Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 164: Five-Year Tournament (9)

Kyrian’s first blood spear marked the end of the observation phase. The air in the arena grew heavier, saturated with the now-open intent of both combatants.

Li Fen abruptly stopped his retreat, a predatory smile stamped across his face.

"So you finally decided to fight." He whispered.

His own blood then seeped from minimal cuts between his fingers, rising and wrapping around the black dagger, extending it into a sinuous, living blade of coagulated blood.

"Let’s see whose blood is superior."

He dashed forward, closing the distance in a zigzag. Kyrian did not retreat. The blood spear in his hand dissolved, recomposing itself into two short, compact daggers of solid crimson. He grasped them.

The duel then resumed.

The sound of solidified blood colliding echoed. Li Fen was a hurricane of movements, his blade a red blur seeking openings.

While Kyrian was a bastion. His defenses were minimal but precise. Each block with his daggers was calculated to deflect the least amount of force, and each step backward was only what was necessary to absorb the impact.

He did not counterattack with fury but with thrusts that forced Li Fen to reposition, breaking his rhythm.

The physical difference was obvious. Each impact made Kyrian’s blood daggers tremble, requiring a constant injection of Qi and intent to remain solid.

His feet slid on the stone under Li Fen’s superior strength.

But Kyrian did not waver. His crimson eyes followed every muscle, every contraction, every acceleration in Li Fen’s blood flow. He was not merely reacting but calculating every step of his opponent.

Li Fen felt the advantage, but also a growing frustration.

"You’re stubborn!" He growled, unleashing a series of rapid attacks with the tip of his blade, each accompanied by a thin needle of Blood Qi projected from the hilt.

Kyrian dodged most of them, letting one needle graze his shoulder, opening a new cut.

Blood flowed. He ignored it. Instead of defending against the next needles, he made his first aggressive maneuver.

With a sudden movement, he dissolved one of his daggers and reformed it into a small blood shield, blocking the needles.

With the other dagger, he attacked not Li Fen, but his blood blade. Striking it forcefully at the point where the blood met the metal of the dagger.

A sound like cracking glass. The tip of Li Fen’s blood extension shattered, dissipating into mist.

Li Fen retreated, surprised. Reconstructing that part would cost more Qi and blood.

The fight became a game of brutal economy. Li Fen attacked with strength and speed, spending a great deal with each assault.

Kyrian defended and counterattacked with the absolute minimum, always aiming not at Li Fen’s body but at his blood weapons, his projectiles, any extension of Qi that he could force his opponent to spend more energy to remake.

Kyrian seemed to be enjoying his small objectives while playing during the fight. He had forgotten how fun fighting this way was.

Minutes passed. Li Fen’s breathing became audible, a panting hiss between clenched lips. His blood blade, once vibrant, now looked duller, more unstable.

He was still faster, but his movements had lost the edge of their murderous precision. Fatigue and the constant expenditure of Qi to maintain pressure and reconstruct his techniques were taking their toll.

Kyrian, on the other hand... looked the same. His blood daggers were still bright, his control impeccable. He breathed deeply, but in a controlled manner.

The cuts on his body bled, but he did not seem to care about the loss. His eyes never left Li Fen.

Even wounded, Kyrian realized that Li Fen could not control his blood, his eyes would not allow that.

The audience watched in silence, stunned. The battle was not a spectacle of colossal powers but a lesson in lethal efficiency. Kyrian was winning not because he was stronger, but because he was infinitely better at combat and far more economical with his strength.

Every drop of his Qi, every drop of his blood, was spent perfectly with a purpose in mind. While every movement of Li Fen was anticipated and punished with a counterattack that cost more to the attacker than to the defender.

"Li Fen is at the peak of the Liberation Realm, but if this continues, his energy will run out quickly..." Yan Ling whispered to herself, fascinated.

Bai Zhu watched with his arms crossed and a serious expression. He saw the technique, the patience.

He saw that if he were in Li Fen’s place, his brute-force fighting style would be exploited even more cruelly.

