"You're pretty good at talking tough. You should worry about your own life instead, mongrel." Clad in crimson armor and hovering in the sky, Shalltear taunted him frivolously. Whether in speed or strength, she was among the best of the level-one-hundred Guardians. She had also left a deep impression on Leman Russ; quite a few of the old wolves who had followed him into this war had died by Shalltear's hand.
Compared to Demiurge, whom he had crushed to death before, it would take Leman Russ more than ten extra seconds to force Shalltear into an inescapable corner and crush her in one hand.
But would he really get that chance?
Leman Russ glanced at the others surrounding him. Albedo in black armor and Cocytus, clad in icy blue carapace, watched his every move. Neither could threaten Leman Russ's life, but they could use teleportation scrolls to intercept his attacks in an emergency and save the others.
They could do that thanks to Mare, who had built the defensive line at the Far Eastern Cliff. That dark elf had planted magical formations beneath nearly every inch of this land, making it easier for the Guardians to fight at their full potential.
Not to mention Demiurge and Aura in the distance. Their presence made Leman Russ feel as if he were not fighting a war, but had become a dungeon boss from an ancient Terra game. His stats might have been high, but a well-coordinated raid party had him pinned down so badly that he could not reduce their numbers no matter how long they fought.
And then there were those True Dragon Lords... Their threat level was no lower than that of these Guardians. Wild Magic, powered by souls, was even more destructive than super-tier magic.
How was he supposed