Hearing the shriek that entered the soul, all the students in the library covered their heads in pain, and a strange negative mood began to rise in the hearts of some senior wizards.
"I don't know how lofty the earth is, but I still influence other people here. I don't pay attention to me at all."
"Oh, my God, I'm wrong. Look at my sickle!"
The voice is still on.
Sun Yuan swung his hands, and the huge sickle aimed at the grey fog figure and cut it down.
Aware of the danger coming on the head, the mutant dementor immediately began to struggle, and the chains that bound it were also filled with the happiness of a large number of small wizards in the library