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Within the temple, a layer of frost had somehow formed, and the air abruptly turned cold and gloomy. At the same time, a wave of desolate sentiment swept over everyone, and Monk Tianxuan felt an unreasonable surge of regret, his eyes becoming hazy.

"Crack!"

An icy frost quickly formed and clung to his ankles, piercingly cold to the bone.

The old monk jolted and instantly came back to his senses, a vivid terror flickering in his eyes. For that brief moment, his mind had actually been controlled!

This was a situation all too familiar to him, the manifestation often seen when the Power of Faith from the Buddhist Sect attempted to convert others. But just now, he had been affected as well—not by conversion, but by his mind sinking into that strange sentiment, even harboring a fleeting thought of self-harm. It was hard to imagine what the spectacle would have been like if he had sunk deeper without realizing it.