Surviving In A Martial Arts World To Become A Saint

Chen Qing steadied himself and looked down.

From the depths of the mine shaft that the Four Element Formation had been suppressing, a large pit had blasted open at its center to reveal an ancient cave roughly three zhang across.

The four walls of the cave were covered in a layer of dark blue-green prohibition light, the surface of that light flowing with dense rows of inscriptions.

The prohibition had already been broken open by roughly seven or eight parts. The surface of the light curtain was covered in cracks spreading like spider webs.

Before the prohibition, a figure stood suspended in the air.

That person was of medium build, with a flicker of urgency in their eyes.

The black Dao Principles coiling around them were thick as ink. As they churned, they faintly condensed into vague outlines resembling venomous snakes, coiling and flickering at the sleeves.

Peak third-layer Primordial Spirit realm.

Chen Qing's gaze fell on this person's hands, which were actively forming seals.