"Mr. Ansue, please retreat. With me here, you cannot harm her."
Roland spoke calmly.
Ansue's smile froze on his face.
The cold wind blew, lifting his pale purple long hair and messily brushing across his cheeks.
Fury gnawed at his reason, and he stared at Roland with gritted teeth, saying, "Roland, you've chosen death. I hope you won't regret it at the moment of your demise."
He would naturally be angry; if Roland had betrayed, the chance of killing Sofia would have been a hundred percent.
Yet Roland chose to keep his word.
Just as Ansue was about to lose control, a voice as unpleasant as a screech owl emerged from the shadows.
"Ansue, you always like to flaunt your so-called wisdom, but ultimately, it's still force that decides victory or defeat."
It was mockery from the Sword Saint.
The face of Ansue the Wise Man turned purple, unable to retort.
He raised the Thunder Staff in his hand, quickly retreating out of the Flower Sea's range and began chanting a lengthy spell.
