Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Kyrian dismounted from Arcon on the outskirts of the City of Red Smoke.

The heat rose from the ground like the constant breath of a distant furnace, vibrating the air and distorting the view of the horizon.

The black-winged horse flapped its wings once, clearly bothered by the high temperature, its red eyes glowing with impatience.

A city guard, wearing light armor of black scales that gleamed under the diffuse light of the red clouds, approached upon noticing the high-level beast.

His eyes widened slightly when he saw Arcon’s imposing figure, a winged horse was not common even in the Northern Territory, where exotic beasts were more frequent.

"Quite a mount, sir." Said the guard, making a respectful bow.

"Would you like to leave it in the city’s official stables? We have specialized handlers."

Kyrian nodded without saying anything. The guard gestured for him to follow.

They walked down a side street wide enough for large beasts. The municipal stable was just a few minutes from the main gates, a sturdy construction of volcanic stone with a reinforced roof and several spacious stalls. The smell of hay mixed with ash and beast manure filled the air, a characteristic odor of any city that housed cultivator mounts.

Inside, several handlers worked, some brushing beasts, others carrying buckets of water and feed. A robust middle-aged man with old burn marks on his arms approached quickly, his eyes evaluating Arcon with experience.

"How long do you intend to leave the beast here, young man?" he asked, his voice rough but professional.

"A few days." Kyrian replied, his voice calm.

"Take good care of him. He doesn’t like excessive heat." 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

The handler looked at Arcon with respect and a bit of apprehension. High-level beasts could be temperamental, and that black horse exuded a pressure that made the other animals in the stables instinctively move away.

"We’ll place him in the coolest stall, at the back." Said the handler, pointing to a more shaded area.

"It has natural ventilation and shade all day. No other animal will be kept near him."

Kyrian took out several mid-grade spirit stones from his ring and handed them to the man. The stones glowed faintly, pulsing with pure Qi, more than enough for a week of care.

"That should cover his care and feeding for a week. If I take longer, I’ll return with more."

The handler’s eyes lit up at the quality of the stones. He made a respectful bow, deeper than before.

"You can leave him with us, sir. Your mount will be treated as if it were our own."

Kyrian gave Arcon one last look. The black horse watched him with intelligence, its ears upright, as if it understood every word. Kyrian briefly touched its snout, a quick, almost imperceptible gesture, before turning and leaving.

The horse neighed softly, like a farewell.

...

Now alone, Kyrian walked toward the center of the city.

The heat was absurd.

Even being at a relatively safe distance from the great volcano whose red smoke stained the sky, the air seemed to vibrate with accumulated heat. The black stone ground retained the day’s temperature and released it slowly, turning the streets into a slow oven. Each breath carried the smell of sulfur and ash, as if the very air were burning.

Ordinary cultivators sweated profusely, some using Qi techniques to cool themselves minimally. Merchants fanned themselves with improvised fans. Pack animals panted in the shade of buildings.

Kyrian, however, did not sweat.

His eyes were still in their ice form, white pupils shaped like delicate snowflakes, glowing with a supernatural coldness that violently contrasted with the surrounding environment.

A crisp, cold energy emanated from his body, creating a small pocket of mild temperature around him. Wherever he passed, people felt an unexpected breeze. Some turned their heads, surprised. Others whispered among themselves. Most simply stepped aside, feeling the icy energy that seemed to repel the heat.

"Look at his eyes..."

"Ice Qi. In this city? That’s somewhat rare."

Kyrian did not care about the attention.

If he could remain comfortable using his own power, why wouldn’t he? Hiding out of fear of others’ gazes was not his style.

...

The City of Red Smoke was enormous.

It’s impossible to explore everything on foot in just one day. The streets rose and fell along the slopes of the hill, forming a labyrinth of alleys, stairways, and connected squares.

Dark rooftops, stained with volcanic ash, stretched as far as the eye could see. Red and orange banners fluttered everywhere, emblazoned with symbols of flames and mountains.

Kyrian walked at an unhurried pace, his eyes scanning shop facades, smaller temples, and inner courtyards where disciples trained. The architecture was unlike anything he had seen, sturdier, more functional, and adapted to the heat and constant ash.

Many buildings had water channel systems running along the walls, likely for cooling.

It was the smell that caught his attention first.

A rich aroma of roasted meat, seasoned with unfamiliar spices, something spicy, earthy, and slightly sweet, drifted from a three-story restaurant with a black stone facade and red lanterns lit even during the day.

Kyrian’s stomach, which had been fed mostly with roasted beast meat during the fifteen days of travel, gave a clear signal.

He did not need to eat to survive. He could go weeks, even months, sustaining his body solely with Qi. That was a basic ability for any cultivator in the Core Formation Realm.

But Kyrian liked to eat. It was one of the few simple things he had enjoyed since childhood.

On this long journey to the Central Territory, he had decided something. He would try the food of every place he passed through. Each city, each force, and each culture had its own flavors. And Kyrian wanted to taste them all.

He entered the restaurant.

A young attendant in a light robe and hair tied with a red scarf approached quickly but paused for a second upon feeling the wave of cold that accompanied Kyrian. Her eyes widened as she noticed the snowflake-shaped pupils.

"W-welcome, sir." She said, regaining her composure.

"Would you like a seat on the first floor or...?"

"Second floor." Kyrian said simply.

The young woman swallowed nervously and guided him upstairs.

On the first floor, as he had already sensed from the energy of those present, there were only weak cultivators in the Body Refinement and Qi Accumulation realms.

Simple conversations, loud laughter, and the strong smell of cheap drinks. Rough hides and worn robes. People who had barely begun on the path of cultivation.

On the second floor, the atmosphere was calmer and more refined.

Cultivators in the Qi Liberation Realm, most of them, and a few in the Core Formation Realm occupied the tables.

The robes were better, the accessories more expensive. The conversations were quieter, more measured.

When Kyrian reached the top of the stairs, the cold emanating from him spread through the hall like a sudden winter breeze.

Several heads turned. Conversations quieted for a few seconds.

He ignored the looks.

He chose a table slightly apart, near a window overlooking the busy street, and sat down. The cloak still partially covered his red robe of the Blood Court, but it did not completely hide his eyes nor the icy energy.