The sky above me was thundering again, even more violently than just now. Philip's voice rose and he could faintly hear him chanting. Some ancient language, is it Egyptian, Babylonian? None of that mattered, and Andrew could clearly feel the meaning of every word, the words of hatred and malice, the words of killing.

Andrew's trembling became more pronounced, was this just the effect of the third eye?Did so much negative energy around Andrew react to Andrew?

No, Andrew was just scared. Andrew did not dare to step out of his hiding place under the platform and face the leader of the Slimy Bada army that was rampaging through the room. From here, you can feel his strength, his self-confidence, and the willpower that affects every plant and tree here with a certain hatred. Andrew is as scared as a child facing a mad dog or a vicious child next door, and the powerlessness caused by fear will make you want to find an excuse to hide.

But Andrew doesn't have time to hide now, and he doesn't have time to make excuses. Andrew had to act, so Andrew just closed Andrew's third eye and tried to find Andrew's courage as much as possible.

Outside, thunder rumbled, and a bolt of lightning streaked by, and the distance between the two grew closer and closer. The flashes flickered and the music jumped to the next one. Philip

Shouted incantations over Andrew's head. The female voice that Andrew guessed was Mrs. Bettle was also in a state of frenzy.

"Take people's money and eliminate disasters with people. Andrew muttered to himself.

Andrew concentrated his willpower, stretched out his right arm and opened his palm to the stereo, shouting, "Bing Blaze!" A high heat burst from Andrew's hand, causing a fire at the other end of the house, engulfing the stereo, and it was no longer playing music, but an unbearable screeching sound.

Hermione's handcuffs were still on Andrew's wrists, dangling from the empty end.

Then Andrew turned around, stretched out his arms and shouted, "Wind bless!" The wind gathered at Andrew's feet, causing the hem of Andrew's coat to sway like Batman's cape, and sent Andrew into the air, over the platform above and over the low railing, to the top of the building.

Although Andrew had already imagined that scene, he was still horrified to see it with his own eyes. Philip wore a pair of black shortpants, a black shirt and black shoes – something tasteful, especially when compared to Andrew's sweatpants with cowboy boots. His thick eyebrows and lean figure looked rather eerie in the dim light of the magic circle that surrounded him, and he was ready to complete the spell ritual with his tools—he wanted to kill Andrew.

He had what looked like a spoon, one end sharpened and sharpened, a pair of candles, one black and one white, and a white rabbit with its feet tied with red threads. The rabbit had a small wound on one of its feet that was bleeding blood, staining its fur red. On the other side was another magic circle drawn with chalk on the carpet, about fifteen inches wide. The Betchets twisted awkwardly, sweaty desires powering Philip's spells.

When Andrew landed on the floor in the building, Philip glared at Andrew. The wind blew beside Andrew, raging like a mini tornado in the small room, blowing the potted plants and furnishings in the room.

"It's you!" he shouted.

"It's me. "Andrew is definitely authentic. "I'm here to talk to you. “

His shock turned to rage. He grabbed the sharpened spoon, raised his right hand, and chanted the incantation aloud. He referred the rabbit to him

In front of him, the rabbit is Andrew's representative in this ceremony, and he is ready to dig out the rabbit's heart, which is Andrew's heart.

Andrew didn't give him a chance to complete the ritual. Andrew reached into his pocket and threw the empty box of plastic negatives at Philip the Shadowman.

If it were used as a weapon, the negative box would be insignificant. But it's an entity, and it's thrown by a real person, a mortal, it

Can destroy the integrity of the magic circle.

Just as Philip finished the spell and was about to stab the spoon at the poor rabbit, the box of negatives passed through Philip's magic circle and struck it

Break. A storm of energy burst out of Philip's broken magic circle.

Scattered magic flowed through the room, blind, uninhibited, and focused, explicit colors and rough sounds gushing with hurricane-like power,

Blowing all sorts of things around, including Philip and Andrew. The wind also blew through the second magic circle where the Betchets were, blowing them around and crashing into the wall.

Magic raged around Andrew, colliding with primitive and dangerous magic in the air, like water finding holes to escape when it was under great pressure. At this point, Andrew propped himself up on the railing.

"You bastard!" Philip yelled, pale. "Why can't you just die!" he raised his hand and shouted at Andrew, and the flames erupted in the space between Andrew's them, fast and hot.

Andrew borrowed some of the mana from the room and formed a thick wall, and Andrew was so focused that he winced his eyebrows. Without the bracelet, it was many times harder to protect himself than before, but Andrew blocked the flames, causing it to leap up and over Andrew's head, and then squeezed the flames in front of Andrew, forming a quarter-round wall of fire that Philip's magic could not pass through. Andrew opened his eyes just in time to see the flames touch the wooden beams on the ceiling, setting them on fire.

When the flames swept by, the air was still flooded with energy. Philip watched Andrew stand up, and in a fit of rage, he raised a hand and recited a summoning spell in a rage. A crank staff that looked like some kind of bone flew in from the air, and he grabbed it with one hand. He turned to face Andrew, as if he had a gun in his hand.

One of the things that most wizards have is that they are too accustomed to thinking about things from one standpoint: magic. Andrew didn't think Philip expected Andrew to suddenly jump up, staggering over the shaky floor and slamming him into the chest with his shoulder, causing him to slam hard against the wall.

Andrew stepped back slightly, then pushed his knee against his stomach, and missed, but hit him solidly. He snorted, and the whole person fell to the ground. By this time, Andrew had lost his mind, shouting at him incoherently and constantly kicking him in the head.

