The clones shot the fireballs—each one only slightly smaller than Asqa's usual blasts, but still blazing with terrifying heat and compressed mahic power.
To the elite soldiers, the slight difference in size meant nothing. What mattered was power—and they could feel it, raw and lethal, in every orb of fire that streaking toward them.
Worse yet, they were fired from close range, by dozens of casters at once.
A wave of brilliant fire roared across the battlefield.
Some soldiers barely had time to raise their enchanted shields before the explosions hit. A cluster of three warriors at the front were engulfed in the fireballs' cores. Their armor melted in seconds, divine enchantments shattering like brittle glass. Their screams were brief before silence took them.
Others nearby were luckier, but not by much. Two were blasted backward, their bodies trailing smoke as they crashed into the palace walls, flames still clinging to their cloaks and skin.
