The elder observed the white mist that enveloped the entire group, his eyes half-narrowed in an expression that wavered between reluctant surprise and poorly concealed irritation.
The visible relief among the cultivators, deep sighs, shoulders relaxing, breathing becoming calr, only increased his discontent.
"Tsc."
The low sound escaped his mouth, almost a grunt of disapproval. He said nothing more, but the disdain was as clear as crystal water. He did not want to admit, perhaps not even to himself, that Kyrian’s help was being extrely useful to the entire group.
Kyrian noticed the hostility.
It was not open anger. There was no killing intent or desire for conflict. It was sothing smaller, more petty. The kind of antipathy born from wounded pride. The elder did not like being outdone, especially not by soone younger and of seemingly inferior cultivation.
Without changing his cold expression, Kyrian adjusted his intent.
The area of ice Qi surrounding the group receded slightly in a specific direction. The cold mist continued protecting all the cultivators, creating a comfortable refuge in the middle of the volcanic hell, enveloping each of them in a subtle layer of freshness that contrasted with the oppressive heat.
The elder was deliberately left out.
The older man felt the change imdiately. The extre heat pressed against him with full force again, as if a protective wall had been removed only around him.
A drop of sweat ran down his temple, sothing rare for soone at the fourth stage of the Core Formation Realm, accustod to controlling his own body with precision.
He shot a sharp look at Kyrian, but the young man with snowflake-shaped eyes did not even turn his face in his direction. He simply continued walking, his expression serene, as if nothing had happened.
The elder ground his teeth.
He did not complain. Pride would not allow it. How could he ask for sothing he had just disdained monts before?
He simply kept walking, his fire Qi barrier working more intensely to compensate for the absence of the cold mist.
...
The group moved forward, venturing deeper into the Interdiate Area of the Great Volcano.
This ti, sothing had changed in the group’s dynamic.
The disciples naturally made space for Kyrian. He walked just behind the elder, almost beside him, occupying a position that previously belonged to Pan Zheng or other more experienced disciples.
No one questioned it.
After the displays of strength, the ice spike that pierced the Armored Mole, the barriers that blocked jets of fire, and the cold mist that protected them from the heat, even the most skeptical recognized that he deserved to be there.
Pan Zheng discreetly approached Kyrian as they climbed a cracked slope where slow, glowing lava flowed. The terrain was unstable, and every step required caution.
"Kyrian..." he began, his voice low so the others would not hear.
"You must be spending a large amount of Qi to protect yourself and all of us. If you need to rest, let know. I have so good-quality Qi recovery pills."
Kyrian looked at him for a mont.
The young man in the scarlet robe seed genuinely concerned. It was not just the fear of losing a useful ally, there was sothing more there.
Respect, admiration, and sothing close to camaraderie. Even though he was the one who had hired Kyrian’s services, Pan Zheng did not treat the relationship as a simple business transaction.
Kyrian nodded briefly.
"That won’t be necessary. My consumption isn’t high."
It was true. With two ford cores, his Qi reserves were imnse, far greater than those of a normal first-stage cultivator.
The intent of ice made his Qi pure and efficient, and the perfect control of his ice eyes allowed him to maintain the cooled area without excessive effort.
He could sustain that for days without truly getting tired.
Pan Zheng seed relieved, but he continued to watch Kyrian with growing admiration. There was sothing about that man, his strange eyes, his supernatural calm, the way he faced the infernal heat as if it were a cool breeze, that deeply intrigued him.
...
The following hours were filled with steady progress and frequent battles.
In the Interdiate Area, the beasts were far more nurous and powerful than in the outer region. The intense heat and the density of fire Qi created a perfect environnt for creatures adapted to extre conditions.
A Blazing Obsidian Scorpion attacked the center of the group.
The creature was enormous, its body asuring more than four ters in length, and its black carapace shone like polished glass. Its tail, raised in an attack stance, spat a fiery venom that burned everything in its path.
The elder was forced to fight seriously. His flaming palm techniques exploded against the scorpion’s carapace, and after several intense blows, he managed to split the creature in half. Half of the beast’s body fell to one side, the other half to the other, still twitching for a few seconds before going still.
Soon after, a pair of Winged Lava Eagles dove from the smoke-darkened sky.
The birds were majestic and terrifying, their feathers were not feathers but blades of incandescent volcanic rock, and their claws glowed with such intense heat that the air around them distorted.
They targeted the weaker disciples, those in the interdiate stages of Qi Liberation.
Kyrian raised his hand.
An ice barrier ford in the air, a translucent and gleaming surface that expanded rapidly, covering the disciples like an invisible shield. The eagles collided against the barrier, their flaming claws hissing violently against the ice. Vapor exploded in all directions.
One of the eagles recoiled, confused. The other persisted.
Kyrian froze its wings mid-flight.
The ice spread through the bird’s rock-feathers like a silver plague, making them heavy and brittle. The eagle tried to flap its wings, but they did not respond. It fell like a stone, shattering against the rocks below with a wet sound.
The second eagle, seeing the fate of its companion, retreated and disappeared into the smoke.
On another occasion, the group almost fell into a natural trap.
The ground gave way beneath the feet of three disciples, revealing a pit of bubbling magma that emitted such intense heat that the air around it trembled. The disciples scread, their arms flailing in the void, already feeling the magma’s heat burning through their Qi barriers.
Kyrian reacted instantly.
Threads of icy Qi extended from his hand like tendrils of white light. They wrapped around the three disciples’ waists, arms, and legs, pulling them back to solid ground with a sharp and precise motion.
The magma, sensing the ice Qi, reacted violently. An explosion of white, scalding vapor burst from the pit, obscuring everyone’s vision for a few seconds.
When the vapor dissipated, the disciples were lying on the ground, panting, but alive.
"Thank you..." one of them murmured, still dazed.
Kyrian did not respond. He simply kept walking.
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