National Guardian's Gone and We're Done

They were like the claws of a Demon, reaching out from an endless dark abyss,

carrying a chillingly strange and evil aura,

forming a stark contrast with the bright, scorching sea of golden flames.

The sight of each palm was horrifying, sending a deep chill through anyone who saw them.

These purplish-black Hand Seals varied in shape and size.

Some were as wide as cattail-leaf fans, while others were as slender as a baby’s hand.

They danced slowly in the air, like a swarm of cursed souls struggling in agony,

lost and searching for an escape.

Whenever these Hand Seals tried to touch the golden flames,

a strange and spectacular reaction would immediately occur.

The flames, like an enraged beast, would instantly swell up, erupting with an even more intense light,

like a series of small suns exploding,

mercilessly devouring the purplish-black Hand Seals.

Accompanied by a faint yet clearly audible crackling sound, the Hand Seals were like fragile pieces of paper meeting a blazing fire.

In an instant, they were completely incinerated into nothingness,

without a single trace left behind, as if they had never existed in this world at all.

Witnessing this scene, the crowd’s fear grew ever stronger.

They finally realized that these purplish-black Hand Seals were not natural phenomena,

but a bizarre ability unleashed by the mysterious being known as "the hand-head."

This hand-head was like an evil Wizard hidden in the depths of darkness, wielding terrifying Dark Magic.

At this moment, the hand-head changed his direction,

and set his sights on the villagers of Xia Shui Village.

He once again stretched out his thick, malformed arms

and began to make grasping motions in the air, the movements practiced and eerie,

as if snatching invisible souls from the air.

Chu He stood quietly to the side, making no move to stop him.

On one hand, he felt the past actions of the Xia Shui Village villagers were truly despicable.

They had cruelly sacrificed numerous innocent lives for their so-called rituals.

Perhaps people like that were not worth saving.

On the other hand,

he also wanted to take this opportunity to properly observe the mysteries of this hand-head’s power, so he could be better prepared to handle any greater crises that might arise later.

The villagers of Xia Shui Village, who had been immersed in a vague sense of fear and unease,

suddenly felt waves of bone-chillingly cold wind surge toward them from all directions, like a violent tide.

This cold wind was like a thousand icy needles, easily piercing their thin clothes

and seeping deep into their marrow, making them shiver involuntarily.

During the initial assault of this chill, however, the villagers didn’t immediately notice anything was wrong.

They just subconsciously hugged themselves, trying to ward off the cold.

Only the younger men and women, whose senses seemed sharper,

had faces that looked utterly horrified under the moonlight.

They saw something indescribable quietly descending upon those around them,

their eyes filled with terror and unease, their bodies beginning to tremble slightly.

Immediately after, a terrifying scene, as if from the Hell Abyss,

began to quietly unfold before everyone’s panicked eyes.

Every single villager, regardless of age or gender,

on all the exposed skin on their bodies—

whether it was the fragile carotid artery on their necks,

the facial muscles etched with terror,

or their shoulders, arms, wrists, legs, and waists—

none were spared from becoming breeding grounds for a bizarre phenomenon.

One by one, purplish-black palms, like the claws of a Demon extending from an endless dark abyss,

slowly emerged, carrying a chilling, irresistible, and evil power.

These palms, in an utterly horrifying manner, clung tightly to their bodies,

and began to squirm and twist continuously, looking like malevolent, living creatures.

They crawled wantonly across the villagers’ skin,

each squirm a declaration of Dark Power’s absolute control,

causing anyone who witnessed it to feel a fear that sent a chill from the soles of their feet to the top of their heads.

Chang Bailin, the chief of Xia Shui Village, who was usually quite authoritative in the village,

yet at this moment, he and his son, Chang Zimo,

appeared just as small and helpless before this terrifying power.

They did not escape the assault of this grim fate.

Their faces were instantly filled with shock and pain,

their expressions like they were watching the world’s most terrifying nightmare come true.

The purplish-black palms were like cold, hard shackles,

mercilessly locking all the joints in their bodies,

causing their bodies to begin to swing about violently, out of their control.

They were like marionettes manipulated by some invisible yet immensely powerful force, having lost all command over their own actions.

The villagers gradually came to the clear realization

that their bodies were being mercilessly seized by this unknown evil power from the depths of darkness.

At this moment, they were like a group of helpless children,

held fast by a powerful and evil adult, unable to break free no matter how they struggled.

They couldn’t escape the iron-like grip,

and could only allow this power to manipulate them at will.

Their once-steady steps began to falter,

like drunken men teetering on the verge of collapse in the darkness.

Then, faltering turned into stumbling,

each step seeming to take all their strength,

yet they were pulled along by an invisible force,

forced to keep moving forward.

Eventually, they completely lost the ability to move on their own.

One by one, as if under a dark spell,

they lifted their legs,

and began walking mechanically toward the area ahead, which was shrouded in a strange light.

At first, their steps were somewhat slow,

but as the evil power continued to drive them, their pace quickened,

until finally they were running like wild, runaway horses, their eyes vacant and despairing.

It was as if their souls had been torn out,

leaving only empty shells to carry out this terrifying command, unable to stop, and not daring to stop.

In this desperate situation, a mix of chaos and fear, the villagers’ actions became even more incomprehensible.

Driven by what seemed to be a collective madness,

they spontaneously began to climb up, stepping on each other’s shoulders.

Their bodies were pressed tightly together, every person’s muscles taut with strain.

A mixture of sweat and fearful tears soaked their clothes.

At this point, they had formed a human fortress built of flesh and blood.

Under the cold moonlight, this fortress looked exceptionally eerie and terrifying.

Every villager who was a part of it

was completely controlled by some mysterious and evil power.

Their faces showed nothing but despair and helplessness,

having already given up hope for survival, willingly becoming part of this dark ritual.

As the fortress grew taller, the villagers covered in purplish-black palms

became the foundation of this bizarre structure.

Their bodies trembled continuously under the immense weight,

each tremor accompanied by pained moans, yet they were powerless to break free from the evil palms that clung to them like shadows.

They could only watch, wide-eyed, as they became sacrifices in this horrific event.

And that towering fortress made of people,

eventually became like a monstrous, baring-fanged beast,

completely surrounding the hanged youth and the bizarre hand-head.

At this moment, the hand-head stood within this circle formed by living people,

a cold smirk on his face.

The smile was full of provocation and pride. He shouted at Chu He, "Mr. Chu, what will you do now?"

His voice echoed through the silent and terrifying night sky,

like a declaration of war against Chu He, and also a boast of his evil and mighty power.