For a time, his combat power surged. Amid the ferocious wyverns, he merely raised his hand and killed one outright. But the wyverns were already rampaging and crashing about wildly, and once shrouded in that white mist, their combat strength became even more formidable. The knight slashed several more wyverns at random before being surrounded. Within moments, he was torn to pieces.
The already crude formation became even more precarious. Everyone within it was wounded, and each had been poisoned. Though it would not kill them immediately, lasting ten minutes was nothing but a fool's dream.
Saga was furious. He understood that if he did not do something, every last one of his subordinates would perish here. He let out a long howl, gathering all the magic power in his body into the longsword in his hand. White flames actually condensed around its blade!
These were flames of order formed by the supreme laws. How could these magical beasts possibly contend against such power? Saga's body paused in midair, then he shouted violently. A crescent-shaped sword light shot forth, instantly cutting down seven or eight ferocious wyverns. Yet after that strike, the white flames dimmed considerably, as did the magical radiance around his body.
No matter how mindless the ferocious wyverns were, they still felt some fear. Instinctively, they began to shrink back.
But at that moment, a black shadow flashed across Saga's vision. It moved incredibly fast, streaking toward one of the jungle guardians.
"Number Three! Dodge!" Saga roared. The jungle guardians had always operated in groups of three. Number One was the scout, Number Two the main attacker, and Number Three the captain. Number Three was the most senior of the three and could even be called the strongest. Among the jungle guardians, there was a rule.
When