Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Arcon began to descend.

His wings adjusted, no longer beating to gain altitude but gliding in wide circles.

And with every passing second, new details emerged.

First came the rivers. Great rivers.

Crystal-clear water flowed between natural valleys formed by the creature’s shell, valleys that seemed to have been carved by millennia of erosion but were actually part of the beast’s body.

Then came lakes, some small, others enormous, reflecting the sky like mirrors.

Waterfalls cascaded from higher levels of the shell to lower ones, creating rainbows in the air.

Mountains. Real mountains.

Kyrian spent several seconds observing one of them, covered in snow at the summit, forests along its slopes, and a crystal-clear lake at its base.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM..."

The deep sound echoed again. This time lower. Closer.

Kyrian had the strange sensation that it was like the breathing of the gigantic creature.

A breath so powerful that it made the air vibrate.

A breath so slow that each cycle took minutes.

Soon after...

The city finally appeared before them.

And for the first time, Kyrian understood why he had mistaken it for a nation.

Because that was exactly what it looked like.

Colossal walls rose before him, so tall they seemed to touch the clouds. Made of black, gleaming stone, they were covered in faintly glowing runes.

Black towers pierced the heavens, some straight, others curved, all imposing.

Massive banners fluttered in the wind, not the banners of any known sect, but bearing a symbol Kyrian did not recognize.

Wide roads connected different regions of the city, some paved with stone, others made from materials Kyrian could not identify.

Thousands of structures stretched across miles.

Markets, covered, open-air, and underground.

Residences range from small wooden houses to enormous stone mansions.

Temples, with statues of deities Kyrian did not know, incense burning continuously.

Pavilions where cultivators gathered to train or converse.

Everything was organized in an impressive manner.

At the center of it all stood a single immense tower rising high into the sky, taller than all the others, wider, more imposing.

It was the largest structure in the city.

It looked like an imperial capital.

Except it had been built on the back of an ancient monster.

Arcon continued descending.

Until they finally reached the main entrance. And that was when Kyrian noticed something else.

The line.

It was gigantic. Hundreds of people were waiting.

Cultivators of different levels, from Qi Release to Spiritual Awakening.

Merchants pulling floating carts. Alchemists carrying the scent of herbs. Blacksmiths with their hammers.

Flying beasts landed continuously, some small, others enormous.

New travelers arrived every moment from the forests, the mountains, and the skies.

Kyrian began to hear murmurs from some of the older people present.

"HAHAHA! I can’t believe I managed to find the Sky Caravan in my lifetime!"

The voice belonged to an elderly man with a white beard and shining eyes.

"I thought it was a legend. A story. Something the elders used to tell."

"But it exists! It truly exists!"

Another elder nodded.

"I did too. They say the Sky Caravan last appeared in the Northern Territory more than four hundred years ago."

His eyes drifted into the distance.

"My grandfather used to tell me stories about it. He saw it himself when he was young."

"He said it was the most impressive thing he had ever witnessed in his entire life."

"Now I understand what he meant."

Kyrian listened to the rumors, absorbing every word, every fragment of information.

Sky Caravan.

Appeared four hundred years ago.

Considered a legend by many. Yet real.

He tried to better understand where he was about to enter. Then he noticed something impressive.

The guards.

Kyrian’s eyes, the violet eyes of lightning, quickly analyzed their strength.

His expression turned serious.

All of them were in the Spiritual Awakening Realm.

And in its later stages.

Seventh. Eighth. Ninth. All of them. Without exception.

And they clearly were not elders. They were not leaders. They were not important specialists.

They were merely gate guards. Ordinary guards.

That alone already said a great deal about the level of this place.

Arcon landed near the queue. Kyrian dismounted.

Immediately, several people looked at the black mount, their eyes traveling across its wings, muscular body, and red eyes.

But only out of curiosity. No one seemed particularly impressed.

In normal cities, such as Red Smoke City, Arcon would attract some attention. Perhaps comments. Perhaps envious glances.

Here?

He seemed like just another mount.

Kyrian entered the line. And waited.

Meanwhile, he observed everything around him.

Runes were engraved everywhere.

On the walls, large and complex, glowing with an inner light.

On the ground, small and discreet, forming patterns that stretched for dozens of meters.

On the pillars, ancient, worn, yet still active.

Extremely complex formations.

Far beyond those he usually encountered and assembled.

In addition...

A kind of translucent barrier covered the entire entrance.

It seemed to separate two different worlds.

Inside the city. Outside, the rest of the world.

The minutes passed. Slowly.

The line moved, not quickly, but not frozen either.

One step. Then another. Then another.

Until finally it was his turn.

Behind a polished black jade desk with golden edges sat a robust man wearing dark blue armor.

His face was marked by a scar crossing his left cheek, a reminder of some past battle.

His cultivation was firmly in the Spiritual Awakening Realm.

Kyrian could feel it. He did not need special eyes to perceive it.

The pressure emanating from the man was enough.

The man made a small gesture, a quick movement of his hand.

"Five hundred medium-grade spirit stones."

Kyrian remained silent for a moment.

Expensive. Very expensive.

An amount that would ruin ordinary cultivators, who could barely accumulate a few hundred low-grade spirit stones over years of work.

A fortune.

But looking around...

No one complained.

Everyone simply paid.

As if it were normal.

As if five hundred medium-grade spirit stones were a reasonable price to enter a city.

Kyrian said nothing. He took a pouch from his spatial ring and handed it over.

The guard checked it quickly, his eyes scanning the contents, counting mentally.

Then he nodded.

"You may enter."

Kyrian walked toward the barrier.

The translucent surface shimmered before him like a curtain of water, or a wall of glass.

He extended a hand. Touched it.

The instant his body passed through the translucent surface...

A strange sensation ran down his spine.

As if something was observing his entire body. Examining every inch. Analyzing every meridian.

And then, suddenly...

A mark appeared on his left hand.

Kyrian looked down.

It read.

"Visitor."

Not written in ink. Not written in blood.

It was a formation, tiny and complex, engraved directly into his skin.

He remained still for a few seconds, observing the mark.

’An identification mark,’ he thought.

’To control who enters and leaves the city.’

Then he continued walking.

And then...

He finally entered.

On the other side of the barrier, the true city revealed itself.

Wide streets, so broad that six carriages could pass side by side, stretched in every direction.

Crowded markets, wooden stalls, fabric tents, and stone shops sold everything imaginable.

Thousands of cultivators walked through the streets, some hurried, others calm, all full of life.

Lights shone everywhere, spirit lanterns, luminous formations, and glowing crystals.

Magnificent pavilions, some with golden roofs, others with suspended gardens, rose at strategic points.

Towers stretched toward the heavens.

The sounds of conversations, negotiations, arguments, and laughter filled the air.

The sound of music drifted from somewhere in the distance, melodic and gentle.

The sound of life.

It was an incredibly vibrant city.

A living city built upon the back of a colossal creature flying through the skies.

For the first time since leaving the Cloud Empire months ago, after the grand auction, after the Cloud Coliseum, Kyrian felt that he had arrived somewhere truly extraordinary.

He stopped for a moment.

Simply observing.

The crowd flowed around him, ignoring him, occupied with their own affairs.

And Kyrian smiled.

A small smile.

But a genuine one.

He felt that he could find interesting things in this place.

’Definitely an interesting place.’