Blood fled from the Wanderer’s face. All of a sudden, his skin looked as pale as a white sheep's wool. His chest rose and fell as he probably tried to wrap his head around the demand of the Legionnaire in front of him. “But Paimon,” he began, his lips trembling as he spoke.
The demon did not let Amias continue what he was about to say. “That is my request, old friend. Give me your soul and I will hand the Angel’s gift to your… companions,” he said as his eyes shifted to the three of us.
A storm brewed inside my chest. “No,” I said with conviction as I took a step forward and pointed the sword at Paimon. “You are not taking his soul or anyone’s for that matter.”
The Legionnaire’s gaze turned into a deathly stare as his eyes burst into rolling flames. “You come here barging into my territory an……
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