Wilfric's voice rang like steel:
"Clone Secret Technique—Unbreakable illusion multiple!"
A chilling hush swept over the arena.
Celia's eyes narrowed. "What is this…?"
Without waiting, she sprinted forward, sword blazing with white and red fire. "Then I'll end this—right here!" she cried.
Her blade cut clean through his form—shhhh!
Dust scattered. Her eyes widened.
"What—?"
Wilfric was gone.
She spun around—only to see another Wilfric behind her. Then another. Then another. Within seconds, ten identical shadows stood around her, swords gleaming, each one moving with the same deadly rhythm.
The crowd erupted into panic and awe.
"Is this an illusion?!" someone shouted.
"No… those are afterimages," another corrected. "He's moving so fast, the eye can't follow!"
Celia gritted her teeth, raising her flaming sword high. Which one is the real him?
She tightened her stance, sweat sliding down her cheek.
This… this is going to be a problem.
