Read Novel Full Chapter 454: Foundation (3)
Chapter 454: Foundation (3)
He remained motionless. Watching. That had never happened like that before. Never.
He deactivated the lightning. Activated the ice. The core changed again. Instantly.
Icy Qi spread through the channels.
A thin layer of frost appeared over his skin, glowing faintly under the light, tiny crystals forming and dissipating.
Not through conscious activation. Not because his eyes were forcing it. But naturally, as an extension of his body.
Like breathing.
Kyrian watched, fascinated.
Everything worked. Everything.
Then, he realized something even more important.
Efficiency.
Before, a large portion of the Qi was wasted when sent into his body.
The eyes consumed enormous amounts of energy, every activation a drain.
The body could not keep up, and the energy dissipated.
There were constant losses in every transformation, in every use.
Now, there were not. The Mirrored Third Eye functioned as an intermediary. A stabilizer. A mirror.
Qi circulated harmoniously, flowing from one core to another, from the body to the eyes, and from the eyes to the body.
As though it had finally found the correct path.
It was perfect. Or almost. Time passed. Hours. Many hours.
Kyrian continued refining the connections, adjusting the flow, and balancing the energies.
Adjusting details, small corrections that made a great difference.
Stabilizing the flow, ensuring the energy moved without turbulence.
Deepening his understanding, comprehending how every part of the system interacted.
When he finally opened his eyes again… it was already night.
Almost an entire day had passed.
His body was tired, his muscles sore, his eyes heavy.
But his mind was awake. More awake than ever.
Slowly, he stood up. Walked to the mirror. And observed his reflection.
That was when he noticed it. At the center of his forehead. A small mark. Extremely subtle. Almost invisible.
A thin silver vertical line, as fine as a strand of hair. Small. Elegant. Like a closed eye.
Anyone looking normally would not notice it. But it existed.
A mark left behind by the birth of the technique.
Kyrian touched his forehead.
He felt the small core pulsing beneath the skin, a soft, constant, living vibration.
His third dantian. His path. His creation. His future.
A smile slowly appeared. Small. But sincere.
He had succeeded.
After weeks of study, days and nights immersed in knowledge. After dozens of techniques, each one offering a piece of the puzzle. After hundreds of books, each one adding a layer of understanding. After countless attempts, each failure brought him closer to success.
He finally possessed something truly his own. A technique created by him.
Even if it was still rudimentary, only the beginning of what it could become.
Even if it was incomplete, with room to grow, to evolve, to expand.
It was real. And that was enough. For now.
His gaze then swept across the room.
Books, stacked in every corner. Scrolls, covering the table and floor. Notes, on scraps of paper and jade tablets. Diagrams, drawn and redrawn, each version an iteration.
All that knowledge had been necessary. Every bit of it. But now… only one piece remained.
The most important of all. Because a dantian without cultivation was merely an empty reservoir.
It needed to grow. It needed to evolve. It needed to absorb energy. It needed to advance through the realms.
Kyrian slowly sat back down on the bed. Thoughtful. The smile disappeared, not because of sadness, but because of concentration.
Replaced by focus, his mind turned toward the next challenge. It was already working again.
Analyzing possibilities. Searching for answers. Then, he let out a long sigh.
He raised a hand and touched his forehead once more.
Feeling the small core pulsing beneath his skin, that constant, promising rhythm.
And murmured to himself.
“Now I just need to figure out how to cultivate…”
…
Kyrian remained seated for a few seconds after finishing the connection between his new dantian and the rest of his body.
The feeling was still strange, as though something that had always been missing had finally been found. As though a void he had never known existed had been filled.
The small core in his forehead pulsed in sync with his heart, a steady rhythm echoing through his newly connected meridians.
The sun was already beginning to disappear behind the structures of the Sky Caravan, painting the horizon in shades of orange and gold that spread across the sky like the brushstrokes of a divine painter. Shadows stretched long, and the buildings cast elongated shapes over the stone streets.
His entire body ached.
The newly connected meridians still felt sensitive, like channels that had been forced open, still adapting to the constant flow of energy. The third dantian pulsed slowly in his forehead, like a newborn heart learning how to beat, each pulse a confirmation of its existence.
Despite that, satisfaction shone in his eyes.
He had succeeded.
After weeks of studying, days and nights immersed in knowledge.
After dozens of cultivation techniques, each one offering a piece of the puzzle, each one showing a different facet of the same problem.
After countless books about meridians, about the human body, and about the limits and possibilities of cultivation.
After failures, each one a lesson, each one a step closer to success.
He had finally created something of his own. A technique that belonged to no sect. To no master. To no ancient legacy.
It was his.
But his body was exhausted. His brain as well.
Kyrian slowly stood up.
His legs felt heavy, as though rooted to the ground, every movement requiring tremendous effort.
The simple act of walking to the bed, just a few steps, nothing more, required more effort than it should have.
When he reached the room, he merely removed his boots, a mechanical movement, almost unconscious, lay down on the simple mattress, and closed his eyes.
Sleep came almost immediately.
Darkness. Silence. Emptiness.
Kyrian opened his eyes. Or believed he had opened them.
Because there was nothing around him. Only absolute darkness.
A darkness so profound that it seemed to swallow even thoughts themselves, every idea dissolving before it could form, every sensation being absorbed by the void.
And then… the sensation returned. That familiar sensation, the feeling of being watched.
He had experienced it many times already. It was still unsettling. But no longer unfamiliar.
Slowly, he raised his head. And saw it.
The eye.
Kyrian held its gaze.
For a few seconds.
Then minutes.
Or perhaps hours.
Time did not seem to exist in that place.
Then… the eye blinked.
The gigantic eyelid, black as the void, and heavy as a mountain, moved slowly.
And for a brief instant… Kyrian saw them.
Again.
The countless Black Points.
Spread across the entire eye.
Like black stars.
But before he could observe them more closely… everything disappeared.