He watched as countless humans frantically rushed toward the giant hand like moths to a flame.
Their outcome was invariably the same: instantly crushed by the enormous hand and turned to ashes, scattered to the winds.
It's unclear how many people perished until suddenly, from an unknown place, several elderly figures appeared, defiantly standing upon the firmament.
One of the elders showed a sorrowful expression and said to the crowd, "Our Celestial Race has always existed without conflict with the world. Yet, unexpectedly, when our ancestor of the Celestial Race transcended, we encountered such a calamity. We are useless, feel ashamed before our ancestor, and cannot continue to protect our race."
After saying this, surprisingly, he lifted his palm where a wound appeared out of nowhere on his wrist, and golden blood began to flow.
The elders beside him remained silent, mimicking his actions as blood began to flow from their wrists as well.
