Previously on Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation...
Kyrian stands at the edge of a volcanic crater, observing the surging magma. He notes a pattern where the lava recedes, revealing a hidden barrier and a cave entrance. After testing the extreme heat with an ice platform that quickly evaporates, Kyrian deduces he has fifteen seconds to reach the entrance during its brief appearance. He dons five layers of condensed ice armor and jumps into the volcano. As the layers melt and his body endures the intense heat, Kyrian times his descent perfectly. Moments before hitting the lava, he uses his remaining Qi to create an ice spear, momentarily freezing the magma's surface. He strikes this frozen point, breaking through into the cave just as the lava wave closes.
A peculiar sensation washed over Kyrian, akin to plunging into frigid water after enduring an intense fire. One side offered scorching heat, while the other presented a still formidable, yet manageable, warmth.
In the next moment, Kyrian found himself within the concealed small cave, hidden behind the protective formation.
His body made violent contact with the stone floor. He tumbled multiple times, three, perhaps four, before finally coming to rest against a wall of obsidian-like rock.
Above, the fiery lava sealed the entrance once more.
The small icy patch he'd utilized as a buffer vanished in an instant, consumed by the sea of flames.
The spear of ice dissolved.
It all transpired in under two seconds.
Kyrian lay there for a few moments, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
The sound of his own labored breathing echoed off the cave walls, uneven, strained, but a testament to his survival.
The final remnants of ice encasing him slowly evaporated, transforming into a fine mist that ascended towards the cavernous ceiling.
His Qi was nearly depleted.
Kyrian reckoned that less than ten percent of his total energy remained.
But he had managed it.
Slowly, Kyrian pushed himself to his feet.
He examined his arms. His skin was flushed red, dotted with minor blisters in places, yet nothing appeared severe.
The heat within the small cave remained oppressive. Kyrian surmised the temperature mirrored the most intense zones of the Intermediate Area, hot enough to annihilate average cultivators, but tolerable for him.
Overhead, the lava churned violently, separated from the cave solely by the shimmering crimson barrier. He observed the magma bubble and surge, waves of molten rock crashing against the protection Ming Hai had established.
The formation effectively barred the magma’s entry.
Yet, it did not impede passage.
Kyrian had grasped this earlier. Even from a distance, his eyes could perceive aspects of the barrier’s construction. It was a singular-purpose formation, intended to conceal and safeguard the entrance, not to obstruct movement.
Kyrian then surveyed his surroundings.
The cave was compact.
Its dimensions were no more than ten meters in width and five meters in depth. The ceiling was low enough that, with a slight stretch, Kyrian’s fingertips could brush against the stone.
Deserted.
No coveted treasures littered the ground. No skeletal remains were present. No ancient inscriptions adorned the walls recounting Ming Hai’s saga.
The sole feature within this place...
An immense red stone gate was set into the inner wall of the volcano.
Kyrian advanced towards it.
The gate was imposing, standing at least three meters high and two meters wide, meticulously carved from a stone distinct from the common volcanic rock. Its texture was smoother, darker.
Faint runes pulsed with light across its surface.
Intricate runes.
Kyrian couldn’t decipher them, but he could feel the potent energy emanating from them. Even after centuries, without any sustenanc, they still throbbed with fiery Qi.
'Ming Hai's final resting place lies beyond this gate,' Kyrian mused.
He extended his hand.
And pushed.
Nothing occurred.
The gate remained utterly unyielding.
Kyrian exerted greater force, not just his physical strength but also channeling his Qi, infusing his arms with power.
The muscles in his arms strained. His hands pressed against the cool stone with all the might his cultivation cores could muster.
Still, no movement.
The gate stayed resolutely fixed, as if it had become one with the mountain.
Kyrian’s brow furrowed slightly.
He then stepped back.
"Should I attempt to breach it forcefully?" he inquired aloud, his tone calm, directed at no one in particular.
"Or is there an alternative path?"
Ice Qi began to circulate around his body once more, the meager remainder of his reserves. If he could completely freeze the gate and apply sufficient force, perhaps he could shatter it.
But before he could take action...
A small, orange flame materialized directly in front of the gate.
Silently. Suspended in mid-air.
Kyrian’s eyes immediately narrowed.
It was the same flame.
The one that had shadowed him since his time in the Intermediate Area. And now, it had arrived here.
Positioned between him and the gate.
Kyrian shifted back half a step, his gaze locked onto the flame. His stance subtly altered, not overtly aggressive, but poised for action. His relaxed demeanor masked an underlying readiness.
The flame shimmered softly.
Then, it spoke. Its voice was deep, ancient, carrying echoes from beyond the mortal realm, much like the sound of magma churning in the depths of the earth.
It did not sound human.
Yet, it conveyed no animosity.
"Child."
"Even with your utmost strength, you shall never succeed in opening this gate."
