Transmigrated with my corruption system-Chapter 71: The Crowd Bears Witness

Rushing forward, a slight grimace stretched across Ulric’s face as the heavy scent of blood assaulted his nostrils.

Far worse than the carnage he had just unleashed. For as far as his eyes could stretch, bodies littered the ground as blood soaked the earth.

Causing him to shake his head slightly.

This was all just too disastrous.

Further up ahead, a huge crowd had formed, divided into two, the charging army of the Red Streaks and the remnants of House Greyson.

As they all stood, thoughts of war momentarily forgotten, their eyes fixed far up ahead in the distance. There, they could hear the resounding clash of battle, and even though they couldn’t see what was happening, the tension wasn’t any less intense.

The outcome was what would truly determine the course of this entire battle.

As they continued to stare listlessly, one girl among the crowd suddenly yelled,

"Look! Someone’s coming down!"

And as they looked further, their eyes widened as recognition flared.

"It’s the Young Lord!"

"Are you sure... he looks a lot different?"

"Even if I were turned into ashes, I’d still

recognize him!"

"Does that mean we won!?"

As the outline of the dark-robed figure grew clearer, a moment of silence descended among the crowd.

As they inhaled sharply. His aura... and the sheer pressure generated by his presence were overwhelming, sweeping across them in a crushing display even while largely retracted, signaling his monstrous strength.

Gasps of shock slipped through the crowd as they stared blankly. Within the crowd, a youth draped in a simple robe with a bow in his arms couldn’t help but have his lips twitch repeatedly.

"Something to aspire to, huh?" Kaeden muttered, a wry smile covering his face.

It had barely been a day since they parted ways, and yet now, he couldn’t even sense the peak of the youth’s power.

As the thoughts circled the back of his mind, his head shook slowly as he exhaled. Maybe some geniuses were meant to stand alone at the peak of their generation.

At least that’s how it looked. With the pace of growth and strength he naturally exuded, he doubted there was anyone in the younger generation who could possibly pose a worthy challenge.

Maybe within the royal cities and humanity’s greatest strongholds he had read about in tales.

But within Tempest City, peerless was the only description that came to mind.

At another edge within the crowd, a girl clutching a huge battered shield, with wounds piled across her face, couldn’t help but look up dreamily.

"Woah... so strong."

Every day, the youth seemed to grow far beyond her reach. Yet it didn’t make her give up, as the determination sparking across her eyes burned fiercely.

At another edge, a golden-robed youth came into sight, not especially pleased with all that he was seeing. As he hurriedly lowered his head, trying to shrink into the crowd, the mere thought of locking eyes sent waves of terror across his being.

Similar scenes played out across the crowd, varying wildly, especially among the remaining awakened youths who had witnessed his growth during the Wolf Den dungeon.

Back then, it was already monstrous.

But now... they didn’t even know anymore.

As the gasps grew louder, the voluptuous figure standing before the Red Streaks army slowly walked forward, blocking Ulric’s path as she stood before him.

Sporting short dark hair with dark eyes, draped in a green robe that tightly hugged her curves.

"You are the one who wields the darkness," Seraphina muttered, more as a statement than a question as her eyes slowly trailed over the dark-robed youth.

Even without looking closely, she could feel it through her E-rank senses. The dark energy that reeked from him was just too pure and concentrated, almost acting as a beacon.

Retracting her focus, her lips slowly parted.

"Where is Patriarch Orros?"

As the silence grew with the emergence of the dark-robed figure, the tension was eating away at them.

A few possible outcomes popped into their minds now and then, but none were very pleasant. Now, with the figure before her, it was time to dispel all doubt.

Staring at the figure before him, an irritated glint flashed across Ulric’s gaze. The crest embedded on her robe only fueled his irritation as he growled out,

"Orros is dead. Fallen by my hand."

A deathly silence descended as his voice echoed. Before all gazes fell on him.

