Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 471: Exploring the Festival

The competition was still ongoing in another arena when Kyrian left the venue.

The applause gradually faded behind him, replaced once more by the constant buzz of the Celestial Descent Festival.

The streets remained packed, and with every passing hour, even more people seemed to appear, as though the city itself were expanding to accommodate the ever-growing crowd.

The sound of lively conversations, laughter, and negotiations filled the air, creating a chaotic symphony that Kyrian was beginning to find strangely familiar.

The farther he walked, the more he felt that the Caravan’s population had tripled. Cultivators from every realm, from Qi Accumulation to Spiritual Awakening and beyond, walked side by side, their robes of countless colors and styles forming a living mosaic.

Merchants carried exotic goods on carts or inside their own spatial rings. Alchemists displayed glowing vials containing their creations on makeshift stalls.

Formation masters carried jade plates beneath their arms. Blacksmiths with hammers hanging from their belts proudly displayed newly forged weapons. Beast tamers were accompanied by creatures of every size and shape.

Performers entertained on street corners, drawing small crowds with music, dance, or spiritual illusions.

People from every profession filled the streets, creating a vibrant tapestry of cultures and talents. The very air seemed charged with excitement, an energy that tingled against every resident’s skin, making every step feel lighter and every glance more curious.

Kyrian decided to simply wander without a destination. After spending so many weeks isolated within his own courtyard, surrounded by books and scrolls, simply watching the crowds was already enjoyable. It was a change of pace, a break from constant study, and an opportunity to see the world beyond his own theories.

Not long afterward, a gathering of people caught his attention. A large stone platform had been erected in the center of a plaza, surrounded by a crowd watching in respectful silence.

Several formation masters were working there, not selling finished formation plates, but creating them before the audience in a live demonstration of their craft.

Kyrian stepped closer, his violet eyes taking in every detail of the scene. On the tables lay dozens of spirit wood plates, blocks of polished jade glowing with an inner light, Qi crystals pulsing softly, and small brushes made from the fur of spiritual beasts, each with its own unique texture and stiffness.

The masters drew runes slowly, every stroke extraordinarily precise, as though they were writing a poem in an ancient language. Qi flowed through the tips of their brushes, seeping into the wood like living ink and creating patterns that seemed to breathe.

The inscriptions glowed for a few seconds before disappearing completely into the plate, as if the energy had found its permanent home.

Beside them, another master employed an entirely different method. Instead of brushes, he used a tiny golden needle, so fine that most people could barely see it with the naked eye.

The needle’s tip carved directly into the spirit wood, engraving tiny grooves that formed intricate patterns, before filling those channels with condensed Qi, which solidified instantly.

Kyrian watched attentively, his eyes following every movement and every flow of energy.

‘Interesting…’

He himself used a different technique. Thanks to his eyes, he could perfectly visualize the flow of energy within the plates, allowing him to draw formations almost instinctively, guiding the Qi directly to the correct points.

These masters, however, relied on extraordinary manual precision. It was a slower method, but also an exceptionally refined one, born from years of practice and mastery.

Another elderly master used yet a third technique. He gently heated the jade with a small spiritual flame before engraving the runes.

As he explained to the spectators, this reduced the material’s resistance and made Qi circulate more easily, allowing the formation to absorb more energy from its surroundings.

Kyrian remained there for several minutes, absorbing every detail, every technique, and every secret revealed before his eyes. Although his own method was different, observing other ways of creating formations still broadened his understanding. Knowledge was never useless, and every different approach offered a new perspective on the same problem.

After a while, he resumed walking. Not far away, he heard a crowd shouting in unison, their voices rising in a wave of excitement.

As he turned a corner, he found another arena. This one was much larger, with tiered stone grandstands capable of seating thousands of spectators. A huge sign hung above the entrance.

“Spiritual Beast Tamer Competition.”

Kyrian entered. The grandstands were nearly full, spectators of all ages buzzing with anticipation, their eyes fixed on the center of the arena. There stood two enormous metal gates, each covered in containment runes glowing with a bluish light.

Soon, a judge stepped onto the field, his voice amplified by formations.

“Next battle!”

The two gates began to open with a metallic groan. From the left emerged a massive bear, its body seemingly covered in natural metal plates that gleamed beneath the light, every step making the ground tremble with a heavy impact.

Its dark fur was almost completely hidden beneath the thick bony armor covering its shoulders, chest, and head.

“Iron-Plated Bear!”

The audience immediately erupted into applause, cries of excitement echoing through the grandstands.

From the opposite side, a tiger slowly emerged. Its body was lean, its gray fur blending into the shadows, its emerald-green eyes shining like twin jewels. Every time it breathed, small currents of wind swirled around its fangs, forming an almost imperceptible vortex.

“Wind-Spitting Tiger!”

The two beast tamers stood behind their respective beasts, motionless as statues. Neither spoke a single word nor made any visible gesture. The judge lowered his hand.

“Begin!”

The tiger acted first. It opened its jaws, and a blade of compressed wind shot across the arena at incredible speed, so fast that it distorted the air in its wake.

The bear raised both arms, the metal plates covering its forearms, taking the attack head-on.

‘Clang!’

Sparks burst forth like stars, the wind leaving only shallow marks across the polished metal surface.

The very next moment, the bear roared, a deep sound that made the arena tremble, and charged forward, each step shaking the ground like a miniature earthquake.

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