"These two have decided to join the fight.", Salamandor calmly reflected.
As expected, the Goddess of Mana was already proving to be an issue. Her insight to the workings of this World's rules was something Salamandor himself had to lower his head in response to. Even he didn't have such a fine grasp on how mana worked.
She was a genius, and fit every description of the word. The fact that she was able to figure out the secret on how he controlled his clones was a fantastic testament. She didn't use overwhelming firepower, but instead attacked in a more subtle way. It was dangerous.
The other. . . was somebody Salamandor couldn't quite get a grasp on. In comparison Wrock, who was someone with strength outside of the World, was unapologetically showcasing his strength. A man who held full confidence in himself. That way of carrying himself reminded Salamandor of Averoth. Only the strong had the right to be so confident.
