In the training grounds of the Black Wind Stronghold, the moonlight was hazy, like a thin veil gently covering this ancient land, casting a shadowy light. The torches all around flickered unsteadily in the night wind, the flames leaping like ghosts, seemingly ready to extinguish at any moment, enveloping the ancient village in a deathly silence.
The stone path in the training grounds felt exceedingly cold and hard, each step upon it was like stepping on an icy tombstone, echoing with a heavy and muffled sound. In the distance, a few dilapidated houses swayed in the night wind, the creaking sound resembling the ghost of the Black Wind Stronghold's past glory, quietly narrating the buried past.
The White Tiger Altar Master, Shen Ye Xiao, wore a black robe that seemed to merge with the night, hiding his figure within, revealing only a pair of cold, gleaming eyes like a beast lurking in the darkness, exuding a sense of danger, ready to strike.
