Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 376 - 377

The orange flame vanished silently behind Kyrian the instant he passed through the gate.

Kyrian paid it no mind, or perhaps he simply didn't care. His gaze was fixed on the path ahead; at that moment, nothing else held his attention.

Beyond the gate lay a staircase. It was long, dark, and descended into the depths.

The surrounding walls mirrored the gate's dark red stone, polished smooth by the passage of eons, and were adorned with runes that had all but faded due to centuries of neglect.

Small orange fire torches were affixed to the walls at intervals, casting a dim illumination down the descending corridor. Their light resembled dying embers more than vibrant flames.

Kyrian looked down. The staircase appeared unending, its steps vanishing into the darkness below as if the mountain itself were hollow.

Then, he began his descent.

...

His footsteps echoed relentlessly through the mountain's core.

Each step felt like a journey deeper into the heart of the Great Volcano.

The oppressive heat persisted, but its nature had shifted. Previously, it had been wild and destructive, a chaotic force of nature seeking to engulf everything.

Down here, within the seemingly endless staircase, the heat felt... contained. Subdued. As if the very essence of fire had been shaped and controlled in this place, transformed into something almost manageable.

Kyrian continued his silent descent.

Time stretched on, each moment passing with agonizing slowness.

One hour.

Two hours.

Three hours.

He could feel the immense weight of the mountain pressing down from above, an invisible force that seemed to compress his shoulders, his head, and his chest.

He sensed the magma circulating deep within the volcano, like colossal rivers flowing around this hidden sanctuary, their currents sending tremors through the solid rock.

Occasionally, the walls would shudder gently. Distant, deep roars would reverberate, the sounds of shifting earth, flowing lava, and the very breath of the volcano.

The Great Volcano was undeniably alive.

Finally...

After nearly three full hours of descending—three hours marked by measured footsteps, oppressive silence, and stifling heat—Kyrian glimpsed the end of the staircase.

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

He then stepped out of the corridor.

And halted abruptly.

The spectacle before him was monumental.

This was no mere room. It was not a chamber, nor a hall, nor anything Kyrian could have possibly envisioned.

It was, in essence, a colossal dome carved directly into the volcano's core.

Far above, hundreds of meters overhead, the lava churned violently behind a translucent, reddish barrier.

It resembled an ocean of fire suspended in the sky, its magma waves perpetually crashing against the containment formation, bathing the entire expanse in orange and red flashes that flickered like languid lightning.

Below... there was also lava.

Everywhere.

Kyrian stood upon a platform jutting from the dome's wall, a narrow ledge of dark red stone offering barely enough space for three individuals abreast. Extending before him was a slender bridge, so narrow that two people could not traverse it side-by-side, arching over the sea of magma.

This bridge led to an immense altar situated precisely at the chamber's center.

Silent and ancient it stood.

Kyrian immediately began to walk.

The sound of his footsteps resonated across the bridge as the magma seethed below.

The heat emanating from it was monstrous, far exceeding anything experienced in the Inner Area or even at the crater's edge. Kyrian felt his skin prickle, his eyes sting, and his breathing become strained.

Yet, he did not falter.

He continued forward until he reached the altar.

There, he finally beheld what rested upon its surface.

A solitary stone coffin. Of immense size. Etched with thousands of crimson runes.

The inscriptions emitted a faint luminescence, akin to embers nearly extinguished after countless centuries of waiting.

But Kyrian could sense the formidable Qi concealed within them, an energy so potent and concentrated it felt poised to erupt at any moment.

This was the tomb of Ming Hai.

Kyrian approached cautiously, his eyes meticulously examining every detail of the coffin.

However, the instant he stood before the altar...

Everything shifted.

A profound sound reverberated through the chamber.

The lava beneath began to churn with renewed violence.

Colossal waves surged around the bridge, rising so high that Kyrian feared the magma would engulf his position. They crashed against the dome's walls with enough force to send tremors through the entire structure.

Kyrian retreated instantly, his gaze darting around, searching for the source of the disturbance.

Then, something emerged from the lava.

First, a colossal head.

Followed by shoulders.

Arms.

A titanic torso.

Lava continuously streamed from the creature's form as it ascended, incandescent droplets falling back into the fiery ocean below like a shower of stars. Magma cascaded from its body in blazing torrents, igniting small vapor explosions where it met the surface.

The entity continued its upward movement.

And rising higher still.

Until it was fully revealed behind the altar.

Kyrian slowly lifted his gaze.

And at last, he laid eyes upon a true Fire Spirit.

For a fleeting instant...

Kyrian experienced an immense pressure.

It bore a resemblance to the sensation brought on by the Five-Horned Lava Lizard, yet it was distinctly different. The lizard was imbued with dragon blood, a majestic and ancient lineage. This Spirit, however, emanated a pressure of another nature.

It was a primal, instinctive feeling. As if the entity before him held an inherent superiority over humans, beasts, and virtually every other being Kyrian had ever encountered.

There was something within the Spirit’s gaze, in the manner it regarded Kyrian, that hinted at a consciousness of a unique kind.

’Remarkable.’ Kyrian mused.

The oppressive feeling persisted for a mere moment.

Then, it vanished, dispelled by the inherent resilience of his eyes. Kyrian found no need to unleash any specialized abilities; his eyes, even in their tranquil state, possessed the innate capacity to neutralize such spiritual coercion.

The Fire Spirit regarded Kyrian in silence.

Its colossal form towered, easily spanning fifteen to twenty meters in height. It filled the space behind the altar like a living, imposing mountain, utterly still.

Yet, its physical manifestation was far more humanlike than Kyrian had anticipated.

It possessed a human configuration. A gigantic, perhaps disproportionate human, but human nonetheless. It had discernible limbs, a torso, and a head. The proportions were not perfectly balanced, with arms that seemed excessively long and shoulders exceptionally broad, but the likeness was unmistakable.

Its body exuded a translucent, orange luminescence, crafted entirely from solidified fire and pure Qi. Within this fiery form, currents of energy flowed ceaselessly, akin to blood coursing through veins, tracing pathways that mirrored human meridians.

Kyrian’s vision allowed him to perceive every detail: the migration of Qi, the very architecture of its being, and the intricate dance of its energy.

’It is literally composed of Qi and flame.’ Kyrian observed.

’No flesh. No bones. Merely... fire.’

The sheer volume of Qi contained within this entity was staggering. Kyrian felt as though he stood at the precipice of a bottomless chasm; no matter his attempts at measurement, the depth remained unfathomable.

Far surpassing any cultivator he had ever come across.

Surpassing Dong Zhen by a vast margin.

Dwarfing even the most venerated elders Kyrian had ever known.