Maxwell filled the rainbow completely, pressed the pocket watch that was beating wildly, and just moved the wheelchair to the window, she saw the gray sparrow that had landed on the window frame and arranged its feathers, and she seemed to hear the sound and raised her head, and the next moment jumped into his hand.

The movements are so skillful that they seem to have been rehearsed hundreds of times.

He put a fluffy plum blossom cake in his hand, and poked it twice on the little head that quickly lowered his head to peck, "You're not afraid of me at all now." ”

Jing Hao didn't think about the meaning of his words, only lowered her head and concentrated on eating what was in front of her, she had been busy investigating the strange lightning that appeared before, flying in and out all day long and taking care of a young bird that couldn't forage for food but could scream, so busy that she didn't have time to find some food for herself.

After all, she still couldn't accept pecking at a bug and eating it little by little.

A small piece of pastry was still a little too difficult for her stomach now, and she slowed down her eating, thinking about whether to catch the rest of the pastry for the young bird who never knew what it was.

"Don't think about giving things to that shameless sound control bird." Maxwell guessed her intentions by looking at her subtle movements, and drove her away rather unhappily, crumpled the pastry in his hand into powder, and carefully wiped the crumbs on his hands with a handkerchief that he took out of nowhere, with elegant and meticulous movements.

He wiped every finger clean, threw the dark gray handkerchief from the window, which was not stained much, and looked up at her with silver-white eyes.

"You raised it by me, it's not."

Strong and irreversible, it seems that if she says a word of denial, the next second will be to lose her fragile neck and life.

Jing Hao nodded decisively, magnifying the amplitude of his movements so that he could see clearly.

The necromancer was quite satisfied with the instruction of the little pet, he unfolded his freshly wiped hand to signal that it was good to fall again, and the other hand slowly stroked her gently along the feather, and his thumb was still circling back and forth on her little head, turning and thinking about it.

"Stupid bird, I've got all the colors, what do you think I should do after that?" He was silent for a moment, and slightly increased his strength, "Heh, I can't find anything to do, and I'm really not in a good mood." ”

As soon as he finished speaking, a whole circle of trees outside the window shook violently without a hint of wind, and the fallen leaves fell to the ground with a clatter, as if they were scared to pee.

Even the voice-controlling bird, which was still calling softly, stopped its voice, trying to reduce its sense of existence to the limit.

Naturally, Maxwell sensed the flurry of movements, and he commented without a trace of emotion, "What a bunch of useless things." ”

Jing Hao couldn't help but shiver and folded her wings to keep warm.

Although Maxwell did not feel the slightest feeling of living in the Tower of Death, anyone who has been trapped on an isolated island for hundreds of years and has no activities to pass the time is probably driven insane.

What is there that he is interested in, but has not yet done?

Jing Hao caught a glimpse of the fragment of the test tube at the foot of the wall, which had been shattered and had already climbed up a few spider silks, and quickly pounced on a painting hanging on the wall, and pointed hard with his little paws.

Maxwell could quickly understand what she meant, "That's what I painted, I'm tired of it." ”

Jing turned his head and looked at the painting, the person painted on it happened to be the one in front of him, the details of the corners of the eyes and eyebrows were grasped very accurately, and the trance was to make people think that it was a glass with a real person standing opposite, and even the murderous aura that did not exist in the expression could be expressed on the canvas.

She flapped her wings and flew to the geometric model on the other side.

"Boring."

Then it falls to the bookshelf on the other side.

"Boring."

It fell to the dusty instrument on the side.

"It's boring."

……

She almost circled around the castle, touching everything she could touch under her paws, and the answer was all negative, and Maxwell, who was in a wheelchair without sweating a little, looked at it and fell back to the desk full of things, and looked at the gray sparrow that was a little detached, and gave two words again.

"Stupid."

Jing Hao struggled to kick him, but before the thought could move, her feet slipped, and the thing she was stepping on slammed into the ground at the same time as she flew, making a crisp crashing sound, which was a little jarring in the empty castle.

It was an iron spatula that fell to the ground.

