“This is a trap,” declared Magat as he took a step forward. “Make haste, Amias, hand me the Gauntlets and the Angelic sword. I will put this demon out of his misery.”
The Legionnaire’s frown deepened. “I told you, mortals. There is no need for violence. I have had enough.”
When Amias did not move, Magat hurried to bend down and pick the dull Gauntlets from the ground. He discarded his axe and strapped the gloves on. A blinding light flooded the surroundings as the third Angelic gift blazed with Divine fury. He scooped the dull sword off the hard-packed soil and it too burst into a bright radiance. “Lies!” he yelled. In a blur of movements, he rushed toward the young-looking demon that stood motionless in front of us.
With a loud roar, Magat brought the sword in a downward arc. The shar
