"What the hell is going on? Whose hand is that?" Aston wondered in shock.
Just moments ago, he had felt Galian's strength and aura surge to an overwhelming level, as if they were about to explode with unstoppable momentum.
Aston's skin crawled. If he had to face Galian in that state, his life would surely be at risk.
But then, out of nowhere, a massive hand appeared and slammed into Galian, hurling him away until his figure vanished from sight.
With cautious steps, Aston moved forward. The spot where Galian had stood was now a gaping hole, five meters deep.
Inside it, Galian lay motionless.
Is he dead? Aston muttered under his breath.
Curiosity got the better of him. He leapt down into the pit and rolled Galian's body over—lifeless.
His armor was shattered, fragments piercing through flesh. Blood seeped from several wounds, painting a gruesome sight.
"Huh…" Aston let out a soft sigh. "Who does that giant hand belong to? Why would that figure help me and my troops?"
