Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 321: The Final Battle

The grand ancestral tree appeared to hold its breath in sync with the spectators.

Sunlight blazed at its peak, cascading golden rays across the Central Plateau. Overcrowded floating platforms seemed poised to crumble any second. Thousands of gazes locked onto the living wooden arena, where two young warriors stood opposite each other.

Kyrian of the Verdant Sword. Huo Ling of the Flaming Sword.

The championship match of the Gathering of Domains.

The Ancient Forest Sect Leader stepped between the pair. His gaze scanned both fighters, assessing and weighing them. Then he lifted his hand.

"Final of the Gathering of Domains. Kyrian versus Huo Ling. Rules stay the same. Winner forces the opponent out of the arena or leaves them unable to fight."

He paused briefly.

"Begin!"

The crowd held its collective breath.

Kyrian remained still. His sword eyes gleamed brightly.

The initial slash arrived unseen, swift, and lethal. A blade forged from pure Qi and sword intent tore through the air aimed at Huo Ling.

Huo Ling sensed it prior to spotting it.

As a fellow sword cultivator, his sensitivity to sword intent was keen. The approaching blade felt like a slicing gale. His own sword intent erupted outward, and he swung his flaming sword with exact precision.

"Flaming Sword Technique. Ember Shield!"

A swirling barrier of fire sprang up in front of him. Kyrian’s hidden strike crashed into it, both vanishing in a burst of sparks and razor winds.

Murmurs rippled through the audience.

"He blocked it!"

"Huo Ling detected the assault!"

"Naturally! He wields the sword too!"

No trace of shock crossed Kyrian’s face. His eyes flashed once more. The next slash struck harder than before.

Huo Ling clenched his jaw. Passive defense wouldn’t suffice. His sword carved a circle through the air, wrapping his form in fiery armor. Intense flames roared at scorching heat, warping the surrounding air.

"Firebird Armor!"

The second slash hammered the armor. Huo Ling staggered back a step, yet the protection endured. Flames wavered briefly before steadying.

The third slash followed instantly, fiercer still.

This blow almost cracked Huo Ling’s armor. He skidded three steps across the wooden arena, carving furrows with his feet. A shallow gash on his shoulder oozed blood—the armor hadn’t fully stopped it.

Yet he stayed on his feet.

Kyrian nodded to himself. A spark of admiration stirred within him. Huo Ling was a genuine swordsman, treading the identical path. Not merely a fighter, but one wholly devoted to the sword.

To pay proper respect, Kyrian reached for his spatial ring.

His sword materialized in his grasp.

As his hand closed on the hilt, the air shifted dramatically. Sword intent poured from Kyrian so thickly that nearby spectators shivered with cold dread.

Huo Ling’s chest tightened.

He recalled Kyrian’s feat against Mu Qing. A single blow had demolished the living wood barrier that survived three prior strikes. Now Kyrian unsheathed against him.

Nerves and strain gripped Huo Ling. Waiting for that attack spelled doom—he stood no chance.

"I’ll strike first," Huo Ling resolved.

He stomped hard on the arena floor. Flames from his movement scorched the wood, boosting his velocity. He charged like a shooting star, sword already swinging.

"Flaming Sword Technique. Fire Blade Strike!"

Huo Ling’s blade erupted in massive flames, blindingly radiant. The blow plunged toward Kyrian like a fiery wing.

Kyrian lifted his sword to parry.

'Clang!'

The sharp clang resounded over the plateau. Crimson and emerald sparks erupted everywhere.

Huo Ling pressed on relentlessly. Blow after blow, he whirled like a blaze storm. His sword hacked, stabbed, and twirled. Each attack accelerated.

Kyrian parried. Then riposted.

Swords clashed once, twice, ten, twenty times. The speed dizzied onlookers who struggled to track it.

One fact emerged swiftly. Huo Ling bore wounds already.

A slim cut on his right arm. One on his thigh. Another on his left shoulder where armor faltered. Crimson stained his red robe from each.

Kyrian remained untouched.

With every assault from Huo Ling, Kyrian blocked, slipping in a sly counter-slash at the clash’s peak—one Huo Ling couldn’t wholly deflect. Not mighty blows, but pinpoint accurate. They added up.

The harsh reality dawned on Huo Ling deep inside.

Strength alone didn’t explain it. Kyrian possessed far greater power, several times over. Yet that wasn’t the full story. His battle experience towered above all. The fluid grace of his steps, his foresight in dodging strikes, his knack for exploiting the tiniest gaps... it felt like he’d survived a thousand fierce clashes already.

Huo Ling held no advantage over him in any way.

He leaped backward, forcing space between them. His chest heaved with frantic breaths. Gasping and spent, injuries marred his form.

Yet his gaze blazed with unyielding fire.

"If I’m going to lose," Huo Ling declared, voice rough and strained.

"I’ll lose with everything I have."

He hoisted his sword high overhead. Every last drop of Qi within him surged into the weapon. Crimson flames roared, scorching hot enough to blacken the arena’s wooden planks at his feet.

"Supreme Flaming Sword Technique. Celestial Bird!"

Darkness cloaked the heavens in a heartbeat. No clouds gathered; rather, all light bent toward Huo Ling’s blade.

Suddenly, the bird took form.

This was no mere fledgling from earlier. It loomed colossal, rivaling the arena’s full expanse. Blazing wings of red fire stretched out immensely, unleashing heat so ferocious that crowds in the closest seats recoiled instinctively.

The bird hurtled straight for Kyrian.