The glass bottle contained a black liquid that didn't behave naturally. Dhein inspected it for a while and then turned to Sullivan.
"And how do we do that?" he asked if not a bit impatiently.
Sullivan answered with a shrug.
"I have no idea."
"What do you mean, you have no idea?" Dhein questioned.
"It's true. In fact, this curse is never meant to be lifted. Attempting to reverse the procedure of making the cursed food itself is near impossible."
Dhein looked down on his hanging hand that held the bottle. Would they even have enough time to study and understand the curse and make the reversal potion?
He looked at Sullivan.
"One more question. Are you the one who's in control of turning the victims into monsters?"
The old man scratched his head.
"Ah, you mean those unfortunate souls. No, I have no control over that. Actually, I have eaten the cursed food myself. Your uncle, Raymond Theocheirós, has also eaten it."
Dhein's eyes opened wide, his breath hitched.
