"Thud, thud."
The dull, powerful knocking sounded stranger the longer they listened. By the end, every knock seemed to strike at everyone's heart, and even the Kings had the illusion that their blood was flowing faster.
"What the hell is this?!"
A blonde female Half-King from the Saints Organization suddenly cried out, her voice shrill and tinged with horror.
Everyone looked over and saw the female Half-King staring down at her lower abdomen, her face filled with panic.
There was a blood-red handprint there, as though someone had just slapped her.
"Peiluo'er, what happened?"
A Three-Step King from the Saints Organization asked.
But Queto, the Sixth-Step King, merely stared fixedly at Peiluo'er, his beard trembling incessantly, too shocked to utter a word.
"Lord Duomo, I felt as though someone touched my stomach, but when I came to my senses, there was nothing there. All I saw was this bloody handprint."
The female Half-King spoke in alarm. "You and Lord Queto were both here. Did you see anything?"
Duomo frowned.
The old man beside him suddenly grabbed his shoulder and roared, "Back away!"
Then his powerful aura surged, carrying all the Saints Organization's experts away from the spot and leaving Peiluo'er alone.
"My lords, did I do something wrong? Why are you doing this?"
She asked, somewhat at a loss.
"Peiluo'er, you did nothing wrong, but I'm sorry. You're too dangerous right now," Queto said coldly, lingering fear in his voice.
"I was less than three meters away from you just now. At that distance, even if His Holiness the Holy Lord came in person, he couldn't touch you and leave silently without my noticing a thing."
The Holy Lord he mentioned was the leader of the Saints Organization, a peerless expert at the Nine-Step King level.
"And the most terrifying