Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

The red-haired man was triumphant in the ring, and on the Slytherin side, a lanky old man stood up quietly. He took a potion bottle from his arms and took a sip.

Then, he moved his neck and wandered off the platform.

While passing by, Silby heard the man's low sarcasm: "Trash."

Silby didn't argue, he came to Tyra who was about to dizzy, and squatted down smilingly: "Well, what a big deal."

Dodoro looked at Silby angrily, gritted his teeth, "You are playing with us!"

Dodoro said angrily. As Silby’s subordinate, he secretly accompanied him to the Rat Road Colosseum at night. Dodoro knew the strength of this young man better than anyone, and that’s why he was better than anyone else. All angry.

"Look ahead."

Silby patted him on the shoulder indifferently and returned to Slytherin, standing behind him as if nothing had happened.

"That's how you won thirty games?"

Slytherin asked him cheerfully.

"The state is not good today." Silby sighed slightly: "I played too hard at night, and I didn't take a break."

"Good, good, good!"

Slytherin hissed and said, "It's really amazing. I've learned all the negativity."

"No,"

Silbinunu said, "His site is no better than the rat track cage. The rat track cage is protected on all sides. No matter how much you fall, you can't fall out. But this place is a bit too small and I can't get used to it for a while."

"Humph!"

Slytherin looked at him and snorted coldly.

He didn't even bother to expose his perfunctory anymore. He had made up his mind in his heart. When this happened, he would never keep this "servant" anymore. This guy was too deep-minded, too strong in his opinion, and even more difficult to control is that he He is secretive about his true thoughts and almost never actively expresses it.

Slytherin hates others thinking of himself as a fool, and does not want someone stronger than himself in the world, whether he is Gryffindor, Sylby, or anyone else, when he wants others to mention this era, There is only one person who can remember-Salazar Slytherin, the greatest wizard.

In the arena, the thin and tall old man blankly handed his red invitation letter to the bald messenger.

Then he stood opposite the eye-catching red-haired man, and slowly took off his robe, revealing his scrawny body. How skinny he was, Silby looked from behind him and could almost see his fully bulging spine and a red scar on his body.

But Silby did not dare to underestimate the thin old man. On the contrary, his eyes became solemn, because he could feel a surging but weird natural force in the old man.

I saw that he took off a necklace from his chest, opened the necklace, took out a seed-like thing from it, raised his head and took it down.

Suddenly, his aging body straightened step by step, and at the same time it became vegetative step by step. His muscle fibers became thicker and longer, eventually forming plants, even bursting out one by one. His facial features became rough, and the soles of his feet continued to extend downwards, eventually stuck in the ground.

"That's Olead! The traitorous wizard of the Druids."

Someone exclaimed: "He also received an invitation letter. It is rumored that he was burned to death by church people more than ten years ago, but he was still alive."

The red-haired man didn’t dare to hold it big anymore. He took out the beating black heart again, and smeared the black blood it secreted on himself. With the lingering black air, he turned into a ferocious tiger, roaring Pounced on the tree man in the middle of the ring.

Click!

The tiger pounced on the trunk, and the weight of several hundred kilograms bent the trunk down. Then it opened a huge mouth and bit the trunk. Its sharp claws scratched and the sawdust flew horizontally.

The more the tree trunk was bent, the more serious it was, the more it was bent, the more serious it was, and finally it made an unknown squeak, which was about to break.

But at this moment, the tree trunk that was bent to the extreme bounced forward.

It's like a tight spring returning to its original shape.

Not only that, in the process of rebounding, countless slender or thick branches pierced out like sharp swords. The whoosh stabbed the tiger's body and came out through the body.

The red-haired man let out a miserable whimper, and then there was no sound. A forked branch penetrated its throat and tore his vocal cords.

It took almost two seconds, and the evil tiger that had just been survivable was pierced into a sieve by countless branches in the blink of an eye.

It was hung miserably in the air, and blood flowed down the branches like a stream on the ground.

This is the first time that this game has seen blood.

The trunk was slow, but bent down firmly.

The red-haired man's body was placed on the ground, and the dense branches were dragged behind, and pulled out from the man's body. The vines spread silently, Oleard rooted deeply in the soil and looked around.

The bald messenger immediately raised his hand and said with a smile: "Oleard wins and Jones is out."

Then, three red invitations fell into the hands of the tree man Oleard.

"Does anyone still want to challenge?"

