Before the Royal Capital.
The city walls towered high, stretching across the land like a dragon.
Jiang Ning glanced at the city wall ahead, then turned and left.
Just before the Martial Saint left, he had once asked him to go over for a visit. He had not forgotten.
The next moment.
Like a fleeting shadow, he crossed high mountains and great rivers, arriving in an instant at the top of that mountain peak that rose like a Divine Sword.
Lifting his head to look above, he could sense the entrance to the grotto-heaven hanging high overhead.
That entrance appeared in his eyes with incomparable clarity.
He was certain that if he wished, without needing anyone's consent, he could force his way into these Blessed Grotto-heavens.
As the thought flashed through his mind, he instantly thought of the Martial Saint.
If even he, with his current ability, could do this, then there was no doubt that the Martial Saint could do it even more easily.
As for the Martial Saint's strength, in the past, his own strength had been far too weak, and he had had no concept of it.
Added to that, the Martial Saint had rarely struck, so he had even less concrete understanding.
But this time was different.
With only a Spirit Body, he had slain with one move a flood dragon with nearly five Thousand Years of Cultivation, one that had almost transformed into a true dragon.
Facing the lord of the Demon Country, an existence known as the Demon Emperor, he had only thrown three punches before defeating him.
From these two crisp, clean battles, he could imagine the Martial Saint's strength. It was a power that Martial Artists under heaven could not comprehend.
But even so, despite possessing such strength, the Martial Saint had