The Ascetics' arms and thighs were broken at strange angles. Lin Feng even saw one with an arrow through his neck.
From his angle, it looked as though it had pierced a vein and his windpipe.
Even so, he was alive.
His eyes were as still as water.
This was how they practiced. They tortured themselves—using that torment to attain inner peace.
Through unbearable physical pain, they reached a spiritual state capable of transcendence.
During the Song Dynasty and earlier, some foreign monks had spread their teachings this way, breaking their arms or piercing their cheeks before crowds without so much as flinching. Some even held an arm raised for decades without moving, deforming their bodies to demonstrate their devotion to the Buddha.
Stories of surviving beheading and regrowing severed limbs were also common among them.
The scholar-officials of the Song Dynasty had found them quite distasteful.
Now, on a small island in the South Seas, Lin Feng encountered Ascetics dressed in nothing but cloth wrapped around their bodies. Whatever they had smeared over themselves made them look exceptionally bright.
Almost reflective.
There seemed to be an extremely unsettling power within their bodies. Its effects were evident in the Hunting Dogs on the verge of losing control.
And in the Demon-Binding Rope between Lin Feng's brows.
The Demon-Binding Rope was practically bursting out of his brow, eager to strike these Ascetics hard!
Lin Feng casually raised a hand to his brow and stroked it calmly, urging the Demon-Binding Rope not to emerge when it shouldn't.
But while Lin Feng could restrain the Demon-Binding Rope in his brow,
The Hunting Dogs were not so easily dealt with.
Left with no choice, the thugs following Stink kept blowing their Bone Whistles, attempting to forcibly suppress the Hunting Dogs.
The Hunting Dogs could