Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 354: Great Volcano (6)

With every action Kyrian took, the group's admiration deepened.

Although no one dared to speak their thoughts aloud, especially before the elder who already displayed envy towards the attention Kyrian garnered, their glances conveyed everything. The disciples exchanged knowing looks, subtle nods, and discreet smiles amongst themselves.

'If Kyrian were in charge, perhaps this would be much simpler.'

The elder, meanwhile, continued his full-strength assault against the more formidable beasts. A Magmatic Stone Golem, standing nearly five meters tall, necessitated almost ten minutes of fierce engagement from him, unleashing blows that shook the very ground and fiery techniques that exploded against the creature's stony exterior.

Upon its conclusion, he was left panting.

He endeavored to conceal his exhaustion, straightening his posture and adopting an indifferent facade. Yet, Kyrian observed the heavy respiration, the perspiration coursing down his neck, and the faint trembling in his hands.

The elder was not without strength. However, he had reached his absolute limit.

...

By the close of the day, following innumerable skirmishes, the party had uncovered no trace of an ancient structure.

No tombs were found. No inscriptions deciphered. No artifacts unearthed. Only beasts, predatory fiery flora, natural hazards, and a suffocating heat that offered no reprieve.

Had it not been for Kyrian's unwavering protection—the chilling mist that countered the intense heat, the barriers that deflected sudden assaults, and the timely interventions that saved lives—several disciples would have surely perished.

The sun had long since descended below the horizon.

The Great Volcano, however, did not plunge into complete darkness. The crimson luminescence of lava streams meandering through distant chasms, coupled with the radiant glow from the perpetually falling hot ash, bathed everything in an infernal twilight, akin to the perpetual dusk of a world consumed by fire.

The elder commanded a halt.

"Rest for two hours. Replenish your Qi. Then, we shall press onward."

The cultivators complied. They settled into a circle upon relatively stable terrain, consuming restorative pills and entering meditative states. Even under the veil of night, the heat remained oppressive.

The elder maintained a stoic expression, his lips forming a tight line. Frustration was evident in his demeanor due to the lack of progress.

Kyrian positioned himself slightly apart from the main group.

He simply closed his eyes for a few moments.

Pan Zheng approached once more.

"Kyrian." He spoke in a low tone, settling down beside the young man with the icy gaze.

"Exercise caution tonight. During the darkness, the lesser beasts retreat underground. But as night falls, they emerge to hunt. These are nocturnal beasts."

He glanced around furtively, as if fearing being overheard.

"They possess fiery energy, similar to the others, yet they are distinct. Silent. Nearly invisible. They typically approach gradually, almost imperceptibly, and strike with a concentrated burst of fire at close range." His voice lowered further.

"By the time you perceive the flame, it is usually far too late."

Kyrian inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"I understand."

He refrained from mentioning his own observations.

Eight shadowy presences circled the group at a discreet distance, concealed behind rocky outcrops and within the earth's fissures. These were the nocturnal beasts, swift, silent, and unnervingly patient. They awaited the opportune moment to launch their assault.

The most powerful among them resided in the Core Formation Realm. Judging by the subtle tremors of its Qi, Kyrian estimated its power to be nearly on par with the elder's.

Kyrian issued no warning to anyone.

Fear would only serve as a detriment to combat. Furthermore, his patience was wearing thin. He desired to reach the Inner Area without further delay. He had no inclination to squander precious time on nocturnal predators that could be eliminated discreetly.

Unbeknownst to anyone, drifting above their heads, eight slender lances of ice materialized within the dense obscurity.

They were minuscule, no thicker than Kyrian's smallest finger, yet possessed a sharpness comparable to needles forged from spiritual iron. Their surfaces emitted a faint luminescence, subtly reflecting the distant, sanguine glow of the lava. Each projectile was imbued with pure intent and a concentration of Qi potent enough to cleave through steel.

The spears launched in unison, traversing the air like spectral phantoms. There was no audible hiss, no visible flash – only the swift, deadly trajectory of eight icy missiles hurtling towards eight unseen targets.

Concealed behind the rocks and within the crevasses, the nocturnal beasts met their end before they could even register the attack.

Sharp, piercing cries ripped through the night, brief and abruptly silenced. The dull thuds of bodies impacting stone, followed by the faint sounds of limbs spasming in the throes of death, echoed momentarily.

The entire assembly sprang to a state of high alert.

Weapons were drawn. Fiery Qi surged into fists and blades. Pan Zheng and the elder scanned their surroundings, their senses strained to the utmost, their expressions taut with anticipation.

Yet, nothing emerged from the shadows. No foe materialized. No attack materialized. Only the cries, and then, an all-encompassing silence.

"... What was that?" a disciple whispered, his voice laced with trepidation.

"Perhaps beasts fighting amongst themselves," another suggested, his tone betraying his attempt to rationalize the event.

"Their aggression intensifies under the cover of night."

Pan Zheng remained silent. His gaze shifted towards Kyrian.

Kyrian continued to sit, his expression impassive, his snowflake-shaped eyes fixated on the dark, distant horizon. His shoulders showed no tension. His breathing remained perfectly steady. He appeared as placid as one might be while enjoying an afternoon in a tranquil garden.

