Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

No one responded.

There was no need.

They had all already reached the same conclusion.

Kyrian had found the inheritance. He was in possession of some treasure, perhaps several. And that alone was enough to condemn him.

Greed burned in the eyes of all four.

More dangerous than any technique. More deadly than any weapon. Blinder than any hatred.

Then, the old man sighed.

"You people are truly impatient."

His voice broke the tension, cutting through the silence like a knife.

The other three turned toward him.

"Isn’t this shameful?"

He asked calmly, as though reprimanding unruly disciples.

"Four Spiritual Awakening cultivators against a young Core Formation cultivator?"

He slowly shook his head.

"Even by the decadent standards of this territory, this is pathetic."

His eyes swept across his three companions, evaluating their expressions.

"Stand guard."

"I’ll handle him alone."

As he spoke, he withdrew a long black spear from his spatial ring.

The weapon immediately released a sharp aura. The metal seemed to absorb the surrounding light, creating a faint shadow around the blade.

Silver runes ran along the shaft of the spear, glowing faintly.

The other three leaders exchanged glances.

Silent communication.

After a few seconds...

They agreed.

Indeed, it would be excessive for all four of them to attack together. The image would be bad. Not that it mattered much, but still.

Besides...

Each of them had their own thoughts.

If Kyrian was truly strong, stronger than he appeared, he could consume part of the old man’s Qi. Wear him down. Weaken him.

If he possessed hidden techniques, traps, or protective treasures, he might reveal his trump cards during the fight.

If he was hiding artifacts from the inheritance, perhaps they would be exposed during battle and could then be taken.

Any outcome would benefit the others.

And more importantly...

None of them wanted to share Ming Hai’s inheritance.

The alliance between the four great powers of Red Smoke City had only existed until they found the treasure.

Now?

Now they were rivals.

All of them knew it.

Without a single word needing to be spoken.

The three slowly retreated, widening the circle.

But they remained close enough to intervene if necessary.

Forming a siege.

Preventing any possibility of escape.

The old man advanced alone.

He stopped roughly twenty meters in front of Kyrian, a respectable distance for a battle between cultivators, neither too close nor too far.

The two stood facing each other.

The wind blew between them, lifting ash from the ground.

The old man’s spiritual pressure spread across the mountain.

Heavy. Oppressive.

Far superior to that of Core Formation cultivators.

Kyrian felt the weight on his shoulders, not like a shockwave, but like an invisible hand pressing him downward. It was the kind of pressure that made ordinary cultivators tremble, sweat, and feel the urge to kneel.

But to Kyrian, that pressure was as good as nothing. His eyes would not allow any form of pressure to affect him.

Kyrian silently evaluated.

’Stronger than Feng Yuan.’

The comparison arose naturally in his mind. The leader of the Verdant Sword Sect was in the Spiritual Awakening Realm. Kyrian had felt his pressure several times before.

This old man was different.

’Perhaps not much stronger,’ Kyrian continued.

’But stronger nonetheless.’

’He’s probably close to the Second Stage of Spiritual Awakening.’

He was a dangerous opponent. Extremely dangerous.

But...

Kyrian’s orange eyes met the old man’s.

Neither of them looked away.

The black spear slowly spun in the elder’s hand, its blade slicing through the air with a low hum.

Releasing a cold killing intent.

"Last chance," he said.

"Hand over everything you found."

"Techniques. Treasures. Spirit stones. Everything."

"Then perhaps I’ll spare your life."

Kyrian looked at the four men.

Faces marked by ambition. Calculating gazes locked onto him.

Their weapons were ready, some already glowing with circulating Qi.

Greed.

Power attracted greed. Treasures attracted bloodshed. It was the oldest rule of the cultivation world, a rule Kyrian knew well, yet one that still surprised him with its consistency.

’No matter where you go, there will always be someone who wants to take what you’ve earned.’

’That’s why only strength matters in this world.’

He let out a long sigh.

Slow. Controlled.

Like someone accepting the inevitable.

It seemed he would not leave this place through words.

Only through strength.

Kyrian had no intention of handing over his spatial ring.

Inside it was all of his accumulated wealth.

The corpse of the Five-Horned Lava Lizard, with its valuable scales and draconic blood essence.

The hundreds of pills he had refined during his months in the Blood Court and the Verdant Sword Sect.

The formation plates he had crafted, each one a small masterpiece of spiritual art.

The thousands of low-grade and mid-grade spirit stones he had accumulated since the beginning of his journey.

Everything was there.

Even if Kyrian had some treasure to offer as bait, a pill here, a few stones there, the moment they saw the true extent of his wealth, they would rob him completely.

There was no middle ground.

There was no negotiation.

And Kyrian had no intention of being robbed.

He would fight if necessary.

A red flame glimmered within his pupils.

It was not the dancing flame of the Gray Flame Eyes.

It was something deeper.

The reflection of the Law of Fire that now inhabited his bones, his spine, and his blood.

The spine in his back grew warm.

It was not an uncomfortable heat.

It was a powerful heat.

As though something terrifying was awakening within him.

Qi began to circulate through his new meridians.

For the first time since the implantation, Kyrian was truly going to test his new body.

Not just his increased physical strength.

Not just his absurd resilience.

Not just his reinforced bones.

Everything.

The meridians.

The Bone of Heaven.

And also...

His new eyes.

Kyrian did not know what they could do.

He had not yet tested their abilities in combat.

But he could feel that they were different.

More powerful.

Deeper.

More alive than any of their previous forms.

And Kyrian felt no fear.

A small smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

Not a smile of provocation.

Not a smile of challenge.

A smile of anticipation.

For some reason, Kyrian did not feel the slightest trace of fear toward these leaders.

Four Spiritual Awakening cultivators.

All stronger than him.

And yet...

He felt no fear.

His body vibrated with energy.

His eyes burned with fire.

His spine pulsed with power.

"Come."

Kyrian spoke calmly.

His words were simple.

No threats.

No provocations.

Just an invitation.

The old man narrowed his eyes.

The black spear rose.

And the battle began.