Chapter 557: Ascetic Practitioners and Worshippers

After gathering his thoughts, Lin An sped up again.

The so-called Great Xia Imperial City was still about a day's journey away.

Calculating with the current maximum speed of 330 meters per second and the regular sprint speed of 300 meters per second.

The actual distance was roughly around 22,000 kilometers.

Fortunately, after his physique was strengthened to the limit, he could maintain a high-speed sprint state around the clock; otherwise he truly wouldn't know what to do.

He only brought an off-road vehicle and a few mountain motorcycles inside the ring.

If he relied solely on these tools, the journey would take half a month.

"Captain Lin..."

"I really didn't expect that the effect of strengthening our physiques would be just running away..."

All the way sprinting, Xiong Hanzi's face was full of resentment.

Running by day, running by night, even running with eyes closed while sleeping.

When he got really irritable, he simply activated Berserk Charge for a speed boost.

"Next time, we must definitely install a fighter jet in the ring."

"If we encounter this situation again, flying a fighter jet with legs up would be awesome!"

"Damn it, this damn Secret Realm is so huge!!"

Lin An helplessly glanced at the complaining Xiong Hanzi and said nothing.

He had miscalculated.

Before setting out, he prepared a large amount of supplies, even moving an entire ammunition depot, filling the ring to the brim.

But who could have imagined that after entering the Secret Realm, they'd have to rush...

This Secret Realm is truly strange.

He glanced at the only updated Secret Realm information.

【Secret Realm: ***World, current exploration 19%.】

【Unlocked: Desolate Village Incident.】

【Triggered: Kite Hero.】

The following entries were nothing special, but the ***World marked with asterisks left him somewhat puzzled.

Does the system also do censorship?

Just like when checking the sandworm's panel, this world's name cannot be displayed.

He had originally thought the entire Secret Realm was only as big as the Desolate Village.

Its name was Desolate Village Old Corpse.

In the silent rush, the sky grew dim again.

While moving at high speed.

Besides initially observing the world's terrain, he and Zhang Tie grew too lazy to keep looking after a while.

Barren, dim, with shattered rocks scattered everywhere.

An endless plain where it was rare to see a few small towns.

Setting out from the Northern Frontier, there weren't many people along the way.

Occasionally they'd encounter a few caravans, but the two simply passed by, departing amid a chorus of startled shouts and tension.

Suddenly.

Zhang Tie's footsteps faltered.

"Captain Lin, it looks like there are a few people kneeling up ahead."

Under the overcast sky, Lin An unexpectedly looked toward the distance.

He also noticed that there were people there.

Ordinary people wouldn't catch his attention, but this time was different.

Only in the distance did he see several black dots, arranged in a line like ants.

They wore short clothes made of rough hemp.

Everyone faced the same direction, performing three kneelings and nine kowtows as they slowly advanced.

Watching this eerie scene, Lin An also unconsciously slowed his speed.

That was...

Ascetic Practitioners?

Instinctively, Lin An recalled the description of Ascetic Practitioners given by the soldiers.

Merely extending his spiritual sense, he detected no special spiritual fluctuations.

Perhaps the distance was too great.

In this Secret Realm, when the distance is slightly far, spiritual perception suffers severe hindrance.

With a thought,

"Zhang Tie! Get closer to observe! Be careful!"

"Bang!!"

He leapt up.

After noticing the abnormality ahead,

Following his signal, Zhang Tie leapt over and directly blocked the front of the group.

As if descending from the heavens.

The impact of the fall kicked up stones everywhere, carving out a deep pit.

Zhang Tie, tall and broad like an iron wall, stood blatantly before the crowd.

Unexpected.

Xiong Hanzi had expected this group to shout and panic like the people he'd encountered before, at least growing nervous.

But this eerie group, appearing to be ascetic practitioners, showed no reaction whatsoever.

As if they were nothing.

The man kneeling at the front had dry lips and a deathly gray pallor as he rose numb.

As if he hadn't seen Zhang Tie before him, he mechanically repeated the kowtow.

All that could be seen was him swaying as he stood, then raising both hands high.

Cracked skin was covered with dried grime, the fissures black.

He lifted his head, then knelt.

He then pressed his body hard against the protruding stones on the ground, rubbing forward.

The stones scraped open his wounds.

These movements, as if repeated millions of times, were standard and mechanical.

His expression was solemn.

Lin An, having rushed to Xiong Hanzi's side, gazed solemnly at the troop.

These people... were covered in wounds.

His arrival, like Zhang Tie's, elicited no reaction from the troop.

Their existence meant nothing to these ascetic practitioners, like air.

Seeing the numb crowd before him, Zhang Tie couldn't help but stare.

"Damn it, are these people idiots?"

He got close enough.

He could smell the strong stench of decay coming from the ascetic practitioners.

It was the smell from wounds constantly tearing, healing, and festering.

It reeked like a zombie.

Tiny stones were embedded in the wounds, flesh and blood tones covered by pus.

Many had wounds ulcerated to the bone; some swayed, their faces unnaturally flushed.

It looked like an infection-induced high fever.

As if they felt no pain.

Ignoring the sharp ground beneath them, they inched forward by rubbing their bodies.

Among them, Xiong Hanzi even saw a fourteen‑ or fifteen‑year‑old child, hair disheveled and face grimy.

The child's right leg was twisted like a braid and slung behind his back.

He stood on one leg, leaning on a stick he'd picked up somewhere, supporting his emaciated frame.

Even so, he performed the kowtow with a blank expression.

Even though standing up made him fall each time, he still swayed, refusing to skip any step.

"Doesn't it hurt!? Damn it, these people are crazy!"

"What the hell are they up to!?"

I've never seen a scene like this.

To Xiong Hanzi, these people were like zombies, devoid of any human feeling.

He stood to the side, observing for a moment.

"Practice... cultivation?"

"Or is it about tempering oneself?"

Lin An frowned slightly, suddenly recalling the worshippers of the real world.

Too similar.

The ascetic practitioners before him resembled Tibetan pilgrims on their worship journeys.

Three kneelings, nine kowtows, taking years, step by step toward the temple to worship.

They squandered their fortunes; even if they died on the road, they would still fervently press on.