The Corruption Dragon God: Lust System Chapter 466 - I prefer to call you a filthy cuckold, just like your master.

"Identify yourself," Qingyi commanded, his gaze remaining fixed upon the demonic cultist.

Neither man spared a single glance for the worm-like creature squirming on the ground nearby.

"You may refer to me as Mo Xuetian, or perhaps the Blood Knight," the man replied, his expression radiating amusement.

"Hm... I think I prefer to call you a filthy cuckold, just like that master of yours."

To Qingyi's amazement, the insult did not provoke a fit of rage from Xuetian.

On the contrary, the man’s mouth widened as he let out a thunderous, booming laugh.

"I admire your bravery, young man." Xuetian stretched his limbs languidly. "Even if such boldness will lead to your premature demise."

As soon as the words left his lips, Xuetian vanished. Transforming into a blurred streak of motion, he materialized at Qingyi’s side and unleashed a punch backed by his entire strength.

The two fists collided with a violent crash right in the heart of the chamber.

The shockwave rippled outward, instantly obliterating the throne Xuetian had occupied. The solid stone beneath their feet crumbled into fine dust, while scattered bones were blasted into the rocky corners of the room. The demonic cultist failed to mask his shock as he was shoved back exactly two paces. Qingyi, by comparison, retreated only one.

Xuetian had assumed Qingyi was, at most, slightly beneath him in power. However, that single exchange of blows made the truth undeniable.

In terms of raw physical power, Qingyi surpassed him.

A flicker of doubt crossed the man's face.

He despised uncertainty, yet he could not suppress a burgeoning curiosity.

Exactly how much power would he gain after consuming Qingyi?

Ultimately, his master required nothing but the souls.

Gnashing his teeth, he reached out with a lone hand. From a shallow slit on his wrist, a formidable, elongated blade of blood took shape.

His lips pulled back into a grin so distorted the corners of his mouth seemed ready to rip, his eyes gleaming with a frantic, avaricious light.

Qingyi unsheathed the Heaven-Defying Thunder Sword, tracking the initial crimson slashes as a silhouette began to manifest behind his opponent.

He could not afford to focus on that shadow yet; instead, he invoked the Third Form of the Thunderous Sword Art to shatter Xuetian's strike.

With a fluid spin of his body, he hurled a spear of roaring flames toward the demonic cultist.

A massive detonation rang out as Xuetian attempted to deflect the incoming projectile, only to be engulfed by a turbulent ocean of fire.

As the smoke from the blast dissipated, Qingyi’s eyes widened in shock at the figure formed by Xuetian's Bloodline Projection.

It was towering, possessing horns as dark as the abyss, a muscular frame, and skin the color of ash.

Qingyi recognized that Bloodline Projection perfectly.

It was the manifestation of the Celestial Demon—the very same entity whose lineage empowered the Mortal Heaven Demon Cult!

"You possess the bloodline of the Celestial Demon?!" Qingyi demanded. Gritting his teeth, he summoned his own Bloodline Projection in response.

A black dragon instantly materialized behind him, its mighty roar causing the stone walls to tremble violently.

Fortunately, the cavern was spacious enough to accommodate his full power.

"The deceased have no need for such information," Xuetian snarled, leveling his blade once more. His temper flared as he felt the sting of those accursed flames against his skin.

'Why is it so unbearably hot? Just how high is the fire affinity of this... this... loathsome worm?' Xuetian pondered, glaring at the black dragon looming behind Qingyi.

He could feel his own bloodline shivering and his Cultivation being suppressed, a sensation that only fueled his fury.

How dared this wretch cause the sacred gift from his Lord to tremble in fear?

Xuetian readied his weapon and lunged forward.

Qingyi met the charge head-on. In the center of the fray, their blades locked together.

A chaotic vortex of blood and thunder Qi aura swallowed their surroundings, sending violent tremors through the cavern and the forest high above.

They locked eyes for a heartbeat, the atmosphere boiling from the collision of their Qis. Every droplet of blood in the vicinity was instantly vaporized by the heat.

Qingyi felt his muscles begin to sear.

For the first time in an age, he experienced that specific sensation: the feeling of hitting a solid wall, of exerting every ounce of strength without seeing his foe immediately buckle under the weight.

It was a sensation he didn't mind at all.

With a powerful kick-off, he shoved Xuetian back and launched a counter-offensive.

Their swords clashed dozens of times within a single second, the resulting explosions vaporizing everything in their path.

Above them, the cavern ceiling began to cave in, though neither combatant cared.

Any boulder that strayed too close was pulverized into dust instantly, whether it fell from above or sat below.

After one final, earth-shaking clash, the ceiling gave way completely, and sunlight spilled over their bodies. Their weapons glinted as they continued to strike. The devastation had carved out a crater stretching over ten kilometers wide and nearly two kilometers deep.

"I believe it is time to conclude this, boy!" Xuetian bellowed, standing in a corner of the ruin.

He was a mess of injuries; his body was riddled with small cuts, his right eye had been lost, his skull was fractured, and his left leg dangled by a mere shred of flesh.

Qingyi’s condition was equally dire. A deep gash stretched from his chest down to his stomach; his left hand was gone, and his right hand was soaked in blood.

He gripped the hilt of his sword with white-knuckled intensity, ensuring it wouldn't slip as the Seed of Life began its slow work of mending his flesh. "Indeed, that would be for the best," Qingyi replied icily, manipulating his Shadow Qi as his foe took to the air.

Vast wings of crimson blood sprouted from Xuetian's back while his sanguine sword morphed into a spear.

Qingyi shut his eyes and called upon his Shadow Qi, sensing the ambient Qi being drawn into him as the profound darkness began to consume everything.

Taking a steadying breath, he exhaled and struck, unleashing the Ten Thousand Shadows Devouring Art just as Xuetian’s form hurtled toward him.

Yet, at the final moment—the very instant before their powers collided—Qingyi felt a sudden, piercing agony in his ribs.

"Die, you bastard!" Lucien screamed, his voice dripping with pure, unadulterated malice.