"I've never seen anything like this," the old sailor said. "Even an ordinary child shouldn't suffer from heatstroke so severely. But when it comes to this little winged child, I don't know what to do."
"This isn't like an illness," Zilvra said. "To me, it seems more like a curse."
"A curse?" Lynch furrowed his brows. "Who would curse an angel? And how would they cast such a spell?"
"If I'd studied a few more years at 'that' temple, I might be able to answer your question," Zilvra said regretfully, gently stroking Soka's little face.
The mage walked over to Soka, placed his hand on her forehead, and concentrated on feeling the energy within her. The powerful magic resistance of the angel tribe made it challenging for this observation, but the continuous flow of Magic Origin Power supported Lynch's will. The little angel moaned in pain, her face alternating between red and pale. Zilvra and Van Dijk held their breath, anxiously waiting.
