Surviving In A Martial Arts World To Become A Saint

Zhang Longhu and Chen Youning passed through the heavily guarded corridors, ascending the stairs, and finally arrived at the top floor of the Black Dragon Tower.

The top floor was not an enclosed tower chamber, but rather an observation platform open on all sides, where the fierce sea wind tore the clouds and mist into wisps.

From here, gazing into the distance, the vast and boundless azure sea and the scattered islands came into full view, broadening one's heart and mind.

At the center of the observation platform, a figure sat cross-legged with their back to them, facing the vast ocean.

That figure was unusually short, wearing a well-fitted black robe. From the back alone, they appeared no different from a seven or eight-year-old child.

Zhang Longhu and Chen Youning walked to a few steps behind the figure and stopped, bowing respectfully.

"Master."

That diminutive figure, hearing their voices, slowly turned around.

Their features were childlike and tender, skin smooth, yet their eyes were as deep as an abyss.