The tree man made a dull and heavy accent, like a wood hitting: "If not, please hand in the red invitation letter and don't stand in the way of the old man."

"What a joke!"

On Gryffindor’s side, a northern wizard wearing a thick fur coat stood up fiercely: “Learning skills, and the loser will retire. Why do we have to kill the killer? Don’t you think we are not small enough?”

Treeman Ole Adronron turned around, looked at the face of the Northland wizard who was talking, and sneered: "If you are dissatisfied, you can solve it by force, and then solve the problem by yourself. I don't have the time to play tricks with you!"

Here!

The Scar Man drew a short scimitar from his waist, "Bi-Ji-Bi, who is afraid of whom?"

He jumped into the arena and threw a glass ball under his body. The glass ball shattered, and the cold breath covered the arena like a tide.

The branches of Oleard's body were frozen in an instant, but he was unwilling to show weakness, shaking the frost on his body, and shaking off countless seeds at the same time, the kind of seeds fell to the ground and took root, transforming the entire arena. Grown thorn forest.

"You can't sit here, you can't stand, you can't lie down!"

Ole Adlon said, "No one wants to kill me in the bushes."

"Fart!"

In the cold mist, the man shouted,

He took out a glass ball from his pocket again, the glass ball shattered, and a huge snowball dropped from the sky, hitting Oleard's tree body, and the white drowned him.

For a while, there was no movement under the snow.

Everyone in the Gryffindor camp stood up, applauded and applauded loudly.

Silby stared at the arena with scorching eyes. The wizard who played this time should be a person with high accomplishments in spells, but he was not as powerful as he could control the spells freely, so he could only put the spells on In the glass ball.

However, if there is only this degree, he should not be able to defeat Oleard, the reason Silby thinks is very simple, he can see the traces of the magic of the man's spell, and can even infer its composition, if you give him time, He thinks he can optimize those spells.

But Oleard's power is more like a certain kind of talent, something naturally formed, he is difficult to analyze, difficult to imitate, and at the same time more changeable.

Sure enough, just when the wizards on the Gryffindor side applauded.

The northern wizard holding a machete suddenly knelt on the ground, covered his throat, rolled his eyes on the ground, and convulsed.

This shocking change surprised everyone.

Silby frowned, and after thinking about it for a moment, he knew the reason. The thorns that grew on the ground were poisonous. During the first wave of offensive by the wizards of the North, they were accidentally scratched by poisonous leaves. At this moment, the poisonous attack occurred. Lost combat effectiveness.

Outside the arena, the bald-headed ruling officer raised his hand with a smile, "Oleard wins and Cromo is out."

There was a touch of joy on Slytherin's face.

The out-of-control ice and snow gradually faded, revealing Oleard's body crushed in half by the snowball, and he also seemed to have suffered some trauma. But the lewd prestige of killing two people in a row still made everyone afraid to step forward.

After this victory, the old tree man named Oleard collected four red invitations. What's more terrifying is that after two rounds of fierce battle, his bent body gradually returned to normal.

Not only did he return to normal, he also took root deeply in the ground, the trunk became thicker, the branches became denser, and dense red leaves grew on the branches.

Silby quickly discovered the reason. The wizards who had been killed by Oleard were dragged into the ground silently by his branches, and their blood and nutrients were all by this weird treant. It's absorbed, no wonder he dared to play so early, because he can fight harder, and the more people die, the stronger he will be.

Other wizards also posted about Oleard's weirdness.

Even Slytherin looked at him with jealousy. In the Wizarding World Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, it is difficult to guarantee that a dark horse will not be killed halfway and swept everyone.

If this fails and is killed, not only will it lose the king's throne, but it will even become his nourishment. Who dares to do it?

Just when everyone was afraid to step forward, Gryffindor, who was sitting on the opposite platform, stood up. He smiled, holding the silver fairy sword, slowly walked off the high platform.

Everyone has heard of Godric Gryffindor's name, his bravery, his recklessness, and his toughness. When he finally chose to appear on the stage, the chattering in the stands on both sides stopped.

Even Queen Pandora, who was expressionless and fluctuating, straightened her back and looked at the blond man in the red cloak without blinking.

The red cloak rustled behind him, and he came to Oleard, who had grown into a towering tree, and looked up at him.

"Are you surrendering yourself, or do you want me to do it myself?"

