A dense murky gray mana violently erupted from the woman's solar plexus.
It didn't disperse into the hot air… Instead, the heavy oily magical energy spilled directly downward like a knocked-over bucket of tar, sinking straight into the dark silhouette cast by the artificial sunlight above.
Instantly, the shadow on the dirt floor split.
It peeled apart with a sickening, wet shhhk-shhhk sound, dividing into three distinct three-dimensional geometric masses.
Three fully formed clones made of compressed solid gray mana stepped directly out of the subsurface darkness.
They were identical, hardened replicas of the rugged border ruffian, down to the crudely patched leather armor and the jagged, notched naval cutlasses resting in their grips.
Lyra's pupils constricted.
'Unique duplication magic?' her brain registered instantly. The mana density in those constructs is solid enough to displace air.'
