Amina felt her eyelids grow as heavy as a thousand pounds, while the spear in her hand grew so weighty that she could barely hold on to it.
No!
She suddenly bit down hard on the tip of her tongue. The sharp pain jolted her awake.
The Divine Might within her began to circulate. It was a double blessing from the Water God and the God of Life—one cool and one warm—which barely managed to keep the gray mist invading her mind at bay.
"Everyone! Steady your minds! This is the enemy's power!"
Amina shouted sharply, but her voice trembled faintly under the strain of resisting it.
Her shout allowed several team members with equally strong wills to barely regain their senses. They followed Amina's example, using pain to stimulate themselves and resist that invisible drowsiness.
But more people had already collapsed.
They were not dead, nor were they injured. They simply lay on the ground, their faces wearing a peaceful expression of relief, as if they had fallen asleep.
The man beneath the shade of the tree—the chief of the Sloth Tribe—seemed to have anticipated all of this.
He did not even glance at Amina and the others. He merely shifted into a more comfortable position and spoke in a dreamy tone.
"Do you see now... how painful it is to resist?"
"Truth cannot be resisted."
"Give up, children. Embrace this tranquility, and you'll discover that this is the true meaning of life."
His voice was not loud, yet it carried a strange magic. Every word turned into a soft bed, inviting the listeners' souls to lie down.
Kyle was sweating profusely with anxiety. He desperately shook the fallen companion beside him, but it had no effect.
"Wake up! All of you, wake up!"
"It's useless."
Amina's voice was