Under the vast night sky, the highland rift region's mounds stood like ancient beasts, quietly watching their surroundings with a mysterious and dangerous aura. In the moonlight, they appeared even more frightening. The area was silent, as if devoid of life, with only an open campsite illuminated, looking so tiny amidst the deep, dark wilderness.
A figure burst out from the woods, crouching low and charging forward like a foraging leopard. Its bent waist waved smoothly with each stride, advancing several hundred meters in a few quick leaps and bounds, stopping behind a slightly raised mound, vigilantly watching the front. Its cold eyes, like starlight high in the sky, shone sharply and brightly, revealing it to be Ghost Hand.
