Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 459: Celestial Descent Festiva (3)

The silence settled over the room for a few seconds. Only the distant sounds of the city outside, the murmur of the streets, and the constant movement of the Caravan that never stopped.

Then, the elder looked at Kyrian.

“Do you intend to participate?”

Kyrian thought about it. His first answer was negative. He still had much to study, much to consolidate, much to understand about his new path.

But then he remembered the Mirrored Third Eye. He remembered consolidation. He remembered the need to fight. Fighting was one of the fastest ways to stabilize a newly created cultivation. Besides… it had been weeks since he had faced anyone, since he had felt the adrenaline of a real battle, since he had tested his limits.

“Maybe.”

Lio Han smiled.

“Maybe?”

“I’m consolidating my cultivation.”

“Ah…” The elder nodded, understanding in his eyes.

“In that case, the tournaments might be exactly what you need.”

Kyrian grew curious.

“Because fighting stabilizes Qi. It forces the body to adapt. It strengthens the meridians. It makes the dantian work under pressure. Many cultivators use battles to consolidate recent breakthroughs.” It confirmed what Kyrian already knew, but hearing it from someone as experienced as Lio Han gave the idea more weight.

“The rewards are usually excellent as well.” Lio Han added.

“Then perhaps I’ll participate.”

“Do it.” Lio Han pointed at the golden token on the table.

“And don’t forget. That token grants access to the Four Heavenly Auction Halls. Use it well.”

Kyrian stored the item in his pocket, feeling the cold metal against his fingers, the weight of its promise.

“Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Shortly afterward, Lio Han stood up, stretching his shoulders and neck.

“I need to get back to work. Enjoy the festival.”

Kyrian almost smiled.

“I’ll try.”

The elder laughed. Then he left the room. The door closed behind him, the click echoing through the silence like a final note.

And the silence returned.

Kyrian remained seated alone. His fingers slowly rotated the VIP token, watching how the room’s light reflected across its golden surface, creating tiny points of light that danced across the walls.

Delicate runes covered its surface, patterns he did not recognize, yet clearly served a purpose. A gentle energy pulsed within it. It was not a treasure. But it clearly possessed some form of authentication formation.

His gaze became distant.

The Celestial Descent Festival. The Sky Family. The Heir of the Heavens. Azhura’k. Auctions. Tournaments. Everything sounded interesting.

But only one thing truly caught his attention.

Fighting.

His third dantian needed it. It needed to be placed under pressure. It needed to be tested. It needed to be used.

And then a simple conclusion emerged in his mind.

He had already spent too much time in isolation. Too much time studying. Too much time inside that small courtyard, surrounded by books and scrolls, immersed in theories that could only become reality through practice.

It was time to go out. It was time to see what existed beyond.

“I’ve spent too much time in seclusion already…” He murmured.

“I’ll see what this festival has to offer.”

The decision was made. Without hesitation. Without regret. If he found interesting tournaments… he would participate. If he found strong opponents… he would fight. If he found opportunities… he would seize them. It was simple.

Kyrian stood up.

And left the Alchemists Association.

The activity outside seemed even greater now. The streets were packed, so crowded that there was barely enough room to walk without bumping into other cultivators.

The city’s energy was almost tangible, a mixture of excitement, anticipation, and expectation vibrating through the air like a taut string waiting to be played.

But he had one more task to take care of.

The formation plates.

A short while later, he arrived at the Hall of a Thousand Exchanges. The building was just as busy as the Alchemists Association. Employees hurried back and forth, cultivators negotiated in loud voices, merchants argued prices with animated gestures, and guards watched everything attentively.

Kyrian presented his formation plates.

And, as expected… he was immediately escorted to a private room.

This time, he was received by a gray-haired elder with sharp eyes, eyes that seemed capable of seeing through lies and exaggerations, evaluating every detail with surgical precision.

The man examined the formations for nearly half an hour, turning over each plate, studying every rune, testing every connection with spiritual tools that Kyrian did not recognize. The more he observed… the more impressed he seemed.

“Excellent quality. Far above average. Especially these concealment formations.”

Kyrian simply listened.

Then the man made a proposal similar to Lio Han’s. Some of the plates would be used as auction items in exchange for a much larger percentage of the profits.

Kyrian accepted without difficulty. It was easy money. And it would likely earn far more than an ordinary sale.

The conversation continued for some time. They discussed prices, deadlines, potential buyers, the festival, and the auctions. By the end, both seemed satisfied.

When he left the Hall of a Thousand Exchanges, the sun was already beginning to descend toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold that reflected off the building facades.

But Kyrian did not immediately return home.

For the second time that day… he felt hungry.

It was not true hunger. His body was nourished by the pills. But he wanted to eat. And after weeks of living solely on pills… it felt like a luxury worth enjoying.

So he entered another restaurant.

He purchased a large quantity of prepared food. Roasted meats seasoned with aromatic herbs, freshly baked bread, spiritual sweets that glowed faintly, rich broths that released fragrant steam.

Everything was carefully stored in special containers that preserved heat and flavor.

Enough for several days.

As he walked back toward his courtyard, he heard conversations coming from every direction.

And one phrase was repeated constantly.

“Tomorrow! Tomorrow! The Descent Ceremony takes place tomorrow!”

Kyrian slowed his pace.

Without realizing it, he began listening.

“At Sky Tower Plaza!”

“They say the Heir will appear personally!”

“The Patriarch too!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything!”

“I heard it will be the greatest ceremony of the last several centuries!”

The crowd seemed consumed by expectation, excitement, anxiety, and admiration.

Sky Tower.

Kyrian knew the place.

The gigantic tower that rose above the entire city, the absolute symbol of the Sky Family, the tallest structure in the entire Caravan.

It was impossible not to see it.

Even from the opposite side of the city.

As he walked through streets illuminated by spiritual lanterns, which now shone with colorful lights in honor of the festival, creating a spectacle of colors that danced across the facades, Kyrian raised his eyes.

There it was.

Immense.

Majestic.

Dominating the horizon.

The tower seemed to touch the clouds, its peak disappearing among brilliant formations that sparkled like stars.

And for the first time…

Kyrian felt a small spark of genuine curiosity.

After all… the Sky Family ruled a flying city.

They controlled Azhura’k.

They were considered a first-rate power.

And tomorrow…

They would finally appear before everyone.

A small smile appeared on his lips.

Not from admiration.

Nor reverence.

But anticipation.

After all… he wanted to see as well.

He wanted to discover what kind of people were capable of commanding something as absurd as the Caravan of the Heavens.

And so, carrying his food containers and his thoughts, Kyrian slowly returned to his courtyard.

Tomorrow would be the first day of the Celestial Descent Festival.