Mosquito... a mosquito?
The Druid Sorcerers repeated this unfamiliar term, looking at the small black insect fluttering about the room—a deep black torso, two pairs of semi-transparent thin wings, a shallow layer of fluff covering its abdomen and chest, compound eyes formed by numerous overlapping eyes on its head, and most notably, the slender and delicate proboscis extending from between the eyes.
The body of this little bug was so minuscule that if one did not concentrate their spiritual power to carefully examine it, they wouldn't be able to track its movement at all.
There wasn't a trace of magic power within it, and its lifespan was pitifully short.
This so-called Fallen Angel was so fragile that an ordinary person could crush it between two fingers.
The Druid Sorcerers shook their heads in resignation, while also secretly breathing a sigh of relief. So it was just a little bug, no need to bother about it.