"What a joke, Godric." The old tree man Jie Jie said with a smile: "Others are afraid of you, and I am not afraid of you. The sword of a fairy is indeed unique in fighting black magic, but what I use is not black magic."

"Well, indeed, deformation plus herbalism?" Gryffindor nodded appreciatively: "Is there your uniqueness, how about it, are you interested in coming to work under my command? Your ability should not be buried in Slytherin's hands."

As soon as I said this, the Slytherin face on the high platform turned green, and Silby thought that Gryffindor, this fellow, really did not forget to dig Slytherin's corner all the time.

"I'm not following him, I just don't like your kind of arrogant and arrogant personality."

The old man creaked his bow and said, "We wizards have survived so far. We rely on them, but we are keeping a low profile for survival, and we can protect ourselves clearly!"

After speaking, he spiraled. Every branch or vine turned into a deadly machete, cutting across Gryffindor's body.

Gryffindor stomped on the ground quickly and decisively. The ground trembled like a magnitude eight earthquake. The people on both sides of the stands were swayed by the shock. The entire arena was completely shattered, revealing the roots of the roots hidden beneath me.

As the rubble flew across, he quickly drew out the fairy sword and slashed at the corpses wrapped in tree roots, almost becoming a phantom.

Silby secretly admired him, as he deserved to be Gryffindor, he was aware of the key at a glance, as long as the roots of the tree were destroyed, the nutrient-lost Oleard would be unsustainable.

Naturally, Oleard would not sit and wait for death. His roots dragged the bodies of two people and dived down quickly. At the same time, he raised the branches on the other hand and inserted them into the ground to form obstacles after another, blocking Gryffindor’s Way to go.

Gryffindor swung the fairies' sword in a big way, but he cut off all the branches that blocked him. Cuckoo shed red blood on the cut branches.

"With this ability, you should unite with us and stop fighting each other!" In the fierce battle, Gryffindor still squeezed out energy to win over each other.

This Oleard was so angry that he roared: "Don't underestimate others, wait until you win!"

With his roar, all the branches cut by Gryffindor came to life. They grew branches and feet, jokingly ran to Gryffindor, exploded violently, and exploded purple clouds in the air. Of poisonous smoke.

In the stands, Silby immediately covered his nose and shook his head. The whole head was quickly covered by a cloud of water. He didn't want to be affected by the battle.

In the arena, Gryffindor's vision was blurred, and his rapid pace slowed down.

Then, countless vines caught up with him, entangled in his hand holding the fairy sword. After restraining his arms, Ole Adron straightened up, and a branch turned into a huge and sharp wooden knife, severely chopped down, unexpectedly trying to cut off Gryffindor's sword holding arm.

Gryffindor smiled slightly among the sparks. He lost the fairy sword, his hands were already covered with flames, and the flames on his arms changed from red to hot blue in an instant, and burned from the vines to the main body of Oleard.

Silby stared straight at the flame, and his brain almost instinctively began to analyze the changes and composition of the spell.

Covered by the raging flames, Oleard began to scream.

Gryffindor slid behind him with an agile step, and hugged the guy across his waist. He hugged his main trunk with both hands and exerted force on his waist and abdomen.

Then, in Silby's shocked eyes, he forcibly pulled out Oleard, which was deeply rooted in the ground.

What a power this is! !

Shocked, shocked. After the shock, Silby immediately analyzed the cause of Gryffindor’s enormous power, which is definitely not a power that humans can have. After careful perception, he found that under Gryffindor’s skin, there was a faint gleam. No magic rune, sure enough, it is also a kind of power blessing magic, and it is quite ancient and powerful magic.

Invincible.

He immediately gave himself such instructions in his mind.

In the arena, the battle has become fierce.

The uprooted Oleard struggled desperately, every tentacles turned into needles, spiraling downwards and piercing Gryffindor's body. The lion-like man did not evade and stabbed his fingers. Like Oleard's chest, it came out through his chest.

With the sawdust flying across, he held a red seed between his fingertips.

After being robbed of the seed, the towering tree Oleard immediately withered, and his body shrank rapidly. In less than 30 seconds, he became shriveled and skinny again, coughing and trembling constantly on the ground.

Gryffindor let go of him, turned around and pulled out the fairy sword that was stuck on the ground, put it on Oleard’s neck, and said lightly: "You can disagree with my way of doing things, but you can't disagree. My sword, now, surrender, or die."

"I... Surrender..."

The skinny old man crawled on the ground, shaking.