Israfel looked down silently, growing weaker and weaker with each passing second.
Actually, had it not been for his treasure boots that had the ability to keep him standing firmly in the sky he would have fallen long ago as a result of the severity of his wound.
The clear eyes of the Supreme Pontiff stopped first on Naomi currently passed out after being hit by Bai Shilin, the terror of any mage. Then, his eyes moved a little more to the left until they met the eyes of his right hand, the man who although already over 30 years old had been raised by him as if he were his son.
Israfel smiled gently and nodded, making Matthew Sanchez had to grit his teeth hard enough to make his gums bleed to keep from sobbing when he saw the thin trickle of red blood sliding silently from the corner of the mouth of the man who to him was not only a leader but also his father.
