"What are you gonna do?" Dogu, the dwarf leader, questioned Michael, his tone a mix of defiance and curiosity.
Michael offered no response to Dogu's inquiry. Instead, he unceremoniously tossed the dwarf outside, treating the others with similar disdain, kicking them out of the temple as if they were inanimate objects.
They landed in the sand outside the temple with a dull thud, their immobilized bodies barely able to react. As Michael emerged from the temple, he stretched his neck audibly, preparing for what came next.
"You bastard! Give us the antidote!" Dogu's shout resonated, but Michael continued his course of action, tying the paralyzed dwarves together with swift and precise movements.
"Do you like flying?" Michael inquired of Dogu, his words dripping with irony as the other dwarves struggled helplessly. All they could do was move their eyes, a stark contrast to the fluidity of Michael's movements.
