

"Offer your neck, and I shall end this agony!"

A confident smile played on his lips as he initiated the Tempest Monarch's sword art.

He selected no particular posture, for upon its completion, such formalities ceased to be requisite.

Martial arts, in general, were predicated on forms: a specific swing, at a precise angle, with Qi channeled in a prescribed manner, each movement sculpted by the practitioner's spirit, intention, and comprehension.

Yet, the moment Qingyi mastered the twelfth form of the Tempest Monarch's sword art, all such conventions lost their significance.

Every sweep of his blade, from the most casual parry to the strike imbued with his very soul, constituted a flawless form, his mind wielding absolute dominion over every bolt of lightning.

It was not that the preceding forms had become obsolete.

Rather, upon perfecting the twelfth form, the Tempest Monarch had apprehended the fundamental truth of martial arts, thereby transcending its conventional boundaries in a singular moment of enlightenment.

At this very juncture, the Tempest Monarch's sword art had attained the status of a primordial-grade technique.

Qingyi's lips curled in assurance.

The Heaven-Defying Thunder Sword, crackling with electricity, sliced through the air with an audible hum.

The madman defended with desperation, his blade clashing violently against Qingyi's, the thunderous might of their weapons colliding in a cacophony of jarring impacts.

Qingyi's lightning and the captain's potent metallic Qi consumed all in their vicinity, showering blue sparks with each impact, instantly vitrifying the sand where they landed.

The comely youth grunted as their blades locked, a deep gash appearing across his neck, a trade for a wider, gaping wound inflicted upon the captain's chest.

Dark crimson blood cascaded down his blade, dripping in slow rivulets from its edge.

Bolstered by the extraordinary power of Qingyi's physique and the bloodline suppression emanating from the formidable black dragon coiling on his back, the two remained locked in a tense equilibrium.

They exchanged fierce glares for a fleeting moment before charging once more.

An electric dragon accompanied Qingyi's sword slash as he unleashed the full might of his draconic aura, his Qi overwhelming the madman's metallic Qi.

Then, the captain guided his own sword along Qingyi's, twirling with the erratic grace of a heavily inebriated martial artist, and with terrifying swiftness, compelled Qingyi to break off his assault and defend.

A trickle of blood escaped the young man's lips as he retreated several paces, the metallic tang flooding his senses. "Ah... now I comprehend the substantial bounty on your head. You possess considerable danger..."

Crimson liquid spewed forth by Qingyi onto the sand, his lips curling into a sharp grin despite the intensified throbbing within his chest. The deranged assailant, reveling in his own maniacal laughter, remained oblivious to the electric dragon he had evaded. In a flash, the dragon dissolved into myriad forms, transforming into a thousand phantom swords of lightning, each etched with the likeness of a dragon, all zeroing in on the man.

Qingyi mirthfully joined the madman’s laughter, assenting to the proclamation of his impending demise before, with a simple closing of his hands, unleashing the thousand blades.

They surged forward in unison, hurtling towards the identical destination.

By the time the madman grasped the unfolding situation, evasion became an impossibility.

Innumerable blades impacted his form, the electric Qi ravaging his flesh and Meridians, shredding him from within.

A choked cry, laden with excruciating pain, rent the atmosphere, and the remains of the insane captain slumped to the ground.

Not a solitary fragment of him remained whole, scorched portions of flesh scattering across the desolate sand.

Qingyi observed the fragmented remains as the spectral blades dissipated.

"May your soul discover the tranquility your mind failed to attain."

He offered a slight bow, a gesture of deference, then shifted his attention to the wrecked vessel.

He advanced a single step. At that precise instant, Ruxue’s voice caressed his consciousness, and his eyes ignited with realization.

"Qingyi, I detect the faint trace of one of my fragments emanating from that ship."