Far off in the distance, something unsettling appeared, slowly drifting toward the Lu Clan's domain. At first, it was just a speck in the sky, but it grew larger and more ominous with every passing moment.
It wasn't just any object—it was a colossal severed right hand. The hand was grotesque, its flesh a sickly gray, and its presence undeniably demonic. Strange symbols were etched into its skin, not drawn but sewn into the flesh with glowing metal or stone threads. The threads pulsed rhythmically, like a monstrous heartbeat.
On the palm of the hand rested something that wasn't small, nor was it just an object. It was a palace, serene yet majestic, glowing like jade and gold. Inside the palace, on the highest balcony, stood an old man.
