The Corruption Dragon God: Lust System Chapter 569 Don't fall behind, old man.

"Hmm... observing the young ones practice is quite an enjoyable way to pass the time. You'll get it when you're my age and, uh... don't have my lovely granddaughters around anymore."

Lucios shook his head while sipping his tea.

"No need to fret, old timer. They'll stay right beside me forever." Qingyi chuckled, sticking out his chest proudly as he settled beside the elder.

He too gazed at the trainees, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

In the realm of martial arts, sects typically specialized in just a single fighting style, usually mirroring the techniques of their founding ancestor.

Such groups like the Ascending Dragon Sect and the Eternal River Sect—where Qingyi had once belonged in the mortal realms—stood out as rarities, emphasizing diverse combat forms, pill refining, and even array formations.

This pattern held even more true for great clans, which often held just a handful or maybe only one advanced battle manual, echoing their ancestor's skills.

The Vaeldrinn family appeared to follow the latter approach, allowing its members the liberty to cultivate assorted martial techniques.

Within that group of youths, fighters wielded dual blades, slender swords, hefty axes, and even a female archer who stood apart. She loosed arrows with nimble grace, treating her bow's steel wire like a deadly edge.

"What's your take on them?" Lucios inquired, refilling Qingyi's cup with tea.

"They're... quite unusual. How many do you reckon have the talent to hit the twelfth ring?" Qingyi was already aware of the response, yet he sought the elder's perspective.

"Just one... the rest will struggle to surpass the eleventh." Lucios answered promptly, drawing a heavy sigh from Qingyi.

"Actually, two will attain the twelfth ring. The archer girl and the youth with the massive sword," Qingyi declared, eyeing the pair and igniting his draconic vision.

Their channels pulsed with strength, and though they matched the others in stage, their essence cores shone far superior to the crowd.

Yet that wasn't the full story.

Most notably, their weapon handling set them apart.

This distinctiveness could prove either a hindrance or a gift within the martial domain.

For one, an unconventional route demanded personal carving, frequently leading to tragic flops.

Conversely, nearly every supreme martial master was an oddity, since only treading a singular trail could they eclipse the legends of old.

Should they avoid early demise and persist on their unique ways, Qingyi figured the duo held at least a sixty percent shot at the twelfth ring within a millennium.

"Hmm..." Lucios stayed silent on Qingyi's differing opinion.

He felt a touch ashamed at missing what Qingyi spotted in those youngsters, and he trusted his own sight no more.

Age had caught up to him, sure. But truth be told, Qingyi had already outpaced him.

"Care for some sparring?" Lucios rose to his feet. "These aging limbs will stiffen and snap if I let them idle too much longer."

"Let's hunt down some greenskins instead." Qingyi grinned. "They plague both elvenkind and humans, don't they? Wiping them out would make for fine entertainment."

"Greenskins?" Lucios appeared puzzled. "They're days of travel from here. You figure we can spare the trip?"

The notion didn't displease him.

Greenskins—orcs, goblins, kobolds—had long been a relentless scourge to his folk and to humanity.

They bred at a terrifying pace, with orcs especially able to churn out transcendent powerhouses in droves.

Their savage natures rivaled demons, and for each slain, a dozen sprang up to replace it.

"Forget about time or distance." Qingyi laughed, clapping the elder's shoulder. "Such things hold no sway over me."

As his words echoed, a rift in space engulfed them both.

In moments, the youths who'd been observing stood alone, bewildered and stunned.

What in the world had just transpired?

***

The greenskins' marshlands lay at the far west of the western continent.

This area spanned just over double the expanse of Valemont Kingdom, teeming solely with savage creatures and murderous fiends.

Some posed little threat, while others could challenge even Lucios in might.

And they weren't solitary.

Dozens of orc chieftains matched that level, with fresh ones emerging upon each leader's fall.

Folks claimed the greenskins hadn't conquered the globe or forged an unassailable empire solely due to their dim wits and ceaseless infighting, perpetual slaughters among themselves.

As the wider world eased and reveled in the Heavenly Demon avatar's demise, the orcs sulked. The crimson heavens signaled battle to all, the quakes shaking the planet only confirming it.

They'd even amassed in a vast encampment of over forty million strong, poised for war deities to arrive and whisk them to endless combat.

Yet nothing came to pass.

The scarlet firmament faded, and tranquility reclaimed the lands.

They'd lingered in anticipation of those deities for days beyond most's reckoning.

Inevitably, with countless orcs packed so densely, clashes ignited between the war chiefs.

It was merely a question of when the whole affair erupted into a gory internal strife.

Luckily, such turmoil proved unnecessary.

On a bright, balmy midday, a pair of silhouettes materialized overhead, eyes piercing and auras terrifying.

As the initial blast consumed the orc settlement and pandemonium reigned, those hungering for conflict could only leap in delight.

At last, their weapons would taste true purpose.

Shoulder to shoulder, Qingyi and Lucios beheld the orc swarm surging their way, gazes wild with frenzy.

The lowliest ranked at the third ring. The mightiest touched the twelfth.

"Keep up, old man." Qingyi smirked, unleashing the carnage.