Wizet!
Anyone familiar with that voice could immediately tell that the one speaking at this moment had to be Wizet!
Yet the instant they heard it, many felt a dreamlike sense of unreality surge up within them.
For a moment, they could not help wondering whether this was some illusion born before the moon had fully set.
Perhaps that unfathomably scheming "My Lord" had maliciously concocted this false comfort as some cruel amusement.
So that, before facing utter destruction, they would futilely reach for a delusion they could never grasp, allowing him to derive some pleasure from it.
After all, the level of magic "My Lord" had displayed earlier was simply far beyond anything they could imagine.
Even three people with strength comparable to Dumbledore's had been unable to inflict any real harm upon "My Lord." At most, they had merely made him find things a little more entertaining.
Wizet appeared before them, dressed in a dark blue formal robe.
He wore a dark blue formal robe, with a blue crystal lapel chain hanging from its collar, shimmering with fragmented light.
Beneath the pouring, deathly pale moonlight, the hidden patterns on his robe were now fully revealed, carrying a rather imposing flamboyance.
Only at this moment did many of those present truly believe that Wizet had really returned!
As Harry looked at that familiar figure before him, he felt as though his heart had skipped a beat.
His mind was blank, with only one thought echoing over and over—He was back! He really was back!
If he had not been restrained by "My Lord's" magic, Ron truly could not be sure what he would have done upon seeing Wizet appear.
Probably... grabbed someone nearby by the collar and screamed wildly in Merlin's name, using every exaggerated word he could think