Gasps slipped through the air as they almost choked on their breaths when the words registered.

The first filled them with relief.

But at the second, their minds struggled to process it.

With just the bit of aura that clung to his body, it was easy to sense that the Young Lord had broken into E-rank.

And given his strong presence, they believed he was strong for his rank. But not strong enough to kill a D-rank being. That was just too preposterous.

As murmurs swept across the crowd.

"This... I always knew the Young Lord was different. Now kill that crazy witch for me!"

"D-rank combat power at E-rank... was that even possible?"

"Aaargh... I can’t compare myself to him anymore. This is all just too depressing."

"What do you mean he possesses Patriarch-level strength while I can barely kill a level 5 beast?"

"I already knew the heavens weren’t fair... but what the hell is this? Is he the favored son of fortune?"

"Maybe it’s finally time I stepped away from the path of power. Knowing I’ll never achieve the strength he has even if I chase it all my life... my heart can’t take it anymore."

"Wait... so Lord Greyson didn’t kill the Red Streaks Patriarch... it was the Young Lord?"

As the murmurs raged on, Seraphina’s eyes constricted violently as her breath grew heavy, struggling to process the thought.

Dead?

That couldn’t be. Without the Patriarch... there would be no Red Streaks. Unable to take it anymore, she suddenly shrieked at the top of her voice,

"He’s lying! Kill him!"

Even for a strong E-rank being, it was impossible to fight across ranks and kill a D-rank opponent.

Watching rows of figures charge forward, surrounding him, Ulric’s eyes narrowed dangerously as his patience hit its limit.

He didn’t have time for this.

Just as the thought formed, dark veins flared across his body before the full force of his aura exploded outward, crushing into everything within a hundred-meter radius.

Seraphina, who had just yelled those words, suddenly plopped to the ground, falling to her knees. Behind her, cracking sounds echoed as bones fractured while the charging figures slammed into the ground.

Feeling the weight of the full aura, he could see Seraphina’s lips twitch rapidly, trying to force out words but failing repeatedly.

The tinge of defiance in her eyes burned brighter than ever. Causing Ulric to exhale slightly.

Clearly not the brightest. Time to reunite her with her master. Not giving her the chance to say anything more, he held out his hand.

A moment of silence fell. The figures in the crowd watched blankly, a bit terrified as they saw him effortlessly suppress almost a hundred figures simply by deploying his aura.

If there was any doubt before, this completely erased it.

All that remained was why he hadn’t killed them yet and was simply holding out his hand.

The answer came soon enough. A howling sound echoed from the distance as they saw a crimson blur rushing toward Ulric. Before they could even blink, the sound of an explosion rang out as a scythe fell into his grasp.

Tearing straight through Seraphina’s frame, tearing her apart mid-air. Before her fragments could fully scatter, the scythe buzzed rapidly, rushing out once more, absorbing every drop of blood as it glowed faintly before returning to Ulric’s grasp.

Looking at it, Ulric flicked it once more, issuing an order before his figure flickered into the distance.

"Kill and devour."

The figures within the crowd watched as the blade reaped the lives of the Red Streak clan indiscriminately, as if it had a mind of its own.

And as if that wasn’t enough, with every kill it sucked the essence out of them, leaving them as dried husks.

Far back, the elders who had followed behind Ulric to help with the cleansing could only stare blankly.

It didn’t seem surprising anymore that the Young Lord possessed a weapon capable of easily killing peak E-rank beings in a single clash.

Now that they had uncovered this, they couldn’t help but wonder how many more hidden abilities he had yet to display.

Further affirming one thought as they looked at his retreating figure far into the distance. The young lord was truly mysterious.

With every life the scythe reaped, Ulric could feel trails of warm healing energy flood his body as the wounds on him slowly closed.

His thoughts were cut short as he felt the presence of Lyra and Amber grow stronger.

Sprinting faster as he pushed his body to its limits while shadow teleporting in between.

He finally arrived before them.