Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 308: Silent King (4)

With a light, silent leap, Kyrian ascended back to the high branch of the Ancestral Tree, as though he had never left. He settled down once more, legs dangling lazily in the void, while a soft breeze ruffled his dark hair. His face stayed serene, nearly indifferent, treating the savage slaughter unfolding scores of meters beneath as mere ambient sound.

On the Central Plateau outside, the crowd's fervor crashed like ice water dousing raging flames.

The wild excitement that surged when Kyrian dropped down vanished in a flash. Thousands of cultivators, who moments before had leaped up yelling and roaring, slumped back into their seats, faces twisted in frustration and letdown.

"Heh... I figured we'd finally witness him in action, but he just popped down to chat with pals and returned to his statue pose." A young disciple from a minor domain muttered, arms folded in clear disappointment.

"That’s true." His companion nearby nodded in agreement.

"Looks like he has zero interest in joining the fights. Given his power, nothing here should scare him. Must mean he's not chasing more points now—he figures top spot is locked in."

Discouraged murmurs rippled across the stands. For weeks, they'd watched Kyrian relentlessly slay wooden beasts, racking up points at a ridiculous pace. Yet the real craving was witnessing the Verdant Sword Sect's monster clash against fellow human prodigies—his blade slicing true cultivators, not mere fabricated monsters.

"He dropped just to shield his buddies... then reclaimed his throne." A female cultivator whispered, shaking her head sadly.

"What a waste."

"Perhaps the next phase will show him battling seriously." Another offered, attempting self-consolation.

"This remains only the initial stage. True thrills await later."

Disappointment spread everywhere. Holographic displays kept zooming on Kyrian, now with a near-ludicrous vibe: the youth atop the tree kicked his legs like at a casual outing, amid the inferno raging below.

Up in the VIP areas, sect leaders chimed in too.

"Is he truly sitting this out?" The Flaming Sword Leader inquired, sounding almost let down.

"I was eager to see him handle my disciples."

The Ancient Forest Leader let out a quiet chuckle.

"He's accomplished plenty already. Hunted sufficient to claim the lead."

Feng Yuan and Mei Ran observed quietly. A faint smile played on Mei Ran's mouth.

"He's always operated this way. Moves only when he deems it essential."

Back within the Pocket Realm, mere five minutes after Kyrian resumed his perch atop the tree for vigilance, the frenzy reignited fiercer than before.

Disciples scraping by with scant points streamed in from every side. They made soft prey yet prowled as ravenous predators. Without enough points, advancing to the Gathering's next round hung in peril. Thus, myriad skirmishes erupted simultaneously—folks preying on one another for scores, while others lurked in tree shadows, poised to strike the battered survivors of clashes.

Everyone amid the fray juggled their own duels alongside scanning the environs. Treacheries struck every instant. Pacts shattered faster than a heartbeat.

Kyrian shed his total ennui. His eyes, sharp as blades, tracked the five skirmishes of his allies all at once. He scrutinized each motion, each foe's scheme, primed to intervene if any threat to Mo Tianhai, Mo Xia, Long Xue, Shen Yu, or Wu Jian slipped past their notice.

Mo Tianhai's bouts wrapped up swiftly. Though his cultivation wasn't peak, his sword intent burned pure and devastating. A handful of savage strikes sufficed to dispatch low-point foes. Currently, he clashed with an 800-point rival, grinning amid thunderous exchanges, his blade whistling through air with restrained rage.

Mo Xia battled with icy precision, leveraging speed to evade and riposte. Shen Yu and Wu Jian stood firm too, showcasing their distinct approaches.

Yet Long Xue drew Kyrian's sharpest gaze.

She dueled a formidable foe—a youth wielding fiery fist arts, holding 900 points. He'd singled her out, forcing her into a grueling struggle. Her guards buckled under relentless assault, flames scorching her garb and flesh in spots. Still, she pressed on with fierce resolve and grit. Gone was the shy, memory-lost girl; now stood a self-assured, standalone cultivator.

She possessed unwavering, one-sided faith in Kyrian. Since he promised to safeguard them, she felt assured she could unleash her full power without excessive concern.

Yet abruptly, an unexpected event unfolded.

Long Xue concentrated entirely on her foe, oblivious to the environment. Out of nowhere, two figures leaped from the darkness, striking at her simultaneously—one from the left, the other from the rear.

Her adversary already required her complete focus due to his strength. With these two extra attackers, she knew doom was inevitable.

In the final instant, she unleashed her entire cultivation to form a Qi barrier for defense and shut her eyes, bracing for the deadly blow.

Yet no blow arrived.

Upon reopening her eyes, an astonishing sight greeted her.

The pair that had ambushed her lay sprawled on the ground, spewing blood. Right where their leaves rested on their chests, a neat, profound gash appeared. Their garments and flesh bore identical wounds. Moments later, they vanished, teleported from the Pocket Realm and thus eliminated.

Confusion briefly gripped Long Xue. Her foe, too, scanned the area in sheer horror. He had no clue who aided the girl. His allies, rushing to aid him, got wiped out without him even noticing the manner of their defeat.

Terror-stricken, he searched frantically for the unseen assailant, but discovered nobody.

At that moment, Long Xue grinned and lifted her sword once more against her enemy. The battle, previously grueling, grew simpler as he divided his focus, hunting for Long Xue’s hidden supporter. Finding none, a split-second lapse allowed Long Xue to slash his leaf precisely, fully ousting him. His form faded away while she drew a deep, relieved breath, a thankful smile lighting her features.

Her eyes then turned upward to the ancient tree’s peak with true appreciation. They locked onto Kyrian’s gaze as she whispered gently.

"Thank you!"

From his vantage above, Kyrian caught her words and responded with a subtle nod.

At the same time, his points on his chest climbed to 4.650.

Earlier, spotting those two nearing Long Xue, he realized intervention was essential. The instant they sought to remove her, he struck. A mere look unleashed an unseen sword intent slash from thin air, dispatching both before they comprehended the attack.

Kyrian resumed his serene watch.