The spell settled over the field like a change in pressure, and the space within it stopped answering to reality.
Four figures materialized in front of Silver's and his soldiers' positions, each projected from a different tail.
They were all Raelor. Silver's youngest son, the foxkin prince who had challenged the Primordial Villain to a formal duel at the Beastman Confederation summit and lasted exactly one punch.
Quinlan shattered the boy's ribs with a single closed fist, and the prodigy who'd been the pride of the Inazuki bloodline was carried off the grounds on a stretcher.
That was many months ago, yet the prince never recovered.
But the four Raelors standing in front of Silver's line looked nothing like a broken warrior.
They wore his face, his build, his ears, but everything else was precision-built to humiliate.
Gone was any trace of princely dignity.
