Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 331: Inside the Gate (5)

The young man felt a chill run down his spine.

"Damn it!" he exclaimed, instinctively stepping back.

"What the hell is this? Wasn’t he a cultivator of the blood path? How the hell does he have lightning Qi now?"

He moved behind his guardian, his eyes still fixed on Kyrian. The arrogance that had once filled his chest had completely evaporated. In its place, only a cold, creeping fear remained.

He had not been able to see the attack. He had not sensed the Qi approaching. He had not had time to raise his sword to block.

The middle-aged man rose from the wall, his expression now as hard as stone. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I don’t know how either, Young Master." He said, his voice low and controlled.

"But... he seems like a completely different person now."

And it was true. Kyrian still wore the same red robe of the Blood Court. He still wielded the same blood dagger. But something about him had changed.

The pressure emanating from his body was different. It was not just the pressure of a cultivator of the blood path, it was something older, more savage. As if thunder itself had taken human form.

"Stay behind me." The man ordered, positioning himself in front of the young man.

"And prepare your protective treasure. It doesn’t seem so simple to kill him anymore."

It was difficult for him to admit. He was at the peak of Core Formation, several stages above Kyrian. In any normal fight, he should have been able to crush a 1° stage opponent with one hand tied behind his back.

But Kyrian was not a normal opponent.

The purple eyes staring at him were terrifying. There was something in them that made his survival instinct scream. And the speed Kyrian had shown in his counterattack... he could not even process what had happened.

The man clenched his fists and channeled all the Qi in his body into his hands. The Qi claws became denser, sharper. If he could not win by technique, he would win by brute force.

Kyrian observed everything with a cold expression.

In his hand, the dagger made of blood still remained, the beast blood he had received from the inheritance.

And now, imbued with the lightning Qi that Kyrian possessed, it was more lethal than ever.

Lightning danced around Kyrian’s body like a living mantle. Small arcs of electricity leapt from his hair, from his shoulders, and from the tips of his fingers. The sound of thunder was constant, a deep rumble that filled the chamber.

Kyrian moved.

The sound of thunder intensified. Violet light filled the chamber.

In an instant, Kyrian was at the back of the room. In the next instant, he was in front of the middle-aged man.

It was so fast that the man barely had time to react. He raised his hand in the form of a Qi claw at the last moment, placing it between his chest and Kyrian’s blood dagger.

The two forces collided.

The impact was violent. The sound of the dagger striking the Qi claw echoed like a broken bell. Sparks, red and violet, flew in all directions.

The man was sent flying again.

His body hit the wall with enough force to create cracks in the stone. He spat blood, not a trickle, but a jet that stained his gray robe. His arms trembled. His Qi claws had shattered on impact.

He fell to his knees, gasping.

And he realized.

He was not a match for Kyrian.

It didn’t matter the difference in stages. It didn’t matter the years of training, the accumulated techniques, or the experience in past battles. Kyrian was on an entirely different level.

The man lifted his head, his eyes meeting the young man’s. A decision was being made there, a decision no guardian likes to make.

"YOUNG MASTER!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber.

"I will hold him back! Escape immediately!"

He stood up. His legs trembled, but he stood. All the remaining Qi in his body was channeled into his hands, into his arms, and into every inch of his skin. He did not need to win. He only needed to buy time.

The young man did not hesitate.

Before the man even finished speaking, he had already dashed toward the chamber’s exit. His feet barely touched the ground. His breathing was fast and ragged. He did not look back.

He didn’t need to.

He knew what his guardian was doing. And he was desperate to escape.

Kyrian saw the young man run. Saw his figure disappear into the dark corridor that led out of the mountain.

But he did not worry immediately.

The middle-aged man was between him and the exit. And that man, even wounded, even exhausted, still represented a threat. Kyrian would have time to kill him first. Then, he would pursue the young man.

The man advanced.

It was not a sophisticated attack. There was no elaborate technique or flourish. It was just a man throwing all the Qi he had left into a single desperate strike.

His hands transformed into claws again, not two, but four, six, eight. Qi claws appeared around his body like the limbs of a demon, each sharp enough to cut steel.

"Demonic Wind Claw Technique!"

He attacked.

Kyrian moved.

The sound of thunder echoed once more. Violet light filled the chamber.

Kyrian’s blood dagger cut through the air in a swift arc. Not once, not twice, but five times. Each strike was faster than the last, each aimed at a different point on the man’s body.

The Qi claws tried to block. The first claw was cut. The second as well. The third, the fourth, and the fifth all were split apart by the lightning-infused dagger.

Kyrian’s sixth strike hit the man’s shoulder.

The seventh struck his chest.

The eighth struck his right arm, which fell to the ground with a wet sound.

The man dropped to his knees.

Blood gushed from his wounds. His gray robe was completely red. His eyes were glazed, but he was still conscious.

"Run... Young Master..." he whispered, before collapsing to the stone floor.

Kyrian looked at the fallen body for a moment. The man was still breathing, barely, but breathing.

He did not have time to finish him.

The young man was already far away.

Kyrian turned and dashed toward the chamber exit, his steps leaving marks of lightning on the stone floor. The dark corridor stretched ahead of him, and at its end, an opening to the sky.

He ran.

The wind cut against his face. The sound of thunder followed him.

When Kyrian finally emerged from the mountain, the sun had already completely set. The sky was dark, dotted with stars.