Li Fen finally stopped, retreating to the center of the arena. His chest rose and fell. His blood blade flickered, almost liquid now.

He looked at his hands, at the cuts, at the impassive opponent. The reality was clear. He was nearly dry. His Qi was at its end, his blood weakened from so many extractions.

Kyrian, on the other hand, looked as if he had only just begun to fight.

A surge of rage, pure and irrational, took hold of Li Fen. He could not lose like this. Not to a completely unknown newcomer.

With a hoarse cry of final mental effort, he gathered all the Qi he had left, all the blood he could extract without fainting.

His blood blade shone one last time, becoming a short, gleaming spear.

He used no stealth. He charged straight ahead, in a straight line, a desperate and powerful attack with everything he had.

"Final Shadow Piercing!"

It was strong. It was fast. It was the last gasp of his strength.

Kyrian did not retreat.

The instant Li Fen charged straight forward, all the chaos of the arena seemed to slow down before Kyrian’s crimson eyes.

The opponent’s blood flow was exposed, screaming in desperation. With his eyes, he could see that there was no longer refined technique nor acceptable control as before. It was just raw force brutally compressed into a single strike.

"So that’s it..."

Kyrian slowly released the air, disappointed.

The two blood daggers in his hands dissolved at the same time, flowing like living liquid along his arms, up his shoulders, and wrapping around his torso. The blood did not disperse but condensed.

In the next instant, a single long, straight blade formed in his right hand. It was not large. Nor flashy. It was simple. Compact and dense.

But the pressure emanating from it made everyone in the arena feel that this would be Kyrian’s most powerful attack so far.

Li Fen felt it. His eyes widened for a microsecond, wondering how Kyrian still possessed so much strength, but it was already too late to stop.

The short blood spear surged forward, piercing the air with a sharp howl.

Kyrian took a step forward. There was no shout, no explosion.

Kyrian’s blade moved in a straight line, a simple, direct, and supremely economical cut.

The two techniques met. For a brief moment there was resistance.

But then... Li Fen’s blood gave way. Kyrian had struck the weakest point of Li Fen’s technique. The outcome was obvious.

The short spear cracked down the middle, the blood breaking apart into unstable fragments, unable to maintain its form. The technique collapsed before even reaching Kyrian’s body.

But the cut did not stop.

Kyrian’s blade crossed the space and only stopped when it struck Li Fen squarely in the chest.

A deep gash appeared, tearing the clothes and revealing a terrible cut that ran from the neck to the abdomen.

There was no immediate spray of blood. Only a dull sound.

Kyrian passed by him.

Two steps later, the blade dissolved into red particles that reentered his body.

Li Fen remained standing for a full second.

His face still bore the frozen expression of fury.

Then, a thin line appeared on his chest.

Blood began to flow.

His knees failed.

Li Fen fell to his knees, his breathing faltering, his eyes trembling as he tried to understand what had happened.

He brought a hand to his chest, feeling the heat rapidly escape.

"What..." he tried to speak, but only blood came out of his mouth.

Kyrian slowly turned around. His gaze was still calm, cold. Absolutely indifferent.

But if someone truly knew him, they would know that Kyrian had enjoyed the entire fight.

Li Fen fell onto his side, his body hitting the arena with a heavy sound.

Silence.

No sound came from the audience for several seconds.

Dong Zhen took a moment to react. But after the battle ended and seeing Li Fen’s condition, he immediately tossed a pill to one of the servants near the arena.

A message was sent to the servant, who immediately entered the arena and placed the pill into Li Fen’s mouth.

The cut on his chest began to recover visibly, and Li Fen’s pale skin showed signs of improvement.

Then, finally, he raised his voice.

"Victory to Kyrian, of the Main Branch!"

The announcement echoed, but Kyrian no longer paid attention.

He felt the blood slowly trickling from his own cuts. His body was wounded, which was definitely rare. But he was stable. His Qi... was still abundant in his two dantians.

After focusing his eyes on his wounds, the blood began to coagulate rapidly, and in moments the cuts stopped bleeding.