
Any gratitude for the man died on Felix’s lips once the man told him his line of work. His face showed his horror before he corrected it with a forced smile, partly in vain as his black and blue eyes unveiled his panic.
“Ah, I see. That’s…great.” Demon Exorcist was just a nicer way of saying ‘Demon Killer,’ its only purpose was to make the humans and angels feel better. Either way, if the man knew what he was, he was as good as dead.
His hand seized the leather hilt of his sickle, if someone was watching it would have looked as if the blade had half formed out of his pants. Felix knew he could not aim for the eyes, or even the face. He was too short for that, only being close to 4’7. He would go for where he knew there was a space in armour.
Felix prepared himself; he was ready to run back into the forest where, if needed, he could possibly lose this man.
‘I should have known not to trust him.’