Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Each time Kyrian acted, the group’s respect grew.

No one spoke openly, especially in front of the elder, who was already showing jealousy at the attention Kyrian received, but the looks said everything. The disciples exchanged meaningful glances among themselves, small nods, and discreet smiles.

’If Kyrian were in command, maybe it would be easier.’

The elder continued fighting with full strength against the more dangerous beasts. A Magmatic Stone Golem nearly five meters tall demanded almost ten minutes of intense combat from him, blows that made the ground tremble, and fire techniques exploding against the creature’s stone shell.

When it ended, the man was panting.

He tried to hide it, straightening his shoulders and forcing an expression of indifference. But Kyrian saw the heavy breathing, the sweat running down his neck, and the slight tremor in his hands.

The elder was not weak. But he was at his limit.

...

At the end of the day, after countless confrontations, the group had not found any sign of an ancient structure.

No tomb. No inscriptions. No artifact. Only beasts, flaming carnivorous plants, natural traps, and a suffocating heat that gave no respite.

Without Kyrian’s constant protection, the cold mist that neutralized the extreme heat, the barriers that blocked unexpected attacks, and the rescues that saved lives, several disciples would have died.

The sun had set long ago.

The Great Volcano, however, did not grow completely dark. The reddish glow of lava flowing through distant fissures, combined with the reflection of the hot ash that constantly fell, kept everything in an infernal dimness, like the eternal twilight of a burning world.

The elder ordered a halt.

"Rest for two hours. Recover your Qi. Then we continue."

The cultivators obeyed. They sat in a circle on relatively stable ground, taking restorative pills and meditating. Even at night, the heat was suffocating.

The elder kept a closed expression, lips pressed into a thin line. Clearly frustrated with the lack of progress.

Kyrian sat a bit apart from the main circle.

He simply closed his eyes for a few minutes.

Pan Zheng approached again.

"Kyrian." He whispered, sitting beside the young man with ice eyes.

"Be careful at night. During the night, common beasts hide underground. But at night, they come out to hunt. Nocturnal beasts."

He looked around, as if afraid of being overheard.

"They have fire energy like the others, but they’re different. Silent. Almost invisible. They usually approach slowly, very slowly, and attack with concentrated fire at close range." His voice dropped even lower.

"When you see the fire, it’s usually already too late."

Kyrian nodded.

"I understand."

He didn’t say what he saw.

Eight dark presences surrounded the group at a safe distance, hidden behind rock formations and within fissures in the ground. Nocturnal beasts, agile, silent, patient. Waiting for the ideal moment to strike.

The strongest among them was in the Core Formation Realm. From the vibrations of its Qi, Kyrian judged it to be almost at the same level as the elder.

Kyrian didn’t warn anyone.

Fear only hinders combat. Besides, he was growing impatient. He wanted to reach the Inner Area soon. He had no intention of wasting time with nocturnal beasts that could be eliminated silently.

Without anyone noticing, above their heads, eight spears of ice materialized in the dense darkness.

They were thin, as thin as Kyrian’s pinky finger, but sharp like spiritual iron needles. Their surface glowed faintly, reflecting the reddish glow of distant lava. Each one was filled with pure intent and dense Qi enough to pierce steel.

The spears shot forward simultaneously.

They cut through the air like silent shadows. There was no whistle. No flash. Only the fast, lethal motion of eight ice projectiles flying toward eight invisible targets.

Behind the rocks, within the fissures, the nocturnal beasts died before realizing what hit them.

Sharp cries echoed through the night, short, abruptly cut off. The sound of bodies falling against stone, of limbs twitching in final spasms.

The entire group stood up in alert.

Weapons were drawn. Flaming Qi ignited in fists and blades. Pan Zheng and the elder looked around, tense, their senses stretched to the limit.

But nothing appeared.

No enemy emerged from the darkness. No attack came their way. Only the cries, and then, silence.

"... What was that?" murmured a disciple, his voice trembling.

"Maybe beasts fighting each other." Suggested another, clearly trying to convince himself.

"At night, they get more aggressive."

