Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 347: A Visit

During the afternoon, Kyrian stopped at two more restaurants.

In one of them, he tried a volcanic seafood stew that came from underground heated lakes, strange creatures with hard shells and soft white meat, slowly cooked in a broth of spicy herbs.

In the other, he tasted sweets made with honey from fire bees. The flavor was extremely spicy and sweet at the same time, a contrast that burned the tongue while also soothing it.

The city was vibrant, full of life and contrasts. The constant heat, the red smoke in the sky that tinted everything in shades of orange, the people hardened by life near the volcanoes, everything created a unique atmosphere that Kyrian had never experienced anywhere else in the Northern Territory.

It was different from the Blood Court, with its darkness and blood. Different from the Verdant Sword Sect, with its forests and wind.

It was a city built on fire and ash, and its inhabitants reflected that in every gesture.

...

When the sun began to set, tinting the smoke in even deeper shades of red and orange, Kyrian arrived at a large central square.

He stopped, surprised by the number of people gathered.

Thousands of cultivators and residents filled the space. The square was completely packed, with people even on the stairways of the surrounding buildings and on the balconies of the upper floors.

The murmur was loud, a mixture of excited voices, nervous laughter, and speculation, but a clear anticipation hung in the air, dense like the smoke that covered the sky.

Curious, Kyrian approached, calmly making his way through the crowd. His cold energy caused people to move aside naturally, giving him space without him needing to ask.

At the center of the square was an elevated stage of black stone, polished by constant use. Four elders stood upon it, each wearing different robes representing their respective forces.

Their voices, amplified by Qi, echoed throughout the square with crystal clarity.

Kyrian quickly understood what it was about.

The four elders were announcing the formation of a large joint expedition to explore the last and most dangerous of the ancient volcanoes in the range, the Great Volcano. The one whose red smoke dominated the horizon.

”... All united forces seek the inheritance left by Ancestor Ming Hai!” said an elder with a long beard and flame-patterned robes, his arms open in a dramatic gesture.

”Any cultivator willing may participate in the expedition. We depart tomorrow at dawn!”

Another elder continued, his voice deeper and more serious.

”Each small group will be led by a representative of one of the four great forces present here. The objective is simple, to find Ming Hai’s tomb.”

”When the inheritance is discovered, it will be divided fairly among the participating forces. Those who contribute significantly to the expedition, especially whoever finds the exact location of the tomb, will receive generous rewards. Ancestral techniques, high-level treasures, mid-grade spirit stones, and a position of prominence within their respective sects!”

The crowd murmured excitedly. Many young cultivators had eyes shining with ambition and greed, imagining themselves discovering the tomb and being rewarded beyond their wildest dreams.

Kyrian remained in the square for nearly half an hour, listening to the details. The elders explained basic safety rules, meeting points at the base of the volcano, and how the reward system for discoveries would work. The enthusiasm was palpable, almost contagious.

However, Kyrian felt no urge to participate.

He had already decided on his plan, he would spend one or two more days exploring the city, trying more of the local food, and resting properly. Then he would continue his journey toward the next major city indicated on Dong Zhen’s map.

The Central Territory was still very far away.

When the announcements ended and the crowd began to disperse into excited groups, Kyrian turned around and left the square.

He dined at a quieter restaurant near his inn. He ordered a dish of grilled fish with volcanic herb sauce and a jug of light spiritual wine. He ate slowly, reflecting on the day, on the city, and on the expedition he would ignore.

The City of Red Smoke was interesting, full of life and opportunities. But it was not his destination.

After finishing the meal, he paid and returned to the Golden Ash Pavilion. He went up to his room, took another bath to wash off the sweat and ash of the day, and lay down on the soft bed.

The distant sounds of the city still reached him, excited voices talking about the expedition, hurried footsteps on the stone streets, and the hot wind carrying particles of ash that softly tapped against the windows.

Kyrian closed his eyes.

Tomorrow, he would explore the last district he had not yet visited. After that, he would prepare Arcon and continue his journey south.

Sleep came quickly and peacefully.

...

Knocks on the door.

Kyrian opened his eyes immediately, alert. The light entering through the balcony indicated that the sun had not fully risen yet, it was early, very early for visitors.

He sat up on the bed, quickly put on the ice-blue robe, and walked to the door. His cold energy was already active, his snowflake eyes glowing in the dim light of the room.

He opened the door.

Five people stood outside.

Kyrian frowned, finding it strange. He did not recognize any of them. They wore different robes, some made of fine fabrics, others simpler, but all clean and well-kept.

There was a tall young man in a scarlet robe, a young woman with her hair tied in a high bun wearing dark blue garments, a thin man in a gray robe with silver embroidery, a woman with a serious expression in green clothing, and a round-faced young man in a yellow robe.

Kyrian examined each of them quickly, his icy eyes capturing details others would not see.

Then, his perfect memory worked.

One of them, the young man in the scarlet robe, he recognized. He had been sitting at a distant table in the restaurant where Kyrian had dined the day before.

Kyrian had seen him in his peripheral vision while eating, but had not paid attention. Now, the presence of that man at his door so early the next morning was not a coincidence.

”What do you want?” Kyrian asked, his voice calm but direct.

”You’re here for me. Why?”

The five young people exchanged quick glances among themselves. The young man in the scarlet robe stepped forward, apparently the group’s spokesperson. His eyes were fixed on Kyrian’s icy eyes, studying them with an expression that mixed admiration and respect.

”Young Master.” He said, making a respectful bow.

”We want your help with something. We will pay for it.”