Then suddenly, like an invisible thread, he tied up Allen and lifted it up. Professor Frieve used a floating spell to direct Allen's body to move forward quickly and floated straight towards the podium.

A sneer rang out from the podium.

"He looks like a turtle."

"If you dare to sleep in Professor Flivie's class, you must be prepared to receive punishment."

"What a waste, I actually deducted points from Ravenclaw. It's so embarrassing that we have such a person in our college."

...

Because of the trauma that Alan was so bad that he only noticed some disagreement with the magic of the god of death and had not been able to get rid of it. He just raised his own doubts: "Wait, once Professor uses this on people, will he be sentenced to Azkaban?"

"Oh my God, Mr. Harris, what are you doing? Just demonstrate a spell, there is no need to be so stinky and afraid." Seeing Alan landing, he subconsciously sorted out his clothes, Professor Flivie's sharp voice changed the topic and mocked him and raised his wand, "Do you want to be the center of everyone's attention? Maybe you should be assigned to Slytherin?"

There was a harsh laughter in the classroom, and Flivie did not wait for Allen to respond.

"Now I see it clearly, my heart is scattered!"

As if being pierced by millions of knifes at the same time, the instant pain and anger made Alan's cheek pale.

The bone-breathing pain in his body was like countless ants gnawing at the flesh. His bone marrow and heart even made his pupils lose their focal length for a short time, and his eyes were blurred. He was afraid of the pain and moaned in his mouth.

"It's really bad, with low willpower! I was just dreaming and talking to myself, saying that I am the savior? In fact, you can't even resist an ordinary magic."

The unfathomable eyes on the ugly, purely evil face stared at Alan's eyes fiercely.

"Wake up, use your head that is not much better than the trolls to see. You are just a nasty little boy, an incompetent waste."

Alan, who was constantly casting a spell, curled up his body, and the pain of heart swept across his body. He could not bear the torture of the spell, and his arms and legs were waving randomly. His panic was like a paddling in Hulun and asking for help. He wanted to grab something and use external power to relieve his physical pain, but he was floating in the air like a dead tree drifting on the sea, and he could only let the pain hit him and had nowhere to hide.

This perplexing pain can almost collapse the reason. His body twitches constantly and his throat makes an uncontrollable howl of pain.

The harsh laughter almost overturned the roof of the classroom. What came to Alan's ears was the endless ridicule of these wizards, mocking him for his poor casting ability and weak ability to resist spells. He was an incompetent, cowardly, timid and afraid of pain.

The body curled up into a cooked shrimp, and through his forehead, which was soaked by cold sweat, Allen's eyes passed through the classroom to watch his wizards. They smiled so happily.

Draco held his head up, a contemptuous smile on his pale pointed face; Pansy, who was beside him, even his cold eyes turned into a crack; Harry grimaced at himself with a cunning look like a monster, and Ron beside him was cursing fiercely...

"It's really disgusting to see his embarrassing look. He's really shameless to dream of being a savior."

"This idiot can do nothing, he can dream. He should throw a dung egg to make him wake up."

"Ravenclaw has never had such a bad student."

...

Flivie had no intention of stopping, and the more miserable Alan's situation was, the more ridiculous the sounds of ridicule and curse around him, the louder and louder the sounds. The sounds were very noisy, buzzing and making people irritated, but every hypothesis that he hated deep in his heart was clearly heard by Alan in pain.

Amid the violent tremor of his body, Alan was suffering all over his mind just wanted to change his position to try to endure more pain on his back, but as his figure really began to move as he thought.

A little unexpectedly Alan calmed down and glanced at the teachers and students around him. A smile suddenly appeared on his face, which was almost distorted in pain.

At that moment, the power of magic entered his soul, allowing him to regain his memory and prevent his thinking from being affected.

With the help of Ellen's fingertips, he shot a series of crackling lightning, heading straight to the huge wooden window of the magic class classroom. In the crackling sound of large glass bursting, the remaining power shot towards the blue sky outside the window.

The sky hit by lightning was like a broken mirror. After cracks appeared, it became very fragile. Under Allen's lightning beam, it fell to the ground and collapsed into more fragments. The cracked sky revealed the originally gray sky inside.

Alan, who had regained his freedom, fell to the ground, and his pale face turned to Professor Fritvie and the onlookers without expression, but they disappeared completely, as if they had never existed.

Alan, who had completely restored his mind, breathed a sigh of relief and successfully got rid of the illusion again.

The god of death, Haierbo, has recently started to torture him not only physically, but also when his will becomes less and less in his state due to the pain and resistance, he has also been trapped in illusions from time to time and torture him to a deeper level of mental torture.

In order to allow Allen to be freed or destroyed from the illusion of destructive endings by relying on his own will - in order to achieve the goal of ultimately making him crazy and unable to distinguish between reality and illusion.

Open your eyes and see the suffocating underworld, the dark sky, the devastated gray land, the pungent stench...

Although everything was desolate and ragged, Allen sighed long.

"Oh? This surprised me a little. Mr. Harris, the speed at which he got rid of the illusion this time was not as slow as before." Helbo, the god of death, leaned on the ground with a tick. He walked forward a few steps, and looked at Allen with a cold look.

"Mr. Haierbo is not an excellent screenwriter. Your method of making scripts is too bad. You don't consider the character's character. It's too flawed." Allen glanced at him and pretended to be disdainful. "Forget it, Draco, Neville has started to mock people. Is it too much?"

"I don't think we need such lies or nonsense to test them, let me see if you gave me any surprises..."

After saying that, the face of the God of Death Haierbo's ram shape stretched longer. He suddenly opened his ginger eyes wide and stretched out his hand with a wide ring to grab Eren, just as they could catch him at the distance.
Chapter completed!