Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

So they continued pressing him. Without stopping. Without rest.

The minutes dragged on. Kyrian counted in his mind. Five minutes passed.

Dozens of exchanges.

The old man advanced, one thrust, then another, then a third, retreating, attacking again.

The axe-wielder spun his blades in a hypnotic pattern, striking from impossible angles.

The swordsman kept his distance, attacking with long, precise thrusts, retreating before Kyrian could counterattack.

The saber-wielder was the most aggressive, always advancing, forcing Kyrian to retreat, dodge, and expend energy.

Ten minutes.

Hundreds of blows exchanged.

Kyrian felt his muscles warming, his meridians pulsing, and his Qi flowing at an accelerated rhythm.

The other leaders were somewhat tired as well.

Their breathing had grown heavier. Some had burns on their arms or legs. The old man still had not recovered his left sleeve.

But they continued.

Because they knew.

Their realms were higher. Their Qi reserves as well.

Even though Kyrian possessed two cores. Even though he was monstrously efficient in his use of Qi...

Kyrian was still only at the Core Formation Realm.

’Fourth stage of the Core Formation Realm. Against four Spiritual Awakening cultivators.’

’The difference is truly immense.’

The leaders knew that. They only needed to wait. Tire him out. Then kill him.

A simple strategy. But an effective one.

Another exchange.

The old man advanced, a thrust that Kyrian dodged with a sidestep.

The axe-wielder came right behind him, a double strike, horizontal and vertical, which Kyrian blocked, causing fire to erupt before him.

Kyrian could not maintain a ring of fire around himself at all times. it consumed a great amount of Qi, especially now that his flames had become so powerful they could affect cultivators far above his realm.

That was why the battle had become so complicated. His Qi reserves were not enough to fight all four of them.

The sword came from the right. Kyrian spun, the blade grazing his back.

The saber came from the left. He threw himself forward, rolling across the volcanic ground, feeling the heat of the stone against his skin.

Another explosion. Another dodge.

Kyrian took a deep breath.

Then he realized.

If he continued like this, merely dodging, merely defending, merely reacting, the fight would last a very long time.

Too long. And he would be the one defeated in the end.

His eyes moved, assessing the positions of the four.

The old man in front of him, spear raised.

The axe-wielder on his right, blades spinning.

The swordsman on his left, sword pointed at his heart.

The saber-wielder behind him, blocked by the ring of fire.

Four directions. Four specialists. Four attacks.

They advanced simultaneously. Finally, all together.

The old man struck first, his black spear slicing through the air like a swift serpent, aiming for Kyrian’s chest.

Kyrian dodged, but the axe-wielder was already there, his blades sweeping low, aiming for his legs.

He jumped, but the swordsman had already predicted the movement. His sword rose in an upward thrust, aiming for his abdomen.

Kyrian twisted in midair, but the saber-wielder, who had circled around the ring of fire through a narrow angle, appeared behind his landing position.

Spear. Axe. Sword. Saber.

Four attacks converging from four directions.

He had no escape.

Kyrian’s eyes widened. They shone brightly. There was no time to think. Only to act.

The Aura of Fire exploded once again.

’WHOOOOOOOOOM!’

An orange tempest swallowed everything.

The shockwave spread in all directions, uncontrolled, unrefined, simply pure.

The four leaders shouted, not in pain, but in surprise.

They were thrown away.

Their clothes caught fire, the orange flames clinging to the fabric as though alive.

Their protections appeared immediately, translucent barriers, Qi shields, and talismans activated in haste.

The old man activated a bracelet that glowed red. The axe-wielder crushed a talisman between his fingers. The swordsman summoned a cloak of energy that enveloped his body. The saber-wielder activated a pendant that shone gold.

Even so...

All of them were repelled. All of them were forced back. All of them suffered.

The old man fell to his knees, his barrier cracked, and his arm burned.

The axe-wielder rolled across the ground, extinguishing the flames on his sleeve.

The swordsman spat blood, not much, but enough to show the impact.

The saber-wielder lost part of his eyebrow and his left eye to the flames.

For the first time since the four attacked together...

There was silence.

Kyrian breathed. Once. Deeply.

Finally. A second of peace.

He looked at the four of them. Burned. Injured. But alive.

His body trembled, not from fear or pain caused by the countless accumulated wounds, but from exhaustion. The Aura of Fire consumed enormous amounts of Qi and demanded much from his body.

Kyrian sighed. Slowly.

Truly irritated.

"Enough."

"It’s time to see the full power that the Bone of the Heavens allows me to wield," he declared loudly enough for all four to hear.

His orange eyes lifted toward the sky.

Toward the Great Volcano behind him.

Toward the magma sleeping beneath the mountain.

Toward the heat that filled the entire region.

The Bone of the Heavens pulsed.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Like a gigantic heart beating within his spine.

The world seemed to respond.

The air became hotter, not gradually, but instantly.

The stones around him began to redden, as though they were being heated from within.

Small cracks appeared across the ground, radiating outward from Kyrian’s feet like spiderwebs.

And a crimson glow began to emerge from within them.

As if the mountain itself were awakening.

The four leaders felt it. They felt it immediately. Something had changed.

The fire Qi in the surroundings, which had always been present but dispersed and natural, began to gather.

Around Kyrian.

Not as though he were absorbing it. It was as if the fire wanted to be near him. As if it recognized something.

The leaders’ expressions changed.

For the first time...

Genuine terror appeared on their faces.

They did not know exactly why. They only heard a rumble coming from the volcano, a deep, heavy sound that seemed to rise from the bowels of the earth.

As Kyrian’s skin began to glow.

Orange and red.

Like living veins running across his arms, his neck, and his face.

His spine shone so brightly that it could be seen through the clothes already torn by previous strikes.

Kyrian closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Feeling.

The magma. The fire. The heat. The mountain.

Everything seemed connected to him.

Like extensions of his own body.

As if the entire volcano breathed together with his spine.

Then he opened his eyes again.

The red flames within his pupils burned like miniature suns.

And, for the first time since the battle had begun...

Kyrian was no longer merely using the fire born from his own cores and comprehension.

He was about to command the volcano itself.