Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 332: Lightning in the Night

Kyrian emerged from the stone gate with the speed of lightning.

His feet barely touched the ground of the rocky platform before his purple eyes were already sweeping the horizon in search of the fleeing young man.

Night had fully fallen over the mountain range, and the moon had not yet risen. Only the stars dotted the dark sky like distant sparks.

But Kyrian did not need light to see.

His eyes, now transformed by the activation of lightning Qi, pierced the darkness as if it were day. Every shadow was sharp, every outline clear. And there, descending the rocky slope in a desperate run, was the young man in the white robe.

He ran as if death itself were at his heels.

Because it was.

Kyrian spotted the young man’s destination, a flying beast stationed on a rock further below, its wings already open, ready to take off. It was a silver-feathered eagle, large enough to carry two people, with eyes that shone in the dark like torches.

The young man was about three hundred meters away from it. Running in a straight line. Desperate.

Kyrian did not hesitate.

The lightning dancing around his body intensified. The sound of thunder echoed through the mountain like a war drum. He shot forward.

The speed was so high that the air around him screamed. With each step, the rocky ground beneath his feet cracked, marked by small craters left by the explosion of his momentum. In less than three seconds, he had covered half the distance.

The young man heard the thunder.

He looked back, and his eyes widened in terror.

Kyrian was coming straight at him, his purple eyes shining in the darkness like beacons of judgment. The lightning surrounding his body illuminated the slope in violent flashes, turning the night into a storm-lit day for fractions of a second.

”NO!” the young man shouted.

He wouldn’t make it to the beast in time.

With a quick motion, the young man touched the ring on his finger. A golden light enveloped his body instantly, a protective treasure activated. A translucent barrier formed around him, glowing with ancient symbols that Kyrian did not recognize.

At that same instant, Kyrian attacked.

He did not use the blood dagger. He didn’t need to. His index finger rose, pointed in the young man’s direction, and the lightning surrounding his body concentrated at the tip of his finger.

A single point of violet light, so bright it hurt to look at.

The bolt fired.

It was not an ordinary lightning strike, it was a spear of pure violet light, so fast it seemed to have crossed space before even being fired.

The bolt struck the young man’s golden barrier.

The impact was deafening. The barrier trembled violently, cracks spreading across its surface like luminous spiderwebs. The young man was thrown to the side, rolling across the rocky ground, but the barrier held.

The lightning, however, did not stop.

It passed through the barrier, not breaking it, but passing through it as if it were made of water, and continued in a straight line.

Straight into the flying beast.

The silver-feathered eagle had no time to scream. The bolt struck it directly in the chest, piercing its body from one side to the other. Burnt feathers flew through the air. Charred flesh scattered. The beast fell to the ground with a dull thud, its eyes still open, its life already extinguished.

The young man looked at his dead mount and felt the last thread of hope snap.

He slowly stood up, staggering. The golden barrier still glowed around him, but now it was full of cracks, pulsing weakly like a candle about to go out.

Kyrian approached with slow steps.

There was no haste in his movement. There was no urgency. Only a cold, calculated calm. Each step echoed on the rocky slope like a funeral bell.

The young man instinctively stepped back, his back hitting a wall of rock. There was nowhere left to run.

”Wait!” he shouted, his voice trembling.

”Wait! You don’t have to do this!”

Kyrian kept walking.

”You can keep what you took from the tomb! Keep everything! I won’t tell anyone! I swear!”

Kyrian stopped.

Not because the young man’s words convinced him. But because he wanted to see how far that coward would go.

The young man interpreted the pause as a chance. His voice grew louder, more desperate.

”You don’t know who I am! My master is the Grand Elder of the White Tower! A cultivator of the Spiritual Fusion Realm! If you kill me, he will find out! He will hunt you to the ends of the world!”

Kyrian tilted his head slightly.

”If you kill me, he will find you, and he won’t kill you quickly. He will torture you for days. Weeks. He will rip your skin off, break your bones, and make you beg for death before finally letting it come.” The young man’s voice became sharper, more frantic.

”Not even the Blood Court will be able to protect you! You will die! You will die like a dog!”

He was shouting now. Shouting to cover his own fear. Shouting to try to convince Kyrian, and himself, that he still had some power in that situation.

”You don’t know what you’re doing! Let me go now and I can forget this! I can even let you keep what you stole! But if you touch me...”

He paused to breathe.

”IF YOU TOUCH ME, YOU’RE DEAD!”

Kyrian remained silent for a long moment.

Only the mountain wind blew between them, cold and cutting, mixed with the smell of the burned beast.

Then Kyrian smiled.

It was not a warm smile. It was not a smile of understanding or forgiveness. It was a cold smile, so cold that the young man felt the blood in his veins freeze.

It was a smile of disgust.

Before, that young man had wanted to kill him for nothing. For invading a tomb that Kyrian hadn’t even known belonged to someone. For wearing a red robe. For existing.

He had advanced with killing intent, without hesitation, without dialogue. Kyrian had been nothing more than ”trash of the blood path” to be eliminated.

And now, faced with imminent death, that same young man begged. Shouted. Exchanged arrogance for fear, contempt for desperation.