Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 444: One Week



Chapter 444: One Week

The following days passed peacefully.

Kyrian’s life had been reduced to something much simpler. Studying.

The small house he had rented, with its two simple rooms, its courtyard surrounded by stone walls, its table constantly covered with scrolls, had become his world.

There were no longer bustling streets to explore, nor markets to visit, nor unexpected encounters with mysterious men. Only the silence of the courtyard, the crackling of candles upon the table, and the occasional sound of the wind blowing through the cracks of the window.

It was a productive silence. A silence that allowed thoughts to expand, ideas to connect, and knowledge to solidify.

During the first days, Kyrian focused all of his attention on the six basic techniques he had purchased from the Pavilion of Ten Thousand Scriptures.

All of them reached only the Qi Release Realm, a level that, for most cultivators, was considered beginner-level. One of the first steps on the long staircase of cultivation. The foundation upon which everything else would be built.

For ordinary cultivators, completely comprehending even one of them could take months. Some required years. Each technique was a universe unto itself, with its own rules, its own flows, its own requirements.

It was necessary to memorize circulation patterns, learn to sense the flows of Qi, and practice repeatedly until the movements became instinctive. A slow, gradual process that demanded patience.

But for Kyrian... it was different.

As though his eyes allowed him to see far beyond the written words.

When he read a technique, he did not merely observe the surface instructions. He did not follow the steps mechanically, like a student repeating a lesson.

He observed its internal structure, the energetic architecture that supported the entire process.

Its foundation, the basic principles upon which the technique was built.

Its logic, the reasoning behind every decision, every flow, every choice.

The paths traversed by the Qi, how the energy moved through the meridians, which routes were prioritized, which were avoided.

The reasons behind each step, why the breathing was synchronized in a certain way, why bodily movements followed specific patterns, why Qi circulation followed particular routes.

It was like looking at a building and simultaneously seeing all of its beams, pillars, and foundations. As though Kyrian’s eyes could see through the walls, through the outer layers, all the way to the skeleton of the technique.

Because of that...

In only two days, he completely comprehended all six techniques.

He did not merely memorize them, he understood them. If he wished, he could begin cultivating any of them immediately.

Without errors. Without deviations. Without risks.

Every flow of Qi would be perfect. Every circulation would be precise. Every step would be executed at exactly the right moment.

But that was not what he wanted.

As he observed the six scrolls spread across the table, each representing a different path, a different philosophy, a different approach to the same fundamental problem, one question remained in his mind.

Why?

Why were his eyes capable of cultivating different types of Qi?

Why could fire Qi, ice Qi, blood Qi, lightning Qi, sword Qi, and now that strange black Qi coexist within his eyes?

None of the techniques before him offered an answer. All of them were limited.

They chose a single path. A single direction. A single energy. A single understanding.

It was the exact opposite of his eyes, which expanded in multiple directions, absorbed different energies, and grew with every new path discovered.

And that meant that none of them were suitable for him.

Even so, the study had not been useless. Quite the opposite.

The more he read, the more he realized something fundamental.

The techniques were different only on the surface.

One absorbed Qi through breathing, synchronizing the flow with the body’s natural cycles, using the air as a vehicle for spiritual energy.

Another through the meridians, guiding energy through specific pathways, using the body’s energetic structure as a system of channels.

Another utilized specific bodily movements, postures, gestures, dances that created flow patterns.

Another depended on extremely complex circulation cycles, with dozens of stages, each possessing its own timing, intensity, and purpose.

But all of them did exactly the same thing.

They transformed external energy into personal energy.

The method changed. The result did not.

That truth engraved itself into his mind as a fundamental principle.

A cultivation technique was not the objective.

It was merely a method. A tool. A bridge.

The true objective was cultivation itself, growth, evolution, transformation.

And that understanding became the first stone in the foundation of what he intended to create.

While studying cultivation, he also devoted part of his time to alchemy.

The Alchemist Association had provided him with new recipes after his approval as a Rank 5 Alchemist.

Recipes far more complex than those he had possessed before, with more ingredients, more steps, and greater requirements regarding temperature and timing.

Some required combining herbs that normally repelled one another.

Others required heating and cooling cycles in precise sequences.

Others depended upon synchronization between the alchemist’s Qi and the properties of the herbs.

During that week, Kyrian refined pills daily.

Fire danced within the cauldron, changing color, intensity, and temperature in response to his will.

Herbs were purified, their impurities transformed into vapor that dissipated into the air.

With the impurities removed, what remained was pure essence, shining with a light of its own.

Essences fused together, combining into new forms, creating structures that had not existed before.

With every new batch, his understanding increased.

His control became more refined. More precise. More instinctive.

By the end of the week, several bottles occupied one of the shelves within the small house.

They were Rank 5 pills, some for Qi recovery, others for bodily strengthening, others for spiritual purification.

All produced by his own hands.

In addition, he also devoted time to formations.

Stacks of spiritual plates were consumed, the raw jade transformed into tools of power.

Runes were engraved with silver ink and surgical precision, each stroke made with purpose.

Energetic lines were drawn, connecting into complex patterns that created structures of power.

Structures carefully linked together, like pieces of an energetic puzzle, each depending upon the others to function.

Some plates became defensive formations, capable of blocking spiritual attacks, absorbing impacts, and providing protection.

Others became warning formations, detecting unwanted presences, issuing subtle alerts, and standing watch.

Others became isolation or illusion formations, concealing what should not be seen, creating false realities.

All of them were Rank 5 formation plates.

Although they were not extraordinary, they still possessed significant commercial value. The type of item experienced merchants would pay well to acquire.

Kyrian knew exactly what he would do with them.

Sell them.

Buy more materials.

Produce them again.

And repeat the process.

It was an efficient way to accumulate resources, without depending on anyone, without needing missions or favors.

Money would be transformed into knowledge.

And knowledge was exactly what he needed.

During the week, he also repeatedly studied the Endless Needles Technique.

More specifically... the notes of the mysterious man, Eryon.

The more he read, the more he realized the depth of that technique.

The Black Points, those strange points that he could now see within all living beings.

The special needles, were unique tools that required rare materials and complex processes to forge.

The strange black Qi, an energy that did not behave like any Qi Kyrian had ever encountered.

Everything seemed to touch upon something beyond the common understanding of cultivators, something more fundamental, closer to the essence of the world.

Even so... he still did not understand its true nature.

What exactly were those points?

Why did they exist?

Why could they save or kill with a single touch?

Not even the creator of the notes possessed complete answers.

Eryon had spent a hundred years studying them.

And even so, he understood almost nothing.

That only increased Kyrian’s curiosity.

But it also reinforced something important.

It was still early.

Far too early to use the technique.

He did not need to understand everything now.

He only needed to continue accumulating knowledge.

Like someone gathering pieces of an enormous puzzle.

Even without being able to see the complete picture.


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