"Meow!"
The cat's meow sounded as if a whistle had just been blown.
At this moment, even the original wailing sound beside the ear seemed to be weakened a lot.
Su Ping was surprised and looked at Little White, who leaped from his arms.
No wonder that Lord Bai valued Little White so much.
Even entrusted it specially to him.
"Little White..."
Before Su Ping could finish speaking, Little White's figure suddenly lunged forward, darting straight into the Death Wheatfield. In the next moment, a burst of purple energy erupted from its housecat-sized body.
The violet pupils, at this moment, seemed to possess indescribable magical power.
In the Death Wheatfield, scarecrows one by one strolled out slowly, resembling puppets being maneuvered, gathering beside Little White.
Little White leaped onto the head of a more than two-meter-high scarecrow, extended its sharp claws, plucking the strands of straw, and then let out another meow:
"Meow!"