Maxwell withdrew his gaze from the falling object and nodded towards Jing Hao in mid-air, "This is okay." ”

As soon as he raised his hand, the spatula flew obediently from the ground to his hand, and even the rust that had been attached to its surface so rusty that it was almost impossible to see its prototype lost its trace in an instant, as clean as if it had just come off the production line.

Sensing the state of the room in the castle, the necromancer, who was holding a spatula as if he was already a reserve cook, casually pushed open a room next to him, and after a pause in the first chopping sound, the sound was as smooth as flowing water.

Jing Hao flew to the door and looked at it suspiciously, wanting to see if he was secretly cheating and using a spell.

But when she saw the door at the door, she scratched a few shallow footprints, but she felt that something was wrong, shouldn't it be full of "tired" portraits?

As she thought so, she raised her paw to compare it with the mark on the door, making sure it wasn't from another visitor of the same kind.

"That room was too much of a nuisance here, so I changed to an empty one," Maxwell controlled the lilac flame in one hand, stir-fried the contents of the pot with a spatula in the other, and had the leisure to solve the puzzles of the stupid little pet who stayed at the door, and didn't even forget the usual suffix, "Stupid bird." ”

He quickly put away the heat and put the contents of the pot on a plate, pinched the fork and inserted a small piece of what appeared to be some kind of meat and handed it to Jing Hao's mouth, "Open your mouth, stupid bird." ”

Jing looked at the piece of flesh that was about the tip of a newborn baby's finger, and when she leaned over and bit into her mouth, she was a little puzzled about how it had been inserted into the fork.

Just in the next second, she couldn't wait to spit out everything, the little bird's beak opened, and she gasped, and even the taste that remained in her mouth was unbearable.

Maxwell took a big sip of the fork in his mouth with his fingers, swallowed it without changing his face, and looked up to meet Jing Hao's wide eyes, which were the color he had wanted but couldn't get, but now appeared on the body of a bird, and most of them were covered by gray miscellaneous hair.

Just covering most of it didn't prevent him from seeing the surprise in those eyes.

"I don't have a sense of taste, stupid bird."

Unaware that she had grown accustomed to explaining things to a "stupid bird" she didn't understand, the necromancer turned around and remembered what she had just done, wondering what had gone wrong, and with a movement of her mind, a small cloud of lilac flame ignited in her palm that she had just used as a source of fire.

Could it be that the flame level is too low and not heated enough?

He was about to change to a dark purple flame with a thought, but he flapped his wings and flew in front of him, stared at the flame in his hand for a while, looked around, and found no tool that could be borrowed, so he could only pull a small feather with his claws and throw it into the flames.

The feathers curled up in the flames, turning into almost invisible ashes in the blink of an eye, and there was a faint smell of burning.

Jing Hao flapped her wings, opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue again, trying to express what she meant.

"You mean, it was because the fire was so big that it was all scorched." Maxwell interrupted the action she had to repeat again, put away the flame in his hand and lowered his eyes to think, "It's actually going to use the low-level flame like the Blue Flame that can't be on the table." ”

He expressed his disdain in silence, and when he looked up again, he looked at the gray sparrow standing on the table beside him combing his feathers, and inexplicably felt that there was a bit of pity in her movements.

Isn't it just plucking a hair that is almost invisible.

"Stupid bird, aren't you a sperm? If you can't speak, you always know how to write, right? The self-esteemed mage feels a little cheaper for having a stupid pet, "I have to make a gesture with my teeth and claws every time, and I look ugly." ”

Maxwell thought through what he perceived the little pet was doing every day, and found that she spent almost half of her day playing with the crazy and timid trees, flying over half the distance to the edge of the forest, and coming back to be busy feeding the never-ending silent bird, or tirelessly combing the stray hairs on her body.

It's really a busy and inactive life.

And so playful, how good is she?

Maxwell, who rarely doubted his own judgment, stared at the gray sparrow that seemed to be grinding its claws to fight people, and after half a minute, frowned imperceptibly.

He saw a soul.

A living, vaguely humanoid soul.

It was on his inconspicuous-looking gray sparrow.