The crowd in the clearing fell silent in an instant. This silence was completely different from the silence during the ritual.
The earlier silence had been solemn and prepared. Everyone had known what they were doing and what would happen next.
Now the silence was panicked and bewildered. Everyone froze in place. Some stood with their mouths hanging open, some took half a step back, and some instinctively grabbed the arm of the person beside them.
The Chief's expression changed. He turned to look at the black mist that had drifted past him and continued onward. All the ease and warmth vanished from his face, replaced by a shock and bewilderment they had never seen before.
He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.
He lifted his hand slightly, as though he wanted to stop it but did not dare. His hand hung in midair for two breaths before slowly lowering again. Deputy Chief Tie Xiong reacted a little faster.
He stepped forward, placing himself ahead of the Chief and to one side. His right hand settled on the saber hilt at his waist, but his fingers merely rested there. He did not draw it.
His gaze locked onto the black mist. His brow lowered further, the veins at his temples bulged slightly, and his lips pressed into a thin line.
He did not move either. He simply stood there, watching the direction the black mist was moving, as though judging where it intended to go-or waiting for the Chief's command. But the Chief said nothing.
The black mist continued drifting forward. It swept past the front row of the crowd, and the people there involuntarily moved aside. Some bent down, some backed away, and some pulled those beside them backward.
The