The hand had no heat because it had no existence.
Looking at it made Lin Ke’s optic nerves throb with a sharp, sickening ache, the kind of migraine that came from staring into an empty CRT monitor in an unlit server room. There were no shadows on the pale flesh. There was no texture, no skin grain, no blood vessels beneath the surface.
It was a blank void cut into the shape of five fingers, resting against the stone cliffs of Shard 09.
A senior captain from the Celestial Vanguard leapt from the stronghold, his flying sword roaring with six layers of condensed azure dragon-flame. “Monster! Dissolve beneath the True Fire of the Nine Heavens!”
The sword struck the pale white thumb.
There was no clang of metal. There was no explosion of flame.
The flying sword didn’t bounce, shatter, or melt. The instant the tip of the blade touched the white skin, the sword simply ceased to be. The azure fire vanished without smoke. The spiritual connection binding the weapon to the captain snapped so cleanly that the captain didn’t even recoil. He just hung in the air. He stared at empty space where his soul-bound treasure had existed a split second before.
