Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 531: Pressure

A faint smile remained on Kyrian’s face for only an instant, a brief twitch at the corners of his lips that reflected the spark of a new idea that had just emerged in his mind.

It was something bold, almost insane by other people’s standards, yet exactly what he needed to consolidate his third dantian.

Then… it disappeared.

Like a cloud dispersing beneath the sun, that fleeting expression gave way to absolute seriousness.

His eyes, once gentle, became sharp blades of concentration. The ease that had radiated from his posture was replaced by controlled tension, like the string of a bow on the verge of being released.

He took a deep breath.

A long, measured inhale, followed by an exhale that seemed to carry away every distraction from the outside world. His lungs filled with air, and when the breath left him, something changed within.

At that very moment, the Qi circulating through his body began to diminish.

The powerful energy belonging to the Fourth Stage of the Core Formation Realm, which had previously pulsed with the intensity of constant thunder, gradually began to shrink.

It was as though an erupting volcano was being restrained, its power compressing inward, concentrating into an ever-smaller point.

The energy flowed into his eyes.

Third stage…

The pressure surrounding his body visibly decreased.

Second stage…

His spiritual presence became subtler, almost imperceptible.

First stage…

The energy emanating from him was now comparable to that of an ordinary cultivator.

Until it finally stabilized…

At the peak of the Qi Liberation Realm.

The change was so obvious that practically everyone in the arena noticed it. It was as if a blazing sun had suddenly transformed into a flickering candle. Shock rippled through the crowd like a tidal wave.

“What?” exclaimed a middle-aged spectator, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“His cultivation dropped!” shouted another, pointing toward the arena with a trembling finger.

“Is he hiding his strength?” asked a young woman nearby, frowning in confusion.

“No… he really lowered his energy!” her companion replied, slowly shaking his head.

“That’s not concealment, it’s voluntary compression!”

Even the judge, who remained motionless at the edge of the arena, subtly raised his eyebrows. His experienced eyes immediately recognized the technique, a rare maneuver that required extraordinary spiritual control.

It wasn’t something just any cultivator could accomplish, especially in the middle of a battle.

Bao Ren remained motionless for a brief moment.

His body, taut as a drawn bowstring, seemed to have turned to stone. The air around him vibrated with the metallic energy emanating from his core, yet for several seconds, he simply stood there, processing what he had just witnessed.

Moments later, his expression darkened completely.

The wrinkles on his forehead deepened, and thick veins bulged across it, throbbing with the fury rising within his chest. His eyes, once cold and calculating, now burned with a fire that threatened to consume everything around him.

His enormous double-bladed axe was slowly rested upon one shoulder, its twin blades gleaming menacingly beneath the setting sun.

The runes across its surface pulsed with an even more intense crimson light, as if the weapon itself were responding to its master’s rage.

He stared at Kyrian with an intensity that could melt stone.

“…Are you mocking me?”

His voice was heavy, every word laden with tons of restrained fury. The sound was deep, like boulders rolling down a mountainside, carrying with it a promise of violence.

“You actually think…” He took a step forward, and the arena floor cracked beneath his feet, forming a web of fractures that spread in every direction.

“…that you can fight me using only the cultivation of the Qi Liberation Realm?”

Another step. The cracks deepened. Fragments of stone flew to the sides.

“Are you looking down on me?” His voice rose in intensity, echoing throughout the entire arena. The crowd, which had been murmuring in excitement moments before, now fell silent, absorbing the tension building in the air.

Another step. The metallic aura surrounding Bao Ren became even more intense, forming a visible layer of golden energy that gleamed like polished steel. The air around him seemed heavier, laden with the promise of destruction.

“Are you saying you don’t even need to use your full strength against me?” His right hand tightened around the axe’s handle with such force that his knuckles turned white. The metal creaked beneath his grip.

The spectators immediately began commenting, their voices rising in waves of speculation and concern.

“He’s furious,” whispered a gray-bearded man, shaking his head with concern.

“I would be too,” replied his companion, a scarred middle-aged warrior.

“Being underestimated like that… it’s humiliating.”

“Kyrian went too far this time…” added a silver-haired woman, frowning.

“Bao Ren isn’t an ordinary opponent. Provoking him like this could be dangerous.”

“He must have a plan,” suggested a young man beside her hopefully.

“Kyrian doesn’t seem like the type to act without thinking.”

“A plan?” the scarred warrior scoffed.

“Lowering your own cultivation in the middle of a fight? That’s not a plan, that’s madness!”

While the debates raged throughout the stands, Kyrian remained motionless, his saber pointed slightly downward, its blade reflecting the fading sunlight. His eyes, however, remained completely focused on Bao Ren, not with arrogance, but with absolute concentration.

However…

Kyrian merely shook his head slightly, a movement so subtle it almost went unnoticed. His expression remained serene, like the surface of a lake on a windless day.

“You misunderstood.”

His voice remained calm, almost gentle, yet carried a clarity that sliced through the silence like a blade.

“I didn’t do this to underestimate you.”

He gripped his saber firmly, his fingers adjusting around the hilt with perfect precision. The blade trembled faintly, as if eager for the battle that was about to begin.

“I simply need more pressure.”

Bao Ren frowned even more deeply, his thick brows merging into a single line above his eyes.

“More pressure?”

For a moment…

He didn’t understand.

Confusion crossed his face like a passing cloud. What did Kyrian mean by that? How could lowering his own cultivation increase the pressure?

Then…

He interpreted those words as an even greater provocation.

His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, and a cold smile, utterly devoid of warmth, spread across his face. It was the smile of a predator that had finally decided to stop playing with its prey.

The muscles in his arms swelled, the fibers contracting and expanding beneath his skin like steel cables. The metallic Qi surrounding his body became even denser, forming an invisible suit of armor that shimmered with golden light.

“Good.”

The word came out like an icy breath, laden with dark promises.

“Then I’ll give you enough pressure to make sure you never forget it.”

BOOM!!

The stone beneath his feet exploded into a cloud of shattered fragments.