"So that's how it is."
Saruman suddenly understood. Before long, his body, bones and all, vanished completely. Then, a brand-new Saruman emerged from the void, laughing heartily.
The old Saruman had looked like a man in his seventies. Now, he had become middle-aged, and his aura was clearly far more powerful than before. Even his hair and robes floated in the air.
Saruman had recovered the full strength he possessed during his days as a Maiar.
At that moment, Ganahta broke through the wall of flames and strode out. Seeing Saruman's new appearance, she snorted. Two figures appeared beside her out of thin air: the White Robe Mage Gandalf and the Elf Queen Galadriel.
Shuma-Gorath laughed when he saw this. "As expected of the Mechanical Demon King. You looked trapped in the flames, but you were secretly searching for a flaw in Chaos Space and pulling your helpers over."
"You villains can call for reinforcements, so naturally we righteous people can too."
Ganahta said, "Gandalf, deal with Saruman. Queen, handle the Balrog. I'll take care of this Sauron clone."
"A Sauron clone?"
Gandalf and Galadriel looked toward the eye on Grima Wormtongue's forehead. Their consciousness immediately twisted, and they hurriedly turned away, not daring to look any longer.
"This Evil Fiend from another world is terrifying."
Gandalf and Galadriel marveled inwardly, then each walked toward their respective opponents.
"Gandalf, you're dead today."
Rather than being alarmed by Gandalf's arrival, Saruman was delighted. He had long found this fellow unpleasant. What status did Gandalf have that gave him the nerve to wear the same robes as him?
"You recovered your strength?"
Gandalf stared at Saruman, his expression darkening. Then he gritted his teeth. Light shone from the middle finger of his right hand, and a red Ring appeared between his fingers.