Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 607: Back to the Goals (4)

"Is that the boy?"

"Yes, the one with violet eyes."

"They say he’s fighting with strength below his own cultivation."

"Not only that. He seems to be doing it on purpose, as if he’s training."

"Then why would anyone do something so stupid?"

"Stupid? Haven’t you seen his fights? He’s destroying opponents who should be much stronger."

Kyrian continued walking, indifferent to the comments. The rumors had spread, his unusual technique attracting the attention of many. Ever since he had begun deliberately lowering his cultivation before battles, some people had noticed, their curious minds trying to decipher the logic behind his actions.

At first, no one had paid much attention, he was just another participant among many. Now, however, the situation was different. Kyrian had defeated too many opponents, each victory more impressive than the last. And, unlike the other participants, he didn’t seem to be trying to win in the easiest way. He was looking for difficulties, testing his limits, and forcing himself to improve.

That behavior had naturally sparked curiosity, speculation, and admiration. Some spectators had begun calling him the dark horse of the competition, a participant no one expected to make it this far while using strength so far below his true potential.

Kyrian found the nickname a little strange, but he didn’t care. What mattered was what he gained from each fight.

His name was announced shortly afterward, echoing through the amplification formations.

"Arena Three!"

Kyrian entered, his footsteps firm against the stone floor. The circular arena was surrounded by a transparent energy barrier, a field that glowed with a soft light. Complex runes covered the ground, ready to absorb the impact of the techniques used by the competitors and protect the spectators.

On the other side, his opponent was already waiting, an imposing figure who emanated a calm but powerful energy.

He was an elderly man, his gray hair tied behind his head in a simple bun. A short, well-groomed beard covered part of his face, and his eyes were a deep gray, like storm clouds.

He wore a simple dark-blue robe, without any symbol belonging to a major force or sect, an independent cultivator, most likely.

His cultivation was clearly within the same realm, the fourth stage of the Core Formation Realm. But he was not a weak cultivator, Kyrian could feel the stability of his energy, the depth of his Qi, and the fluidity of his presence. It was like water continuously flowing through a river, steady and powerful.

Kyrian narrowed his eyes. Water Element.

"Interesting."

The old man also observed him attentively, his gray eyes scanning Kyrian’s face with professional curiosity. After a few seconds of silence, he asked.

"Are you Kyrian?"

"Yes."

"I heard you like to fight with reduced cultivation."

Kyrian did not deny it, his answer was simple and direct.

"It’s true."

The old man let out a dry laugh, a sound that carried more skepticism than humor.

"Arrogant young man."

Kyrian merely raised an eyebrow, an expression that was neither challenging nor defensive.

"Perhaps."

The old man seemed surprised by the response, his eyebrow rising slightly. He had probably expected some argument, some passionate defense of his approach.

But Kyrian had no interest in arguing, his goal was to fight, not to convince anyone of his methods.

The referee entered the center of the arena, his presence imposing and neutral.

"Are you both ready?"

Kyrian nodded. The old man did the same.

"Then..." The referee raised his hand.

"Begin!"

The next instant, Kyrian reduced his cultivation, the energy flowing through his meridians in a familiar pattern. The pressure emanating from his body dropped rapidly, the Qi compressed into a smaller but denser volume. His power was reduced, but his precision increased.

The old man noticed, his eyes narrowing with a new assessment.

"He really did it..."

The stands also reacted, murmurs spreading through the crowd like fire through dry straw. Some spectators leaned forward, their expressions ranging from curiosity to skepticism.

Kyrian paid no attention. His right hand reached for the hilt of his saber, his fingers wrapping around the familiar metal.

’Shing!’

The blade left its sheath, a flash of steel that caught the light. Thin lightning bolts began to run across the metal, luminous threads snaking across the blade’s surface like snakes of light. They were not violent bolts, only small threads glowing with controlled intensity.

The old man wasted no time. He raised one hand, and Water Qi exploded around him. A huge amount of spiritual energy condensed before him, forming a wall of water that advanced like an unstoppable wave.

Kyrian remained motionless, his violet eyes shining with intense light. The world seemed to slow around him, his opponent’s movements becoming clearer, more predictable. The trajectories of the Qi, the small flaws in the technique, the regions where the energy was less stable, everything appeared before him like a transparent map.

His eyes analyzed the technique as if he were observing a glass structure, every joint, every point of tension, every potential weakness.

Kyrian took one step, then another. His saber rose, the lines of lightning intensifying in response to the movement. And descended.

’BOOM!’

An arc of lightning tore through the wave, the electricity meeting the water with an explosion of energy. The water exploded in all directions, steam covering part of the arena like a cloud of mist.

The crowd let out exclamations of surprise, voices rising in admiration.

"He destroyed the technique directly!"

"It’s Lightning! Water is naturally vulnerable to that!"

"But he’s at the Qi Liberation Realm! How did he achieve so much power?"

The old man quickly retreated, his eyes widening with new understanding. His expression became serious, his initial confidence giving way to a more cautious assessment. He realized at that moment that his opponent was not someone who could be defeated simply through pressure or brute force.

"So that’s how it is..." He raised both hands, and water began spreading across the arena floor.

Within seconds, the entire surface was covered by a thin layer of liquid, a mirror reflecting the light of the lanterns.

Kyrian looked down, his eyes scanning the shining surface.

The old man smiled, a smile filled with confidence.

"Let’s see how you fight now."