The elder's gaze also settled on Kyrian, his eyes narrowing slightly, though no accusation was made. What could possibly be said?

"You slew beasts unseen by others?" That would certainly sound like sheer lunacy.

"Continue your rest," the elder commanded after a prolonged silence had settled over them.

The group complied, though a subtle unease now accompanied their efforts to relax.

...

The night wore on interminably.

Visibility remained abysmal, with the thick ash raining down from the heavens reducing sight to a mere twenty meters. Yet, Kyrian forged ahead with an unwavering confidence, his icy gaze slicing through the oppressive darkness and swirling smoke as if they were nothing more than transparent glass.

Remarkably, no further beasts were encountered for the remainder of the night.

What should have been the most perilous hours, when nocturnal predators typically roamed and hunted with fierce abandon, transformed into a period of almost unsettling tranquility.

The disciples proceeded in silence, each engrossed in their private contemplations. A few exchanged hushed whispers, finding the situation increasingly peculiar.

"Perhaps our luck has turned today..."

"I've never known the Intermediate Area to be this deathly quiet at night."

"It's strange... exceedingly strange."

Pan Zheng overheard these comments but offered no input. His gaze lingered on Kyrian with a mounting suspicion, a notion beginning to crystallize in his mind. Still, he kept his counsel. He possessed no concrete proof. And even if he did, he was uncertain if he truly wished to voice any accusation.

The night continued its slow passage, a tapestry woven from falling ash, oppressive heat, and a palpable, tense silence.

...

As the first hints of dawn began to streak the sky with a muted crimson – not the vibrant blue of a typical sunrise, but a diffused, ominous orange glow seeping through the lingering smoke – the group had achieved significant progress.

Despite this, no substantial discoveries had been made.

Kyrian moved forward in quiet contemplation, his thoughts remarkably serene.

'They will persist in exploring only the Intermediate Area,' he mused.

'They will not dare venture into the Inner Zone so soon. The elder is overly cautious, and the disciples are clearly apprehensive.'

An intuition told him that nothing of true significance would be unearthed here. The beasts, the treacherous traps, the searing heat – all of it was merely superficial.

The genuine inheritance, assuming it even existed, would undoubtedly lie deeper. Closer to the very heart of the volcano.

He made his decision.

'After a few more hours, should circumstances remain unchanged, I will part ways with the group.'

Pan Zheng and the others were good individuals, and the young man in the scarlet robe was particularly commendable. However, Kyrian found the prospect of a protracted, slow-paced exploration unappealing.

Kyrian had not journeyed to the Great Volcano with the intention of aimlessly wandering the Intermediate Zone. He was drawn by a sense of intrigue, a flicker of curiosity regarding Ming Hai, and now, a burgeoning interest in a potential spirit residing within this place.

If something of consequence was indeed present, Kyrian felt a strong certainty that he would locate it.

Alone, if the need arose.

...

The exploration of the Intermediate Area persisted for several more hours. The very terrain grew increasingly precarious, characterized by vast fissures spewing acrid vapor and expanses of ground that seemed to throb with an internal life of their own. The group advanced with deliberate slowness, their spiritual energies becoming progressively depleted as they delved deeper and ascended the slopes of the Great Volcano.

Abruptly, Kyrian halted. His body froze completely, his crystalline eyes fixed intently on a point in the distance.

Everyone behind him immediately ceased their movement, perplexed by his sudden halt. Their movements were now largely dictated by his presence, due to his ice domain and the growing respect they held for him.

The elder, who had been positioned a few paces ahead, frowned and turned around, sensing the collective stop that had occurred without his directive.

"What is it?" he inquired, his tone laced with a discernible impatience.

Kyrian responded with directness, his gaze never leaving the distance.

"There are ten individuals ahead, approaching us at considerable speed. They appear to be fleeing from something."

"Distance?" Pan Zheng interjected quickly, stepping closer to Kyrian.

Kyrian answered without a moment's hesitation.

"Approximately eight minutes of travel at their current pace. They are clearly exhausted. Two of them seem to be injured."

Many were taken aback that Kyrian could perceive individuals so far away, through such a dense shroud of ash, yet no one voiced their surprise. They had already come to accept that Kyrian's eyes possessed extraordinary capabilities.

A low murmur rippled through the assembled group. The elder’s eyes narrowed, a clear sign of skepticism, but he did not dismiss Kyrian’s observation outright. Given all that he had witnessed Kyrian accomplish thus far, disregarding him would be an act of profound foolishness.

"Prepare yourselves," the elder commanded, drawing his sword.

"Adopt a defensive formation. If they are survivors from another group, they might possess valuable information. We shall await their arrival here."

Kyrian remained motionless, keenly observing the subtle tremors emanating from the distance. Whoever they were, they were running as if pursued by the very forces of hell. And something more potent gave chase, something of immense size, causing the ground to vibrate faintly at intermittent intervals.

Kyrian could not discern the exact nature of the entity pursuing these individuals. He surmised that whatever it was, it dwelled beneath the earth.

Whatever was coming, the tedium of the Intermediate Area seemed poised to conclude.