The Corruption Dragon God: Lust System Chapter 570 - Slaughter

By their very essence, orcs embodied raw savagery.

Legends whispered that they hadn't always descended to this state, once standing as a noble and structured people of valiant fighters, only to degrade over eons into a chaotic horde of savages.

Qingyi had encountered such tales repeatedly, yet they held no interest for him whatsoever.

Whether they had previously been a noble and structured society made no difference now.

At present, these foul green hides were mere fodder for his blade. Lucios initially reeled from the sudden teleportation, yet recalling Qingyi's prior use of the ability on him allowed him to steady his nerves.

His gaze locked onto the vast orc hordes encircling them, every one bellowing in fury.

Directly ahead lay roughly a hundred thousand foes. However, he understood the full encircling force reached into the tens of millions.

Should these scum ever coordinate to invade human territories rather than senselessly slaughtering among themselves, it would spell ruin for numerous realms.

Such an onslaught might even topple the formidable Rose Empire. And once the Rose Empire crumbled, what target would follow?

Lucios realized he must leverage Qingyi and this opportunity to the utmost.

"Not a single one of you scum will escape this place alive!" Lucios bellowed, hurling himself into the orc throng.

One sweep of his sword claimed a thousand lives.

Qingyi, trailing closely behind, merely chuckled while observing the eager green-skinned fighters surging toward them.

The earth quaked under the thunderous march of millions of feet, all the orcs funneling inward to the spot where the pair positioned themselves.

Clasping the Heaven-Defying Thunder Sword firmly, he surged ahead.

In contrast to Lucios, his initial strike yielded little impact, pitting him directly against a twelfth-ring orc.

"Stupid hummie! Die!" The orc bellowed in delight, perceiving that Qingyi aimed for a raw power clash.

Though Qingyi possessed great might, to this orc war chief, he remained a fragile human.

Regrettably for the orc, his assumption couldn't have been further from the truth.

The orc's axe clashed against Qingyi's sword, yet it felt like slamming into an unbreakable steel barrier.

A violent shock rippled up the orc's limb, his own force rebounding through his skeleton.

A agonized howl rang out as the warchief's arm contorted, muscles ripping apart and bones pulverizing to powder.

His legs scarcely buckled to the dirt before death claimed him.

In the wake of his collapse erupted a blast, swallowing hundreds of meters around Qingyi in utter devastation.

Lucios, already locked in battle with another orc

warchief, likewise from the twelfth ring, couldn't suppress his

jaw dropping in awe.

One of the world's fiercest monsters, vanquished utterly by a lone strike.

The veteran elf clenched his jaw.

Just how formidable was Qingyi?

'Ah... if only time weren't so merciless...' He shook off the thought, steadied his breath, and refocused on the fight before him.

His weapon, a graceful elongated elven blade, smashed into the orc warlord's massive greatsword.

The terrain underfoot crumbled to powder, their weapons entangled in a brutal stalemate of power without a victor.

The orc loomed over Lucios, his jaws parting in a primal bellow.

The dragon elf patriarch instinctively averted his face a bit, channeling his mana to shield his hearing and vision.

It appeared as a mere standard bellow. Yet orcs at the ninth ring, on par with true immortals, caught in its wake were forced flat to the earth.

They wailed in agony, gripping their streaming ears.

A shiver coursed through Lucios' back upon witnessing that.

Without his timely defense, grave wounds would surely have afflicted him.

Clenching his teeth, the elder yielded the raw strength duel to the orc, pulling back to create the widest gap possible.

Halting roughly a hundred meters distant and eyeing the orc gearing up to pursue, Lucios grinned.

Indeed. This was precisely his intent.

His gaze sparked. Ten bolts of verdant lightning fused with his blade, swiftly proliferating to a hundred, then a thousand.

"Behold my ultimate skill, monster. Born from more than a millennium of refinement." Lucios snarled. "Revel in dying by it."

As his words ended, he lunged forth.

His form blurred into motion, the thousand emerald streaks fanning across

every angle. slicing myriad orcs apart like keen blades.

The orc warchief scorned evasion. His features lit with thrill as he met the onslaught squarely.

Mana surged wildly around his armament, smashing into Lucios' saber.

He anticipated halting the assault thus. Yet something escaped his notice.

Lucios' sword halted, though the encircling lightning pressed on.

As a radiant streak, it pierced the warchief's frame and stretched onward for miles, claiming tens of thousands of orcs in its path. The orc war chief stiffened briefly, uttered a low groan, and disintegrated into neatly diced slabs of flesh.

"Impressive work, elder!" Qingyi grinned, perched atop a mound of orc remains.

Encircling him, over three thousand spectral blades conjured via the Fourth Form of the Tempest Monarch Sword Art darted swiftly, relentlessly carving through orcs.

Every one wielded might matching an immortal emperor's— and combined, they sufficed to overwhelm any astral body realm master.

Observing the spectacle, Lucios merely shook his head.

The display was utterly preposterous.

In that brief span, how many orcs had Qingyi slain? Thirty thousand?

Even for someone of his caliber, dispatching so many in such haste proved challenging, particularly since numerous orcs had attained the

twelfth ring.

Exhaling in resignation, the aged elf quaffed a mana restoration elixir and reentered

the carnage.