Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Kyrian began descending the Great Volcano.

The heat was still intense.

Ashes danced through the air, thick as snow, covering the ground with a soft gray layer that muffled the sound of his footsteps.

The sky remained covered by a dark blanket of smoke, so dense that it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night. Only a faint glow, coming from somewhere above, indicated the position of the sun.

But now everything felt different.

Silent. Calm.

The volcano no longer roared like a furious beast. Its thunder had ceased, its eruptions had diminished, and its fury had settled.

It seemed to be merely breathing. Slowly.

Like a colossal creature returning to sleep after a moment of rage.

...

Kyrian walked without haste.

There was no reason to hurry. The battle was over. The enemies were dead. The danger had passed.

His body had recovered considerably thanks to the recovery pills.

But it was still far from its ideal condition.

His meridians still ached, a dull and constant pain, as if tiny needles were lodged within every energy channel.

The two cores had not yet fully recovered the Qi they had lost. They rotated slowly, producing energy at a reduced pace.

And the Bone of the Heavens remained silent. Without glow. Without pulsation.

As if it were asleep.

Kyrian touched his spine for a moment, feeling the temperature of his skin through his torn robe.

He could still sense its existence, that profound and powerful presence.

But that was all. A presence. Nothing more.

There was no sign of the absurd power that had allowed him to control the entire volcano, that had granted him wings of fire, that had connected him to the magma deep beneath the earth.

’I’ll need a long time before I can use that again.’ Kyrian thought.

’Probably longer than I imagined.’

’Weeks. Maybe months.’

Even so, he was not worried.

Powers of that magnitude should not be used easily. In fact, it would be strange if they could.

If the Bone of the Heavens were always available, if he could control the surrounding environment at any moment without cost, wouldn’t he be nearly invincible?

He would no longer need to worry about his growth.

Kyrian quickly calculated the remaining distance.

At his normal speed, without using movement techniques, without forcing his body, simply walking, it would take about two days to return to Red Smoke City.

If he were fully recovered, he could reach the city within a few hours if he traveled directly.

But now was not the time to rush things.

He continued descending.

Hour after hour.

Step after step.

Throughout the entire day.

The slopes gradually became less steep as he moved farther away from the crater. The ground became more stable, with fewer cracks, fewer fissures, and less steam rising from the earth.

The amount of smoke diminished, still present, still enough to paint the sky red, but no longer suffocating.

And when night finally arrived, or what Kyrian assumed was night based on the fading light, he found a relatively sheltered area among several black rocks and decided to rest.

He sat down.

The stone was warm, but not uncomfortable.

He took another recovery pill from his spatial ring.

He observed it for a few seconds.

A simple Rank 4 pill, one that he himself had refined in the Bloody Court months ago.

He swallowed it.

Immediately, he felt the medicinal energy spread through his body.

The pleasant warmth traveled through his meridians like flowing water, filling empty spaces and lubricating exhausted channels.

The remaining aches diminished.

His muscles relaxed.

His breathing became deeper.

Kyrian then assumed a meditation posture.

And slowly began circulating the medicinal energy.

...

Meanwhile...

His mind was working.

The twelve combat techniques.

Everything reappeared in his memory.

Perfectly and completely.

Every symbol. Every diagram. Every explanation.

Kyrian began analyzing them again.

But this time he was not trying to learn them.

He had already learned them.

What he wanted was something different.

To create.

The combat techniques were good.

Very good.

Some possessed extremely powerful attacks, capable of injuring even cultivators from higher realms.

Others allowed rapid movement, evasions that confused opponents, and bursts of speed that covered dozens of meters in the blink of an eye.

Some were defensive, Qi barriers capable of resisting violent attacks.

Others focused on explosive power, concentrating all of the cultivator’s Qi into a single devastating strike.

But they all shared one problem.

They depended on a specific type of Qi.

Fire Qi.

Every technique was designed to function with fire, and only fire.

The Qi flows described in the diagrams assumed that the energy being channeled was fiery, hot, violent, and alive.

If a cultivator attempted to use the same technique with Ice Qi...

The flow would not work.

The meridians would not respond.

The technique would fail.

’None of them truly suit me.’ Kyrian thought.

Because he was not like other cultivators.

His Qi changed.

His paths changed.

His eyes changed.

A technique created for fire could become useless when he was using lightning.

A technique created for ice could lose efficiency when he was using blood.

That was unacceptable.

’I need to create my own techniques.’ Kyrian thought.

’Just as I am going to create my own cultivation technique.’

His mind then focused on a specific direction.

Movement.

That was what he needed most.

Recent events had made that painfully clear.

His eyes were absurdly powerful.

They could see movements that others could not.

Predict attack trajectories.

Analyze defensive angles.

Find weaknesses in formations and techniques.

But all of that had a limit.

His body.

What was the point of perceiving an attack if he could not dodge it?

What was the point of seeing an opening if he could not reach it?

The battle against the four leaders had demonstrated this clearly.

Many times, his eyes had perceived the attacks.

They saw the old man’s spear approaching.

They saw the second leader’s axe descending.

They saw the sword and saber coming from both sides.

But his body simply could not keep up.

His muscles did not respond quickly enough.

His reflexes were not sharp enough.

That was why he had been injured.

Kyrian began organizing his thoughts.

A movement technique based solely on fire would be fast.

Very fast.

Fire was explosive, violent, and impulsive.

A fire technique could launch his body forward with absurd force.

But it would be limited.

A technique based solely on wind would be as well.

Wind was fluid, continuous, and adaptable.

A wind technique could allow elegant evasions and smooth movement.

But it too would be limited.

The same applied to lightning.

Pure speed, but difficult to control.

No.

He needed something different.

A technique that utilized universal principles.

Something capable of functioning regardless of the type of Qi he was using.

Something that could adapt to his eyes.

Something that would grow alongside him.

"But how?"