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The soul-slayers emerged from the ground in the cold winter, roaring to harvest souls, and the mysterious sorcerers made peace with the rampaging gods. Such a group of people emerged when the race was in crisis. Fearless, enthusiastic and kind, he can be called a warrior. When they gather together as a clan, there is a torrent of steel and martial virtue. Like locusts passing through, no grass will grow wherever they pass. Like a cunning villain, murderous intent will overflow in the next second. Bards sang their praises, cults feared them, but these people just gathered together to laugh. They all have a common name - Player! "I want to create a kingdom for players!" Sword of the Morning Star, Emperor of the Empire, Lord of the North Luther said.

When Harry Potter was no longer at the mercy of others, everything changed Snape looked at the results spit out by the Sorting Hat with a blank expression. "Potter is in Slytherin!" He couldn't help himself. And our famous Dark Lord, the man who pursues immortality, is barely resurrected Kassandra: "Your death curse is nothing, former Dark Lord." Malfoy: "Your ideas are now regarded as rubbish by us." A familiar face appeared in front of him, revealing a lightning scar. The wand flashed green light and was placed against his forehead. He whispered: "Voldemort, your time has ended long ago, Avada Kedavra!" Hermione: "On behalf of the Ministry of Magic, I declare that Voldemort has been completely destroyed." He changed the wizarding world!