Flowers, grass, stones, pigs, cows, horses, sheep.

The tree completed more than a dozen deformations based on his ideas in an instant.

But it seems that there is more than that.

The thought in Sherlock's heart moved slightly, and an explosion sounded not far away, lifting up the soil on the ground. Then a bird passing by the treetops suddenly fell into a coma and fell on the soft grass. A sneaky mouse suddenly danced and danced uncontrollably!

The next moment, something seemed to blow by.

The explosion of earth pit recovered, the bird woke up in a daze and took off again, the mouse's body returned to normal, and fled away in horror.

Sherlock looked at his hands blankly, and just as he was standing there, his body suddenly fell to the ground.

The wonderful feeling faded away immediately, and he turned back to the ordinary Sherlock. The wonderful things that happened before were as if they had nothing to do with him.

Last time when she "eats" Voldemort's remnant soul in her diary, because her injuries were too serious, Sherlock did not feel much about the feeling of having his soul slit up for this period of time.

And now he has truly experienced it.

That feeling is indescribable, as if he has become the absolute controller of the local scope.

All laws must be reflected in his will. No matter how everything changes, he must nod and agree!

Sherlock, who had become normal, sat on the ground, thinking with his expression and savoring the feeling he had just now.

But soon he came back to his senses from a state of contemplation and shook his head.

No matter how powerful you are at that time, you will not be your own strength in the end. There is no benefit to being addicted to it, but instead makes him forget his fundamental purpose.

After thinking about it, he felt relieved and felt that his current mental state had never been better than before.

He pulled out his magic wand and waved at a small grass beside him, and the grass instantly shattered into countless grass chips.

This is a silent crushing spell. Sherlock could clearly feel that the intensity of the spell he used directly increased a lot more than before.

Then he spread his control.

Although it was still a limit of ten meters, it clearly made him notice the difference.

The previous control magic basically controlled the matter, and the use of magic is also through the wand as a medium.

But now, he seems to be able to directly rely on controlling the magic itself to complete some not too profound curses.

Without waving his staff, Sherlock looked up at a tree-protecting pot climbing upward on the branch and chanted a spell softly.

"All petrochemicals."
Chapter completed!