Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 411: Dream

Kyrian fell asleep only a few minutes after lying down.

The mattress was soft, softer than he had expected. The sheets carried the scent of dried herbs, probably some kind of spiritual fragrance meant to aid rest. The room was dark, quiet, protected from the constant movement of the city outside.

His body was still tired.

No longer injured, the cuts had healed, the burns had disappeared, and his meridians had stabilized.

Not exhausted to the point where he couldn’t fight. If something happened, Kyrian could rise and fight within seconds.

But tired.

It had been more than two weeks of flying with almost no interruptions. Days and days crossing forests, mountains, rivers, and endless plains. The constant wind, the vigilance against flying beasts, and the effort of staying alert even during breaks.

His Heaven Bone was still exhausted. Kyrian could feel it, a silent presence within his spine, dormant, without radiance, without pulsation. It would need more time to recover.

But the rest of his body had recovered completely.

His meridians were stable. His cores were full. His muscles were rested.

’But even a cultivator needs rest.’

The mind as well.

And for the first time in a long while, Kyrian slept deeply. Without remaining alert. Without keeping one eye open. He simply slept.

...

Then suddenly, something happened.

Kyrian opened his eyes abruptly. Or at least he believed he had. Because he was no longer at the inn. He was no longer in his room. He was no longer in the Sky Caravan.

Everything around him was darkness. Absolute darkness. No ground. No sky. No stars. No source of light whatsoever.

Kyrian remained motionless for a few seconds. Observing. Trying to understand. But no matter where he looked, upward, downward, to the sides, behind him.

All he saw was black. Emptiness. Silence.

"Where am I?"

No answer came.

Kyrian began to walk. Step after step. Without direction. Without a destination. Simply moving forward.

But nothing changed. The darkness remained exactly the same. There were no walls. There were no obstacles. There was nothing. It was like walking through the void itself.

Minutes passed. Then hours. Or at least, they felt like hours.

In that strange place, Kyrian could not feel the passage of time. His heart did not beat faster. His body did not grow tired. He did not even feel hunger or thirst.

He simply walked. Continuously. Without finding absolutely anything.

...

It was only after a long time that something finally changed.

A voice appeared. Very distant. Very faint. So faint that it almost seemed imaginary.

Kyrian stopped. And listened.

"...Me..."

The voice vanished. Silence returned.

Kyrian narrowed his eyes. Then he heard it again.

"...Help..."

This time more clearly. It was a strange voice. Deep. Heavy. Yet unlike any human voice he had ever heard.

There was something about it. Something strange. Something that made his skin crawl. Not from fear. But from its sheer otherness.

Kyrian remained silent. Paying attention. Then the voice returned.

"Please..."

This time he felt it. The pain. The sadness. The suffering. Even without seeing who was speaking. Even without knowing that voice. He could feel it.

As though every word carried countless years of agony.

Kyrian frowned. And began walking in that direction. Or at least in the direction he believed the voice was coming from.

He wasn’t certain. But it was better than standing still. So he continued onward.

...

Time passed. Once again. Minutes. Hours. Perhaps days.

Kyrian did not know. The darkness remained exactly the same. No changes. No landmarks. No sign of progress whatsoever.

But the voice kept appearing. Always distant. Always faint. Always filled with suffering.

"Someone..."

Hours later.

"...Help me..."

More hours.

"Please..."

And again.

"Someone..."

It was like following the echo of someone lost. Someone trapped. Someone desperate.

Kyrian continued forward. Without giving up. Without growing tired.

Until finally something appeared.

Ahead of him.

For the first time since arriving in that place, for the first time in hours, days, or who knew how long, something existed.

Kyrian stopped. And his eyes narrowed.

A gigantic shape emerged from the darkness. Immense. Colossal.

So large it resembled a mountain.

No.

Larger than many mountains.

Kyrian watched in silence. Trying to understand what he was seeing. Then he realized. It was round. Curved. Alive.

And slowly... he understood.

"An eye?"

His voice echoed through the void. Yes. It was an eye. A single eye. Gigantic. The size of an entire mountain.

The iris was yellow. Golden. Deep as an ocean. At its center was a vertical pupil. A dark slit that looked capable of swallowing the entire world.

Kyrian remained motionless. Watching. And at that exact moment...

The eye seemed to look back at him. A strange sensation ran through his body. As though an impossible creature had finally noticed his existence.

The eye blinked. Slowly. And the voice echoed once more. But now it no longer sounded distant.

It seemed to come directly from his mind.

"Who..."

A pause.

"...are..."

Another pause.

"...you...?"

Kyrian remained silent for a few seconds. Then he answered.

"Kyrian."

His voice seemed absurdly small before that existence.

"Who are you?" Kyrian asked in return.

The eye remained still. For a long moment. Then it answered.

"Azhura’k..."

The voice carried exhaustion. An exhaustion so profound that it seemed impossible.

As though that creature had been tired for thousands of years.

The eye blinked again. And at that instant...

Everything disappeared. The darkness. The void. The eye. The voice. Everything.

...

Kyrian opened his eyes again.

This time for real.

The ceiling of the inn appeared above him, dark wood marked with pale grains and a few thin cracks.

The gentle light of morning filtered through the window, not golden like sunset, but silver, fresh, and new.

The room was exactly as before. Silent and peaceful. Normal.

Kyrian remained lying down. Staring at the ceiling. Without moving. Thinking.

Recalling every detail. Every word. Every sensation. That enormous eye. That voice. That plea for help.

It had felt far too real. Much more real than any dream.

Kyrian rarely dreamed. And when he did, when his eyes rested completely, when his mind allowed itself to wander, the details faded quickly.

Images dissolved. Sounds vanished. Sensations became vague.

But not this time. He could remember everything. Perfectly. As though he had truly been there.

As though he had truly spoken with that creature.

"This definitely wasn’t a normal dream..." Kyrian muttered.