Yang Yong bit his finger open. Blood welled out, and he smeared it hard across the top of one doll's head.
Bang!
The doll abruptly turned pitch-black, as though something profoundly ominous had been poured into it. Then it exploded with a bang, fragments scattering as it turned into a cloud of black dust.
Fifty percent of the damage to Yang Yong was transferred away.
The pressure that had almost torn his entire body apart suddenly eased. He gasped for breath, his chest rasping like a set of bellows.
The others struck again, unleashing another round of concentrated attacks.
But...
This time, despair came even faster.
All their attacks struck that enormous skeletal hand like a few pebbles thrown at a mountain. They failed to hold it back for even half a second.
The hand kept coming, without so much as a pause.
It drew closer and closer.
Close enough that Yang Yong could make out the fine patterns on those skeletal knuckles.
Close enough that he could feel the chill radiating from it, a chill that did not belong to the living.
Close enough to give him an illusion...
Before the hand even touched him, his blood had already begun to freeze.
The enormous hand was about to seize the Steam Train.
A chill shot from Yang Yong's tailbone straight to the crown of his head.
He was just about to grit his teeth and deploy the Nine Nether Yuanchen White Bone Ring again.
Suddenly, a talisman flew out.
It looked utterly unremarkable, nothing more than a talisman drawn in cinnabar on yellow paper, with no flickering spiritual light or any astonishing manifestations.
Ordinarily, no one would have given it a second glance even if it had been tossed on the ground.
But Yang Yong's heart clenched...
It was