Pan Zheng said nothing. He looked at Kyrian.

Kyrian remained seated, expression neutral, his snowflake-shaped eyes fixed on the dark horizon. There was no tension in his shoulders. No strain in his breathing. He seemed as calm as someone sitting in a garden on a cool afternoon.

The elder also looked at Kyrian. His eyes narrowed, but he made no accusations. What could he say?

"You killed beasts no one saw?" That would sound like madness.

"Continue resting." Ordered the elder after a long silence.

The group obeyed, though with less calm than before.

...

The night dragged on.

Visibility was terrible, the thick ash falling from the sky reduced vision to less than twenty meters. But Kyrian led the way with confidence, his ice eyes piercing through the darkness and smoke as if they were glass.

Surprisingly, they encountered no more beasts for the rest of the night.

What should have been the most dangerous period, when the most active nocturnal creatures hunted, became almost peaceful.

The disciples walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Some whispered quietly, finding it strange.

"Maybe we’re lucky today..."

"I’ve never seen the Intermediate Area this quiet at night."

"Strange... very strange."

Pan Zheng listened to the comments without participating. He looked at Kyrian with growing suspicion, something forming in his mind. But he said nothing. He had no proof. And even if he did, he didn’t know if he wanted to make the accusation.

The night dragged on between ash, heat, and tense silence.

...

When the first sign of dawn tinted the sky a lighter red, not the blue of a normal sunrise, but an orange glow seeping through the smoke, the group had advanced considerably.

Even so, no significant discovery.

Kyrian walked in silence, his thoughts calm.

’They will continue exploring only the Intermediate Area.’

’They won’t risk the Inner one so soon. The elder is too cautious, and the disciples are afraid.’

Something told him that nothing important would be found there. The beasts, the traps, the heat, all of it was just the surface.

The true inheritance, if it existed, would be deeper. Closer to the heart of the volcano.

He decided.

’After a few more hours, if nothing changes, I will separate from the group.’

Pan Zheng and the others were good people, especially the young man in the scarlet robe. But Kyrian didn’t like to explore slowly.

Kyrian had not come to the Great Volcano to walk in circles in the Intermediate Zone. He came out of interest, a small curiosity about Ming Hai, and now about the spirit that might exist there.

If there was something there, Kyrian was confident he would find it.

Alone, if necessary.

...

The exploration of the Intermediate Area continued for a few more hours. The terrain became increasingly unstable, with wide fissures releasing corrosive vapor and stretches of ground that seemed to pulse as if they had a life of their own. The group moved slowly, their energies increasingly drained as they went deeper into the area and climbed the Great Volcano.

Suddenly, Kyrian stopped. His body became completely still, his snowflake eyes fixed ahead.

Everyone stopped immediately behind him, wondering why he had suddenly halted. They all now followed his movements due to his ice domain and the respect they had for him.

The elder, who was walking a few steps ahead, frowned and turned when he felt everyone had stopped without his order.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice filled with impatience.

Kyrian answered directly, without looking away.

"There are ten people ahead, coming toward us at high speed. They seem to be fleeing from something."

"Distance?" Pan Zheng asked quickly, stepping closer.

Kyrian answered without hesitation.

"About eight minutes of running at their current pace. They’re exhausted. Two appear injured."

Many were surprised that Kyrian could see someone so far away through such dense ash, but no one commented. They had already realized that Kyrian’s eyes were special.

A murmur spread through the group. The elder narrowed his eyes, clearly skeptical, but he did not dismiss the information. After everything he had seen Kyrian do so far, ignoring him would be foolish.

"Prepare yourselves." The elder ordered, drawing his sword.

"Defensive formation. If they are survivors from another group, they might bring useful information. We’ll wait for them here."

Kyrian remained still, watching the distant vibrations. Whoever they were, they were running as if hell itself were chasing them. And something stronger followed them, something large enough to make the ground tremble slightly every few seconds.

Kyrian couldn’t see what was chasing those people. he assumed whatever it was, it was underground.

Whatever was coming, the boredom of the Intermediate Area seemed about to end.