But what truly caught Jeming's attention was that, unlike other Eighth Level Wizards he had met, he could not sense this person's presence at all.
Oston was clearly standing on the platform, only a few dozen meters away, yet Jeming couldn't capture any information about this person.
No, it's even more thorough than that.
"Power projection, or perhaps a clone?" Jeming thought to himself, "Seems like there's something keeping him occupied temporarily."
An Eighth Level Wizard's power level is well established; unless there are specific hidden laws or deliberate concealment, their presence could never reach such an effect.
Jeming couldn't even confirm whether Oston was looking at him.
The man's gaze was as bland as a glass of water, lacking any focus, yet seemingly observing everyone present simultaneously.
"Ladies and gentlemen."
Oston began to speak.
The voice wasn't loud, yet it clearly reached the ears of every Wizard present, as if he were speaking right next to you.
