Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 612: Technique of Sound Qi Resonance (4)

The plate exploded. Thousands of small pale-yellow fragments flew across the table and fell to the ground, creating a rain of shards that tinkled against the stone.

‘Tin. Tintin. Clink.’

The sound of the fragments scattering across the surface was almost delicate after the explosion, a soft music that marked the end of the challenge.

Kyrian slowly lowered his saber, his eyes still fixed on the remains of the plate. The silence that followed was absolute.

For a few seconds, no one seemed to react, the shock of how quickly he had completed the test hanging in the air. Then a nearby participant turned his head, his eyes widening.

“Did he already do it?”

Another stopped his own test completely, his concentration broken by surprise.

“Impossible… How much time has passed?”

“Not even fifteen minutes! We haven’t even begun to properly understand the technique!”

People began looking at the number engraved on the table, 127, and then at Kyrian, their eyes filled with admiration and disbelief. He was the first, the first of approximately five hundred participants to completely comprehend the technique and destroy the plate.

At the center of the hall, the elder was also watching, his tranquil eyes fixed on Kyrian. For the first time since the beginning of the test, a small change appeared in his expression, his eyebrows rising slightly, a gesture of surprise that he quickly controlled.

He looked at Kyrian for several seconds, his penetrating attention unwavering. Then he took out a small jade plate and recorded something, his fingers moving quickly across its surface. No one knew exactly what he had written, but the gesture suggested that Kyrian’s performance had caught his attention.

Kyrian, however, did not seem interested in his reaction. He looked at the fragments before him, his mind still processing the technique. The Sound Qi Resonance Technique was truly interesting, not only because he had managed to comprehend it quickly but also because he had realized something important.

The technique did not depend on a fixed frequency or on a specific sound that worked for everyone. It taught a principle, a method for finding resonance through observation and adjustment. That meant it could be adapted to different situations, different weapons, and different materials. A sword, a saber, a spear, perhaps even objects that were not weapons, such as shields or armor.

Kyrian sheathed his saber, the metal sliding back into its scabbard with a satisfying click. Around him, some competitors were still trying to understand the first principles, their faces furrowed in concentration. Others had already produced relatively stable sounds, but none had managed to destroy the plate.

Kyrian stood up, his chair scraping softly against the stone floor. Some people immediately looked at him, their eyes following his movements. He ignored them, his gaze already turning toward the exit.

There was no reason to remain there, the test was already resolved, and his objective fulfilled. His time was precious, and there were other things that needed to be done.

“Now the forge.”

There were still only a few days left in the Sky Caravan, and each one was precious. Sun Luguo was not merely some ordinary master blacksmith, he was one of the greatest forging experts in the Caravan, a man whose knowledge had been accumulated over decades of work. Having the opportunity to learn directly from him was something Kyrian had no intention of wasting.

He walked toward the exit, his steps firm and determined. When he passed through the doors of the hall, the noise of the Festival enveloped him once again, a wave of sound that contrasted with the solemn silence inside. Kyrian took a deep breath, the air carrying the aromas of food, spiritual Qi, and incense.

He looked at the sky of the Caravan, at the clouds slowly drifting above the flying city. There was still time before his next obligation.

The Sound Qi Resonance Technique had been interesting, a valuable addition to his knowledge. But, to Kyrian, it was merely another lesson acquired, another tool in his ever-growing arsenal. The true goal remained ahead, waiting for him.

Forging. And, that afternoon, he would learn another small part of the path that might one day lead him to create weapons capable of keeping pace with his own growth, weapons that would be extensions of his being rather than mere tools.

With that thought, Kyrian began walking toward Sun Luguo’s workshop, his steps quick and determined as he crossed the busy streets of the Caravan. The Festival continued around him, but he was already focused on what was to come, on the sound of hammer against metal that awaited him.

The previous night had been special, but now it was time to move forward.

…

Kyrian crossed the busy streets of the Sky Caravan, gradually leaving behind the more crowded areas of the Festival.

The flow of cultivators was still intense. Vendors shouted the prices of their goods, young disciples excitedly discussed the battles they had watched, and from time to time, some spiritual artifact flew over the streets, leaving a luminous trail in the sky.

Kyrian, however, paid little attention. His mind was already in the forge.

After a few minutes, the sounds of the Festival began to fade. The luxurious buildings gave way to simpler establishments, workshops, and stores specializing in spiritual materials. The smell of food was gradually replaced by the familiar odor of heated metal, charcoal, and refined minerals.

Then he saw the familiar facade. Sun Luguo’s workshop.

Kyrian slowed his steps. Something was different.

Normally, the old blacksmith would be inside the workshop at that hour, probably working before the furnace or examining some weapon on the workbench.

But today there was someone sitting outside. Sun Luguo. The old master was sitting on a low wooden chair, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were closed, and his expression was so peaceful that he could have appeared to be sleeping.

Kyrian stopped a few meters away. He observed him for a few seconds. Then he realized. Sun Luguo was not resting. He was waiting.

Kyrian walked over to him.

“Master Sun.”

The old blacksmith’s eyes slowly opened.

A discreet smile appeared on his wrinkled face.

“Finally back.”

Kyrian raised an eyebrow.

“You were waiting for me?”

Sun Luguo let out a low laugh and stood up from the chair, rolling his shoulders.

“Of course.”

He entered the workshop and gestured for Kyrian to follow.

The workshop door closed behind the two of them.

And, shortly afterward, the first sound of a hammer began to echo through the street.

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