Thousand Faces lowered his gaze and examined himself, the aura around him boiling like a storm-tossed sea. His physical form twisted subtly, bones tightening, muscles sharpening—his body transforming as if reforged in an unseen furnace.
In merely a breath, his cultivation surged violently upward, his realm stabilizing at the late stage of the Upper Supreme Realm.
Although the heightened state would only last half an hour, for him, that was more than enough.
Enough to kill Asher.
Enough to kill Ethan.
"Shadow Clone."
Thousand Faces pressed both palms together, and the shadow energy on his body surged wildly.
Behind him, the darkness rippled, condensed, and rose. A black figure stepped out of the wavering shadow—first an outline, then flesh, and finally a perfect duplicate of Thousand Faces himself.
Appearance, aura, posture—identical.
Without careful observation, even a Supreme Realm expert would be unable to distinguish clone from original.
