Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 395 - 396
Previously on Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation...
A palpable pressure descended from above, causing the four leaders to slowly lift their gazes.
They froze upon seeing Kyrian suspended high in the sky, dozens of meters off the ground.
His spine, visible through his tattered clothes, emanated an intense glow, outlining each vertebra against the charred fabric.
Veins of fiery orange light coursed through his body like rivers of magma, flowing down his arms, ascending his neck, and spreading across his chest.
But the most awe-inspiring sight...
...was his wings.
Two colossal wings, forged entirely from fire and Qi, unfurled behind him.
They were unlike any avian, chiropteran, or draconic appendages; they were something novel, exuding beauty, majesty, and sheer terror.
Each feather appeared crafted from incandescent, liquid magma, vibrant, pulsing, and alive.
The air itself vibrated with every slight movement of the wings, creating visible atmospheric ripples.
It wasn't Kyrian's personal Qi sustaining these magnificent wings.
Instead, they drew their power from the surrounding environment, empowered by the volcano itself.
The wings beat once. A singular, thunderous motion.
’WHOOSH!’
A wave of intense heat radiated outwards, causing the very stones nearby to melt and forcing the four leaders to scramble backward.
The saber-wielder felt a searing pain on his face, a profound burn that seemed intent on piercing his Qi barrier.
The old man gritted his teeth so hard that one fractured.
He had never encountered such a phenomenon.
From his vantage point, Kyrian observed the four leaders.
His expression was one of chilling coldness.
Utterly emotionless.
His eyes blazed like divine embers, not the faint flicker of a campfire, but the fierce radiance of a nascent sun.
Then, he raised a hand.
He felt it – the profound connection to the volcano, the magma, the fire. Everything.
It felt as natural and instinctive as moving an arm or closing a fist.
And the lava responded.
The scarlet sea flowing down the mountainside, the oceanic inferno Kyrian had summoned from the volcano's core, shifted its course.
The transformation wasn't gradual, like a river diverted by an obstacle.
It was instantaneous, like an army obeying a command, a colossal serpent reorienting, or a living tsunami surging forth.
It surged directly towards the four leaders.
Their faces drained of color.
They understood their fate.
If that lava reached them...
...they would perish.
Even with their prized defensive treasures, spiritual barriers, protective talismans, and layers of Qi armor.
Even with their decades of combat experience.
Even as cultivators who had achieved Spiritual Awakening.
This was genuine volcanic magma; survival was unlikely.
"RUN!"
The old man's desperate command echoed, though it was rendered moot as they were already fleeing.
Each leader scattered in a different direction.
Abandoning formations, coordination, and all semblance of pride.
Their sole focus was self-preservation.
But the lava was swift, far too swift.
Its advance was guided by Kyrian’s unwavering will.
The axe-wielder was the first to be targeted.
He ran with the desperation of a madman, his legs channeling Qi at an unsustainable rate.
He risked a glance backward.
And witnessed the approaching scarlet wall.
A fifty-meter-high barrier of molten rock, advancing with the raw fury of the earth.
He attempted to activate a defensive treasure, a bracelet that pulsed with blue light, conjuring a translucent shield around him.
It lasted less than a second.
The lava flowed through it as if it were nothing more than air.
Then, it engulfed him.
His scream resonated across the mountain, a chilling sound of pure terror, unimaginable agony, and ultimate despair.
It lasted mere moments.
Then, silence.
He vanished utterly.
The swordsman was next.
Having witnessed his companion's fate.
He pushed himself to run even faster.
He invoked a movement technique that consumed his life essence, a desperate measure that would shave years off his lifespan.
His speed surged dramatically.
For a few fleeting seconds, he almost outran his doom.
Suddenly, a colossal arm of magma erupted from the ground before him.
Like an immense wave, like the hand of an enraged deity.
It struck him directly.
His body was consumed by the incandescent ocean.
His limbs, torso, head – all obliterated.
Leaving no trace behind, not even a final cry.
The saber-wielder endured longer.
Significantly longer.
He fled like a cornered beast, weaving in a zigzag pattern, attempting to elude the relentless flow of lava.
He leaped over chasms, dodged impassable rocks, and even employed his own fire techniques in a futile attempt to alter the lava's course.
He too burned his life essence.
More and more, until his body began to visibly wither.
His speed escalated to prodigious levels.
For a brief moment, hope flickered; it seemed he might escape, he might survive. But it was insufficient.
The lava found him.
First, his legs melted instantaneously. Then his waist, his spine cracking apart. Finally, the rest of him succumbed.
His cry of despair echoed for several seconds.
The sound of a man being immolated alive by the earth's fiery heart.
Until it too vanished completely.
Silence descended once more.
Three were dead.
Only one remained.
The old man, the strongest, the most experienced, possessing the highest Cultivation among the four.
He too was now burning his life essence.
He could feel his life force draining away, his remaining years rapidly diminishing with each passing moment.
Despair took over his features completely.
It wasn't the calculated rage from before, nor the haughty arrogance of someone who deemed himself superior.
This was the sheer desperation of a cornered beast.
He fled with frantic steps, his feet barely grazing the earth.
He didn't even dare to glance back.
Then...
Blood began to trickle from Kyrian’s nose.
A single drop.
Followed by another.
Soon, a thin stream flowed.
An unbearable headache pulsed violently within his skull, throbbing as if something were desperately trying to break free.
Wielding that immense power, the fiery wings, the command over lava, and the connection to the volcano were pushing his physical form beyond all conceivable limits.
His meridians seared. His muscles spasmed uncontrollably.
His very brain felt consumed by flames.
And his grip on control was starting to slip.
The Bone of the Heavens blazed with intense light, so brilliant that Kyrian could perceive his own spine through his skin, each vertebra pulsing like a miniature heart.
However, even this divine artifact was showing signs of profound exhaustion.
Its radiant glow began to fade.
The pulsating rhythm weakened.
The luminous veins tracing patterns across his body darkened.
Kyrian swiped at the blood with his thumb.
He completely disregarded the bleeding.
His gaze remained locked onto the elderly man.
One opponent still stood.
Then, he unfurled his wings.
Once.
‘BOOM!’
The sound erupted across the heavens, not a typical wing beat but a concussive detonation.
His body transformed into a streak of fiery orange.
The acceleration was astounding.
Possessing a speed many times that of the old man, who was already at his absolute limit, burning his life essence to achieve unprecedented velocity.
The surrounding world seemed to melt away.
The sky. The land. The peaks. The lingering ash.
In a single, instantaneous moment...
Kyrian materialized directly before the fleeing cultivator.
His presence completely obstructed the man's desperate escape route.