"You didn't use too much of your life force, did you?" I ask Michael while we head to school.
Michael scoffs and rolls his eyes. "I didn't want to use any of my life force for those bastards, but since you said to use just enough for their stomach pain to go away, it doesn't take up too much."
"Those are some harsh words. Aren't angels supposed to be kind and generous?" Xander comments, nudging Michael's shoulder.
"Aren't dark elves supposed to be mean and evil?" Michael mocks.
"That's enough," I butt in, diffusing a possibly nasty fight. "Anyways, it seems like the poison is starting to kick in. From here, we have two options. First, we could notify Draven that his men got sick and replace them with a new batch to poison in order to limit the number of men that could retaliate against us. Second, we could keep the sick men and continue poisoning them in order to get them to do what we want."
Looking through the rearview mirror, Delic stares at me. "Why can't we do both?"