Andrew heard the sound of metal clash behind him, and Hodi turned around just in time to see a naked Mr. Bettle holding a gun pointed at Andrew. Andrew jumped to the side and heard the crisp sound of gunshots. Something hot hit Andrew in the buttocks, and the momentum was so strong that Andrew rolled all the way to the kitchen. Andrew heard Betchet shout a national curse, and several high-pitched clicks, and the gun snapped. It's damn bad, there's a bunch of magic flying around the room, and Andrew is lucky that the gun didn't blow up directly.

At this time, Philip shook the bottom of the bone staff in his hand, and several shriveled brown scorpions fell on the carpet. His mouth couldn't be more white

Teeth gleamed on his brown face, and he roared, "Scorpion, scorpion, scorpion!" with greed and anger in his eyes.

One of Andrew's feet was no longer listening, so Andrew crawled sideways into the kitchen with two hands and the other leg like a crab. Outside the restaurant in the middle of a building, the scorpions trembled and came back to life and began to grow. First the first, followed by the others all towards the kitchen towards Andrew, while continuing to grow larger.

Philip howled happily, and the Betchets stood up, looking lean and murderous, both with their guns and hollow eyes

God was left with only some mad desire to kill.

Andrew felt his shoulders push against a long table, and with a thud, a broom fell, and the handle of the broom bounced off Andrew's head before landing on the tiled floor beside him. Andrew grabbed the broomstick, his heart almost beating to his throat.

A room full of deadly drugs, an evil illusionist standing in his stadium, two madmen armed with guns, and a whole cloud of wild magic at work

There were also a number of scorpions, each as big as the one Andrew had killed before, and swelling like a monster in the movie, with less than ten seconds left and all the pauses running out.

To sum up, tonight was not a good favour for the away team.

Andrew is dead. There's no way out of the kitchen, and there's no time to use the blast-type summoning spell in a tight space. Philip might blow Andrew off with magic, or the red-eyed Betsettes could get their guns and leave a few more bullet holes in Andrew's body, but the deadly scorpions would tear Andrew to shreds faster than they could. His ass began to hurt, and although it was nothing compared to the fatal numbness caused by a more serious injury, Andrew didn't care at all.

At this time, a thought arose in Andrew's head, a thought that was so childish that Andrew almost laughed out loud. Andrew plucked a straw from the broom and began to chant unhurriedly, Andrew held the straw with his fingers, and it swayed in the wind. Andrew stretched out his palm and grabbed the huge amount of primordial energy that was scurrying around in the air and cast it into the spell. "Hurry up!" Andrew shouted in a louder voice, "Hurry up!"

The broom twitched, trembling and popping out of Andrew's hand, flying across the kitchen floor, sweeping its head menacingly towards the scorpions.

Andrew would never have expected Andrew to use this transformation spell when cornered by a wave of scorpions, but as the saying goes, "better than nothing". The broom pounced on the scorpions with amazing energy, sweeping them one by one to the outside of the building with a uniform movement. Whenever any of the scorpions tried to dodge, the broom would turn to the side, catch the little beast, sweep it cleanly, and continue its work.

Andrew was also sure that the broom would sweep the dust off the road, and when Andrew cast a spell, he was always sure.

Philip screamed angrily as he watched his pets, who could not afford to be held responsible, be easily driven out of the building. Mr. and Mrs. Betty coffered

He fired a shot at the broomstick, and Andrew crouched behind the long table. They must have been using revolvers now, because the interval between the shots sounded fairly regular. Bullets hit the wall behind the kitchen and on the long table, but none of them penetrated the long table where Andrew was hiding.

The building-within-a-building has also been burned, starting from the roof. It won't be long before the whole house falls apart.

"Don't shoot, don't shoot!" exclaimed Philip, and the gunfire stopped abruptly. Andrew ventured his head out of the long table. The broom has driven the scorpions out of the middle of the building and swept them downstairs into the room below. Andrew happened to see Philip grab the broom handle and knock it off the railing of the building within a building with a roar. The straw on Andrew's finger snapped and snapped, and Andrew felt the energy of the spell dissipate.

Philip the Shadow Man roared, "What a trick, Andrew. He said. "But it's also ridiculous. You will never be able to win, surrender

Come on, I'll let you go. “

The Betchetes were reloading their bullets again. Andrew quickly retracted his head, lest they make any more moths, hoping that they didn't find any more powerful bullets, otherwise they would be able to make a honeycomb of the long tables where Andrew was hiding, and shoot Andrew to death by the way.

"Preferably. Andrew replied as steadily as he could. "You're known for your compassion and fair dueling, aren't you?"

"I'll just trap you there, and you'll be dead as soon as the fire passes. Philip said.

"Of course, let's die together. It's a shame for you to have that pile of stuff downstairs, right?"

Philip snorted and threw a fireball into the kitchen. But this time it's much easier to hide, with these long tables to help Andrew as cover.

"Oh, that's cute. Andrew said in a very disdainful tone. "You're just playing with fire. All true wizards have mastered fire spells in the first few weeks, and then continue to study in higher directions. Andrew looked around the kitchen, there must be someone Andrew could use to help Andrew kill this madman without leaving a trace, but he hadn't shown up yet.

"Shut up!" Philip roared. "Who is the real wizard? Ah? Who has a bunch of aces in their hands? And who is lying in the kitchen bleeding? You are

Scrap wood, Andrew, scrap wood. You're a useless thing, do you know why?"

"Oh my God. Andrew said. "I'll have to think about it. “

He laughed harshly. "Because you're an idiot. You're an idealist. Keep your eyes open and see, you're in the jungle right now. Survival of the fittest, and you have proven that you are not the fittest. Those who follow me prosper, and those who oppose me perish. When I'm done cleaning you up, I'll clean your body and get back on your way as if you never existed. “