Emerald butterflies drifted through the sky, like clusters of flying crystals in the sunlight.
Mordo stared blankly at the butterflies passing his face. "Unbelievable! His Hoggoth's Hoary Host actually blocked the combined Bolts of Balthakk from dozens of people!?"
The same spell could produce vastly different effects in the hands of different sorcerers.
Leon had an inexhaustible supply of Genetic Energy supporting him.
As long as he wanted to, even turning a basic spell into something with planetary-level power would not be difficult.
"Why is everyone staring at the butterflies? Are we actually playing a turn-based fighting game?" Leon teased the stunned crowd.
"Then next up is my turn."
With a wave of his right hand, he used the same trick again and cast Images of Ikonn.
This time, however, he cast it on himself.
In the next moment, several thousand copies of Leon appeared, hovering in the air.
Each of them formed Fans of Oshtur in their hands, imbued with cutting power.
Mordo's forehead bulged as he watched. He quickly had the sorcerers cast protective shields again.
But over a thousand Leons cast cutting spells at once.
The protective shields shattered in the blink of an eye, breaking apart like enormous panes of glass.
What followed was simple.
Leon's magical clones fought two-on-one or three-on-one, subduing the remaining sorcerers in just a few exchanges.
"The Sorcerer Supreme challenge ends here."
Once even the most tenacious Mordo had been subdued by a clone,
Leon snapped his fingers, and every clone shattered alongside the Mirror Dimension.
The thousands of sorcerers returned to the training grounds once more.
Only, they were either disheveled and dusty, or staring blankly into space.
The disheveled ones were the few Leon had personally defeated.
The dazed ones were the majority of sorcerers who had been buried