Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 456: Five Days

Five days passed.

During those five days, Kyrian barely left the small courtyard he had rented.

His world had been reduced to three things. Consolidation, observation, and patience.

The sun rose and set over the Sky Caravan. Clouds crossed the sky in patterns that changed every hour, the wind swayed the herbs in the garden he had planted. Kyrian remained there, seated in the center of the courtyard, immersed in his own consciousness.

After creating the Mirrored Third Eye and rapidly advancing to the Fourth Stage of Qi Accumulation, he had not attempted another breakthrough. Not because he was incapable, but by choice.

His third dantian needed to stabilize. It needed to grow accustomed to its own existence.

It was like a newborn child learning to walk, every step required care, every movement required attention, every fall could create a permanent scar.

Forcing it to advance too quickly could create permanent flaws in his foundation.

And Kyrian knew very well the value of a solid foundation; the books he had studied made that clear, tirelessly repeating the importance of consolidating each stage before moving forward.

That was why he spent those entire days seated in a cultivation posture at the center of the courtyard, observing, sensing, and analyzing the small nucleus within his forehead.

With each passing day, the Mirrored Third Eye became more stable, its edges becoming more defined, its structure solidifying like a rock polished by time. More solid, the meridians connecting it to the ocular cores became thicker, stronger, like ropes that had been braided and re-braided. More connected, the threads of energy linking it to the rest of the system spread like the roots of an ancient tree, penetrating deeply into every corner of his body.

The flow of Qi between the three cores became more natural, like a current finding its riverbed, flowing without resistance. Smoother, without turbulence, without conflicts, without the collisions that had once caused pain. More efficient, every particle of energy being utilized to its fullest, circulating through his body like a river that never overflowed.

But it still was not enough. Whenever he observed his dantian with his consciousness, he could clearly perceive it. It was still adapting. It was still consolidating the changes caused by the three consecutive breakthroughs.

The meridians, the channels of the Bone of the Heavens, the very fabric of the nucleus itself, everything was still in the process of settling, like a structure whose cement had not yet fully dried.

A few more days would be necessary. Perhaps a week. Perhaps two. Or… there was another way.

Fighting. Kyrian had read about it many times in the books he studied. Real combat was one of the most efficient ways to consolidate a realm, far more efficient than simply meditating.

During a battle, Qi was constantly being used, the meridians were pushed to their limits, and the dantian worked without pause. It was continuous pressure, pressure that strengthened foundations the way fire tempers steel.

If he found a suitable opponent, he might be able to completely stabilize his cultivation in only one or two days. But where would he find someone like that? Kyrian had no idea. So he set the thought aside. If an opportunity appeared, excellent. If it did not, he would continue consolidating normally. He was in no hurry.

On the morning of the sixth day, Kyrian opened his eyes after the same dream that felt far too real, that giant eye, that infinite darkness, those Black Points scattered like stars across an empty sky.

The sun was already high, a gentle light filtered through the trees of the courtyard, the wind carried the scent of damp earth, and birds sang in the distance.

He remained seated for a few seconds, simply observing, sensing his cultivation, his body, his new dantian. Everything felt correct. Stable, harmonious, alive.

Then, his eyes swept across the courtyard and immediately found a problem, a gigantic mess.

Books scattered everywhere, stacks of scrolls, jade slips, recipes, notes, boxes, bottles, alchemical materials. It looked as though an entire library had exploded inside that place. Kyrian stared at the scene for a few seconds, then sighed.

“I think it’s time to clean up…”

He stood and began organizing everything.

First came the books. There were many, far more than he had imagined. Over the past few weeks, he had purchased practically every work that might help him.

Cultivation techniques of every realm and element, medical studies on the human body and its meridians, treatises on the nature of Qi and its circulation, analyses of dantians and their variations.

Theories on the connection between body and spirit, stories of ancient cultivators and their discoveries, personal experiences of deceased masters, notes from alchemists on the art of refinement, commentaries on battle and defensive techniques. Books on elemental paths and their interactions, books on special physiques and their capabilities. Books on bloodlines and their powers. Books on the soul and its relationship with cultivation. Hundreds of them, forming a small mountain of knowledge.

Kyrian began separating them carefully. One pile for basic techniques, up to the Qi Release Realm, another for intermediate techniques, up to the Core Formation Realm, another for advanced techniques, up to Spiritual Awakening and beyond.

One pile for medicine, concerning herbs, spiritual diseases, and treatments. Another for spiritual anatomy, concerning the energetic structure of the body. Another for meridian studies, filled with diagrams and detailed analyses. Another for cultivation paths, philosophies, and different approaches. It took quite a while, but little by little everything became organized.

While storing the books inside his spatial ring, he realized something. This was a fortune. Even though they were only copies and the original techniques remained in the Ten Thousand Scriptures Pavilion, those copies still held enormous value, especially in smaller cities, minor sects, cultivation families, and merchants who resold knowledge.

He could sell all of this in the future, perhaps for hundreds of thousands of spirit stones, perhaps even more. So he stored every book carefully, separated, cataloged, and organized.

Next came the alchemical materials. His cauldron was the first, the enormous black cauldron with ancient runes engraved across its surface disappeared into the spatial ring with a low whoosh.

Then came the remaining ingredients, dried and fresh herbs, twisted roots, shining spiritual fruits, mineral powders of various colors, liquid essences stored in jade bottles. Everything was placed in its respective section.

Then came the pills, batch after batch, bottle after bottle, hundreds of them. Almost all Rank 5, most of them perfect, without a single impurity, shining with a soft light that reflected their superior quality. Each one was worth a small fortune to any alchemist or cultivator seeking them.

Finally came the formation plates. Defensive formations capable of blocking spiritual attacks, concealment formations that hid the presence of anyone inside them, isolation formations that created impenetrable barriers, alert formations that detected any unwanted presence, illusion formations that deceived even sharpened spiritual senses. Dozens of them, all produced during the past few weeks, all ready for sale.

Half an hour later, the courtyard was unrecognizable. Clean, organized, silent. As though no one had ever lived there. Kyrian observed the result and nodded in satisfaction.

“Alright.”

He paused. Then his stomach growled.

“Now I need to eat some good meat…”