The flame drifted closer, approaching his face. Kyrian held his ground.
"You are far too weak."
"Not even cultivators in the Spiritual Awakening Realm, those significantly beyond your current level, could force this entrance asunder."
Kyrian did not offer an immediate response.
His eyes remained fixed on the ethereal flame.
He could discern it. A conscious entity resided within. True intelligence. It was neither a mere automated mechanism nor a fading wisp of Ming Hai’s will.
It pulsed with life.
’A Fire Spirit.’ Kyrian mused internally.
’Or its manifestation, at the very least.’
After a few moments passed, he calmly posed a question, his tone devoid of emotion.
"Then what?"
"What must I do to gain access?"
The flame wavered slightly, and its voice now echoed with a hint of sadness.
"That is beyond your capability."
"Regrettably, you lack the qualifications to inherit the legacy of the ancient Ming Hai."
Kyrian’s brow furrowed instantly.
He found those words deeply unsettling.
He disliked the absolute certainty in the flame’s declaration, as if it had already determined the outcome without any form of trial.
"How can you possibly know that without even assessing me?" he inquired, his voice chilled. While his outward demeanor remained unchanged, a steely edge had subtly entered his tone.
"Inform me of the requirements. Only then will we ascertain my qualifications."
The flame appeared to become somewhat agitated, its orange luminescence intensifying as it pulsed.
"You are an obstinate child."
"If I declare you unqualified, then you are."
"The path you tread is one of ice. I can sense it within your very essence. Your Qi, your eyes, your entire being radiates cold."
"Conversely, Ming Hai’s inheritance is intrinsically tied to fire."
The flame began to orbit Kyrian, its movements suggesting a meticulous examination.
"Even with your considerable talent—and you are exceptionally talented—you will never be able to unlock a gate that demands pure fire Qi and a potent fire intent for activation."
Kyrian remained stoic, his expression unreadable.
However, the flame’s final statement snagged his attention.
"Fire Qi."
Understanding dawned upon him.
The gate was not meant to be forced open through sheer power, especially not with ice manipulation.
It was a defense mechanism specifically engineered to react to its antithetical element.
Fire.
Kyrian completely disregarded the remainder of the flame’s pronouncements.
Without offering a response, he resumed his advance towards the gate.
The flame immediately intercepted him, barring his way. Its voice grew sharper, tinged with impatience.
"Child, are you incapable of hearing?"
"I have just explicitly stated that this gate will not yield to one who cultivates ice. It matters not how forcefully you push, or how desperately you wish—"
Suddenly, the flame fell silent.
It detected an intrinsic shift occurring around Kyrian.
The chilling aura emanating from his person, the perpetual cold the flame had sensed from their initial encounter, had vanished entirely.
It wasn't merely suppressed or diminished. It was... gone.
In its place...
A peculiar warmth began to emanate.
This warmth was distinct from the ferocious heat of a volcano or the aggressive intensity of fire beasts. It possessed a more subdued, controlled quality.
The orange flame swiftly maneuvered closer to Kyrian, its focus now locked onto his face.
And then, it witnessed the transformation.
Kyrian’s eyes had undergone a radical change.
The light blue hue, reminiscent of the boundless sky, had completely receded.
His irises were now a deep, ashen gray. The color of dust. The color of lingering smoke. The hue of the sky hovering above the volcanic peaks.
Within the center of each pupil, miniature flames swirled silently.
These were not ordinary orange or red flames.
They were a muted gray.
As if the fire had combusted with such profound intensity that even its very color had been irrevocably altered.
The Eyes of the Gray Flame.
Kyrian extended his hand.
Without a moment's hesitation, he made contact with the gate.
The instant his skin touched the surface, fire Qi surged forth from his eyes, channeling directly into the crimson runes etched into the stone. This was no common fire, but an extraordinary, pure flame.
And that was sufficient. The runes ignited with a blinding intensity.
One by one, they blazed scarlet.
A low groan emanated from the stone.
Then, the gate began to move ponderously.
It creaked open.
Behind Kyrian, the small orange flame remained utterly still.
It was frozen in disbelief.
Because it had been unequivocally certain. It had scrutinized Kyrian from the very first moment of their encounter. His Qi was ice. His eyes were ice. Every aspect of his being resonated with profound cold.
So then...
How was he channeling fire Qi?
And not only that, but an exceptionally pure manifestation of fire. A fire it could not comprehend. A fire that...
The flame’s gaze shifted from irritation, sorrow, and impatience.
Now, the Fire Spirit regarded him with burgeoning excitement and revitalized hope.
For the first time in countless centuries, the Fire Spirit harbored the conviction that the ancient Ming Hai might have finally discovered the successor he had long sought.
Kyrian did not delay.
He stepped through the aperture of the now-open gate.
Vanishing into the profound darkness that lay beyond.
