Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 370 - 371

The eldest leader slowly lowered himself to crouch beside the massive paw.

His gaze meticulously scrutinized every detail of the severed limb: the texture of its scales, the exposed bone, and the remnants of ice still clinging to the flesh.

He then delicately touched one of the cracks marring the scales.

In the very next instant, a surge of spiritual energy flashed through his eyes.

"Ice Qi."

The others promptly drew nearer, extending their own senses to feel what the old man had detected.

Even though the ice had completely melted days ago, traces of the very energy that had forged it still lingered. It was embedded within the beast’s flesh like a venomous, persistent poison.

A frigid and profound energy permeated the paw.

"An exceptionally potent ice technique... Observe how the ice permeated the scales? It wasn't merely a superficial layer. It shattered the internal structure of the limb even before it began to freeze."

Another leader furrowed his brow deeply, his eyes sweeping across the surrounding landscape as if seeking answers concealed within the encroaching shadows.

"Just who in the blazes did this?"

His countenance darkened, a complex mixture of frustration and a far more primal, wounded avarice washing over him.

"They pilfered our prey."

The covetousness in his tone was utterly undisguised. The Five-Horned Lava Lizard was a veritable treasure trove, its scales, bones, blood, and beast core – every single part was worth a king's ransom. And yet, someone had claimed it before their arrival.

The eldest leader remained silent, his keen eyes continuing to survey the terrain, analyzing every minute detail.

"The confrontation occurred several days ago... Judging by the condition of the residual ice and the amount of ash that has settled upon these ruins, I estimate it happened between five and six days past."

"Whoever accomplished this is likely long gone." He paused, lost in thought.

"But..." another leader narrowed his eyes, his brow creased in confusion.

"Who, in this entire region, besides ourselves, would possess the sheer might to confront a Five-Horned Lava Lizard single-handedly?"

The question hung heavy in the air, unanswered.

The four leaders constituted the sole existences within the Spiritual Awakening Realm across the entirety of the Red Smoke City territory. Any individual capable of challenging a beast of such magnitude should, by all accounts, have been known to them.

Silence descended.

No one offered a reply.

Then, the eldest leader once more seemed to perceive something. His spiritual senses detected a faint, subtle vibration emanating from a specific direction.

His head snapped around sharply.

The other three immediately followed suit, their own senses extending in that precise direction.

Although they were unable to see clearly from such a distance due to the obscuring volcanic smoke and the ash blanketing the sky, all of them could sense a presence.

A presence, standing still in that direction. Utterly motionless. Watching.

And that presence... felt weak in comparison to their own. Merely at the First Stage of the Core Formation Realm. Theoretically insignificant.

"Let's go." The old man declared with a calm demeanor.

Instantly, the four leaders surged forward.

Trailing behind them, hundreds of cultivators swiftly followed, their weapons at the ready, their senses on high alert.

...

At the mouth of a small cave, concealed amidst the jagged volcanic rocks...

Kyrian stood in silent, unmoving contemplation.

His eyes calmly observed the approaching group in the distance, drawing ever closer. Hundreds of silhouettes emerged from the smoke like spectral apparitions. He had no need for spiritual senses to perceive them; his own eyes were more than sufficient.

He had already registered the probing spiritual senses of the four leaders sweeping over his person several minutes prior, when they were still kilometers away.

And he had also grasped one undeniable truth.

Attempting to flee without being detected was utterly futile.

Not when facing four cultivators of the Spiritual Awakening Realm simultaneously. They would meticulously cover every possible direction, their senses extending over an immense area. Kyrian might possess speed, but he was not faster than those four.

Therefore, Kyrian simply waited.

The hot, dry wind whipped against his partially scorched clothing as he remained immobile before the cave's entrance. His expression was one of utter neutrality, his blue eyes fixated on the distant horizon.

Not long after...

The silhouettes finally materialized from the volcanic haze, reaching a distance where ordinary individuals could begin to discern distinct shapes.

The four leaders emerged first, their imposing figures breaking through the clouds of ash.

Behind them trailed hundreds of cultivators and elders, advancing in a disciplined formation.

The very instant the group laid eyes upon Kyrian...

A multitude of expressions shifted and changed.

Some disciples furrowed their brows in sheer bewilderment. Why was a lone young man standing there, before a cave, clad in burnt attire?

One individual in particular.

Pan Zheng.

His eyes widened instantly. His heart seemed to cease beating for a second, or at least, that's how it felt.

"Kyrian...?"

His voice emerged as little more than an incredulous whisper, so faint that only those in his immediate vicinity could possibly hear.

He had been absolutely convinced that Kyrian had met his demise.

No. He had believed, with a deep and agonizing certainty, that the young man had made the ultimate sacrifice, delaying the monstrous lizard while everyone else fled in desperate haste.

He had replayed that moment countless times in his imagination. The solitary figure of Kyrian, confronting a peril that should have been insurmountable.

But now, the impossible had happened.

Kyrian stood before them, breathing and whole.

Though portions of his robes were scorched and torn, and faint burns marked his arms, he appeared remarkably unscathed.

His gaze was sharp and unwavering.

His stance remained resolute.

Pan Zheng’s heart hammered against his ribs, a tempest of shock, profound relief, and utter disbelief surging within him.

’He lived.’

’But how?’

Concurrently, the four formidable leaders meticulously assessed Kyrian.

First stage of the Core Formation Realm. Two of the leaders noted his youth, a mere sixteen or seventeen years of age.

An immediate sense of anomaly emanated from him, registered by all four.

Two of them knitted their brows, detecting the peculiar paradox of Kyrian being both mortal and possessing a cultivated Qi.

It was indeed peculiar.

Exceedingly peculiar.

Evidently, the concept of Innate Talents was alien to them.

Crucially, not a single one entertained the notion that Kyrian had engaged the formidable lizard.

To their perception, as cultivators in the Spiritual Awakening stage, the gulf between the First Stage and the Peak of Core Formation was as vast as an abyss. Moreover, the beast, endowed with its draconic bloodline, surpassed ordinary humans at the same cultivation level.

A mere boy at the first stage pitted against a peak-stage beast? Preposterous!

Nevertheless, his mere presence held undeniable utility.

One of the leaders advanced, his aura intensifying subtly, suffusing the surrounding atmosphere.