Just as Su Shijun had guessed, the huge hand descending from the sky had not been targeting the school or these young wizards.
But before it left, Zheng Qing could not tell whether it was an illusion, yet he felt that several eyeballs of varying sizes seemed to sprout from that Giant Hand. They rolled and glanced sideways, sizing him up from top to bottom—some of them even seemed to grow mouths and ears, whispering among themselves.
The sight was absurd beyond words.
Of course, it might have been nothing more than his imagination. After all, the mere existence of that "hand" already lay beyond the comprehension of many people, himself included. It was difficult to determine whether what he had "seen" was truly real.
The crisis was over.
Yet the shattered clouds in the sky refused to close for a long time. The long, narrow hole left by the Giant Hand's passage looked like a giant from myth opening its eyes wide to gaze down upon the world. Brilliant sunlight pierced through the swirling clouds and mist, bathing the once-gloomy Silent Forest in light.
The faint red phantom of a small mountain formed by the protective spell faded away.
The young wizards followed Su Shijun to the edge of the place where the Giant Hand had finally fallen.
All that remained where the Mutated Ogre had stood was an irregular deep pit. Its edges looked as though they had been ravaged by lightning and wildfire together, scorched black and giving off an unsettlingly complicated stench: burnt smells, fishy smells, and another kind of foul fragrance that was difficult to describe. The last was especially awful. Zheng Qing felt as if he were smelling stinky mandarin fish, stinky tofu, and blue cheese all mixed together. It was indescribable in the