Chapter 433: A Touch of the Needles (2)
The mysterious man cast only a single glance. He did not even stop completely.
His steps slowed, just enough to take aim. Then...
A needle vanished from his hands. Kyrian could barely follow it.
It sliced through the air, silent, swift, and precise. It pierced a specific point near the cultivator’s chest.
Instantly, the man screamed.
"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"
A scream so desperate that several people recoiled in fear.
"What happened?"
"What’s going on?"
"SOMEBODY HELP!"
His body twisted violently, arms and legs thrashing as though something inside him was struggling.
Veins bulged across his neck and forehead, thick, dark, pulsing uncontrollably.
His face turned red, so red it seemed on the verge of exploding.
He appeared to be enduring indescribable agony. Kyrian narrowed his eyes.
’Once again...’
’He struck a specific point.’
’The same as with the tree?’
’Or different?’
The pain lasted only a few seconds. Then... Another needle appeared. Another point was struck.
Silence.
The expression of suffering vanished as though it had never existed. The cultivator’s eyes widened, confused, surprised, disbelieving.
His Qi, which had previously fluctuated chaotically, suddenly stabilized.
"How..."
"What..."
"Who..."
He could not even finish the question. And then...
BOOM.
A wave of energy spread outward. The air trembled. Dust rose from the ground in a small whirlwind. The man had successfully broken through.
The nearby people widened their eyes. Shock. Joy. Disbelief.
"He did it!"
"But how?"
"Did someone do something?"
"I didn’t see anything!"
"Neither did I!"
"It was a miracle!"
"A miracle!"
"THE GODS INTERVENED!"
But before anyone could realize what had truly happened, before they looked in the right direction, before they noticed the mysterious man’s presence, he had already resumed walking.
As though nothing had happened.
Kyrian looked at his back. His mind worked rapidly.
’The first needle caused pain. It destabilized something. Forced the body to react.’
’The second restored balance.’
’It corrected the imbalance caused by the first. He manipulated that man’s body.’
’No.’
’He manipulated his meridians. He controlled the flow of Qi.’
’He forced the bottleneck to break.’
Kyrian’s curiosity transformed into desire. He wanted to learn.
A technique like that... was terrifying. And extraordinary.
It could kill. It could heal. It could strengthen. It could destroy.
’If I understand this...’
’Learn more about the human body...’
’About meridians...’
’About Qi...’
’I can incorporate it into my own techniques. I can create something new.’
Without saying anything, he continued following.
As the sun began to descend beyond the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, stretching the shadows of the buildings.
They finally arrived at their destination. A simple house.
Separated from the rest of the structures, isolated, discreet, forgotten.
Surrounded by a small stone wall no higher than Kyrian’s waist, made of uneven stones, some covered in moss.
A modest garden occupied part of the courtyard, not a decorative garden, but an herb garden.
Several medicinal herbs grew neatly in well-tended plots, with green leaves, white flowers, and exposed roots.
Nothing appeared extravagant. Only... functional.
The man opened the gate.
The wood creaked, a low, ancient sound. He stepped inside. Kyrian followed closely behind.
The interior of the house was organized. Simple.
A low table of dark wood, polished by time, occupied the center of the main room.
Several bookshelves, filled with books, lined the walls.
Jade bottles of various sizes, some containing colorful liquids and others fine powders, rested upon wooden shelves.
Needles, carefully arranged inside leather cases, gleamed beneath the light streaming through the window.
The man pointed toward a round cushion of dark blue velvet positioned before the low table.
"Sit."
Kyrian obeyed. Without hesitation.
The man disappeared into the small kitchen.
Kyrian heard the sound of water being poured from a jug into a kettle.
The click of a firestone being activated, a spiritual device used to heat liquids.
Soon, the sound of boiling water spread throughout the house. The gentle aroma of herbs began to fill the room.
It was not the strong medicinal scent of alchemical pills. It was something subtler. More natural.
Kyrian remained silent. Observing. Waiting.
Ten minutes later, the man returned.
Carrying a small black ceramic teapot with golden veins running through it, along with two delicate white porcelain cups painted with cherry blossoms.
He sat across from Kyrian. Calmly poured the tea.
As the liquid flowed, it revealed a pale green hue. Translucent. And alive.
Tiny golden strands floated upon its surface, as thin as hair, glimmering beneath the light.
"Drink."
Kyrian observed the cup for a few seconds.
His eyes, the violet eyes of lightning, analyzed the liquid.
No poison. No hostile intent. Nothing except... tea.
He picked up the cup. Drank.
The next instant... his eyes narrowed slightly.
A Qi within his body began circulating spontaneously. There was no need for absorption. No need for technique. It was as though the tea itself guided the energy through his meridians.
Gently. Naturally. Like a river following its course.
’What is this?’
’It isn’t a pill. It’s merely... tea.’
’But a powerful spiritual tea.’
Kyrian lowered the cup. For the first time since entering that house... something beyond curiosity emerged within him. Genuine surprise.
The man observed his reaction. Then, he raised his eyes. Gazing directly into Kyrian’s eyes.
His fingers rested calmly upon his own cup, not holding it, merely touching it. Then he asked.
"So..." His tone remained calm. But there was an expectation hidden beneath those words.
"What did you think?"
Kyrian remained silent for several seconds. Thinking. Recalling the tree. The needles. The cultivator who had broken through.
The mysterious man before him.
Then, he finally answered.
"Dangerous."
The man raised an eyebrow.
"And?"
Kyrian met his eyes, those calm, evaluating, ancient eyes.
"Extraordinary."
Silence filled the small house. Outside, the wind blew, carrying the scent of herbs from the garden.
The candles flickered, casting dancing shadows across the wooden walls.
And, for the first time since they had met...
A genuine smile appeared on the mysterious man’s face. Because he had heard exactly what he needed to hear.
