"How many clones can you conjure?" Guan Qing asked impatiently.
"As many as you need," Qin He said with a faint smile.
As soon as the words fell, he snapped his fingers. The Runes hovering above his palm instantly turned into fine motes of spiritual light and scattered away.
In the next instant, on the open ground a dozen paces from the crowd, at least a thousand densely packed figures rose from the earth, filling every gap around them.
Guan Qing, Zhao Yan, and Li Lie were overjoyed at the sight.
Clone Talismans were hardly rare high-grade talismans; they could be found everywhere in the cultivation world. Yet no one had ever seen a talisman alone conjure more than a thousand clones.
Everyone silently weighed the matter in their hearts. Talismanic clones like these were useless against cultivators above the Other Shore Realm, so ordinary cultivators rarely wasted Spirit Stones acquiring them.
The world knew that clones capable of entering battle and bearing combat strength could never be produced by talismans. Only by painstakingly cultivating the Origin Clone Technique could one succeed.
Yet no one knew that Qin He had used the Clone Technique from beginning to end. That external Rune, that so-called Clone Talisman, had always been nothing more than a smokescreen. Whether the talisman existed or not had no effect on the technique.
"Go!"
Qin He shouted in a low voice.
Over a thousand clones instantly drew into formation, transforming into a smooth spherical tide. Sweeping up fine motes of spiritual light, they crashed straight toward the hazy gray circle of dust in the distance.
In only a few breaths, the wave of clones smashed violently against the boundary of the dust ruins. In an instant, annihilating points of light filled the sky, fine white flashes spreading across