Chapter 23 – Little Warrior, Part Two

Dawn came too early for Grace’s liking. Who decided angels needed to be up before the sun? Was it Eternia? Why!?

She’d barely slept a wink anyway, tossing and turning all night while her brain helpfully supplied a bunch of awful scenarios of how a rookie angel versus rabid demon fight might go.

Likely not very well.

[What if it has, like, ten arms? Or shoots fire from its eyeballs? Or worse… what if I trip over my own feet and stab myself before the fight even starts?]

Grace stared at the pile of equipment Seraph had dumped in her room last night. A plain silver breastplate that looked two sizes too big for her, arm guards that would probably slide right off her skinny wrists mid-fight, and a basic sword that honestly seemed like it had seen better days. Possibly several centuries ago.

“Uwaaa….” She groaned before picking one up and throwing it across the room. “I’m so dead!”

Then she picked up the sword and gave it a half-hearted swing.

“Even if the demon doesn’t kill me, Seraph probably will when she sees how bad I suck at this.”

“Aww, don’t be so negative!” a voice chirped from her doorway.

“ACK!”

Grace yelped, nearly dropping the sword on her foot which would have been a fantastically embarrassing way to start her big first day of demon slaying.

Alia and Zephyr stood there, both grinning like they’d caught her doing something naughty instead of having an existential crisis.

“Don’t you two know how to knock?!” Grace demanded, clutching her chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“We did knock,” Zephyr said, gliding into the room smugly. It made Grace want to trip her somehow. “You were too busy talking to yourself to hear us.”

Alia bounced over to the equipment pile, poking at the breastplate with one finger.

“Wow, this is… something.”

“Something terrible, you mean,” Grace sighed. “It doesn’t even fit!”

“Probably Seraph’s idea of a joke,” Zephyr said, smirking. “Make the rookie look as ridiculous as possible for her first mission, you know?”

“Greeeeat!” Grace flopped down on her bed. She whined, turning and rolling and balling up. “Uuuuwaaaaaooohh…. I’ll be the laughingstock of the entire Angelic Dominion!”

“Nah, you’ll be fine!” Alia plopped down next to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Besides, you Bravery Sisters got something way cooler than this junk, right? That, uh, divine… weapon… thingy!”

Grace blinked. She’d almost forgotten about that.

Blade of Eternia, her system had called it. The ability to wield weapons made of divine light.

[Wait, can… Can I use that?]

“I… I don’t know if I can just make one appear whenever I want,” Grace said, frowning. “I… kinda haven’t tried that yet.”

“Well, no time like the present!” Alia bounced excitedly. “Try it! Try it!”

“I don’t even know how!”

Zephyr sat on the edge of the bed, looking thoughtful.

“Maybe it’s like healing? You know, focus on the divine energy and all that?”

Grace guessed it was worth a shot. She closed her eyes, trying to find that warm feeling in her chest again, the little sun that powered her healing abilities. It took a moment, but there it was, pulsing gently.

[Okay, divine light. I need a weapon. Something impressive. Something that screams ‘I can actually hurt stuff’!]

She focused on the warmth, willing it to flow down her arm and into her hand, but this time, instead of healing energy, she pictured a sword. An amazing, glowing, demon-slaying sword that would make even Diana shut her stupid mouth.

The warmth intensified, spreading down her arm like liquid fire. Her palm tingled, and she felt something solid materializing in her grip.

“Holy crap!” Alia squealed.

Grace’s eyes flew open. In her hand was a sword.

But not just any sword.

This one was made entirely of golden light. The light pulsed a couple of times. It felt weightless, like holding a beam of sunlight that had randomly decided to take the form of a blade.

… A very tiny, very thin, overall unimpressive blade.

But, still, a blade.

“Holy feathers!” Alia squealed, clapping, her eyes wider than dinner plates. “You actually did it!”

Grace stared at her creation. It was… well… kinda pathetic, honestly.

The glowing sword was barely over the size of a dagger, and so skinny it looked more like a golden toothpick. If this thing was supposed to strike fear into the hearts of demons, the only fear they’d feel was that they might die laughing.

[This is what my divine power created? This is all that my goddess herself could muster?]

“It’s… cute?” Zephyr offered, tilting her head as she examined the tiny light sword. She was obviously trying not to laugh. “Very… compact. Efficient!”

“It’s a glowing twig!” Grace said flatly. “I’m supposed to fight a demon with a magical glowing twig!?”

Alia bounced across the room, peering at it from all angles.

“Maybe it grows bigger when you’re in actual danger? Or when you’re really angry? Oh, OH! Maybe it works like a penis? You know, it might get bigger if you think about naked angels!”

“Alia!” Grace yelped, her face heating up. “Why would you even—”

“Worth a try,” Alia shrugged. “Come on. Picture Venus putting her—”

“I’M NOT DOING THAT!” Grace shrieked. Her face felt hot enough to cook eggs on.

No matter what she tried, the sword remained stubbornly tiny.

「Skill Used: Blade of Eternia (Lvl. 1)」

“Seraph is gonna laugh when she sees this,” Grace muttered, wanting to throw the damn thing away. “Hers is probably thick and massive. Mine’s so small… and weak.”

“Speaking of Seraph, aren’t you supposed to meet her at the eastern cliff in like… ten minutes or something?”

Grace’s eyes widened in horror.

“TEN MINUTES?! Why didn’t you say something sooner?!”

She leaped off the bed, the light sword vanishing as her concentration broke.

Frantically, she started strapping on the armor. She cursed as the breastplate slid onto her tiny frame.

“Here, here, let me help,” Zephyr said, adjusting the straps to make it slightly less ridiculous looking. “You know, they really should make armor in more sizes.”

“I’m sure they don’t expect vertically-challenged farm girls to become angels very often,” Grace muttered as Alia helped her with the arm guards.

“Vertically-challenged?” Alia asked, raising a brow at her.

“Oh, shut it,” Grace replied. Alia giggled.

Five minutes later, Grace resembled something like a cross between a warrior and a child playing dress-up in her parent’s clothes. The breastplate was as snug as they could make it (which wasn’t very), the arm guards were secured with extra leather straps Zephyr had conjured from somewhere, and the helmet… well, Grace had taken one look at the helmet and decided she’d rather risk decapitation than wear something that would completely swallow her head like that.

“How do I look?” she asked, spreading her arms.

Alia and Zephyr exchanged glances.

“Like you’re going to kick some serious demon butt!” Alia said with obviously fake enthusiasm.

“Like you’re… trying your best,” Zephyr added, more diplomatically.

[So, ridiculous. Got it.]

Soon, Grace wobbled down the celestial hallways like a drunk duckling, her oversized armor clanking with each step.

“Uuuuuhhh…” She nearly cried. The breastplate kept sliding to one side no matter how many times she yanked it back into place, and she was pretty sure one of her arm guards was about to make a break for freedom.

“Be cautious!” Zephyr called after her.

“Think sexy thoughts for your sword!” Alia yelled even louder, causing several passing angels to stop and stare. “Maybe that’ll make it bigger! Works for men, right?”

Grace’s face burned even hotter as she picked up her pace, armor rattling. Every few steps, the breastplate would slide down and smack her in the chin.

By the time she reached that cliff, she was sporting a lovely bruise on her jawline that she had to heal away and she was just about ready to throw her armor away.

Seraph was already there, looking like someone who’d actually fought stuff before. Her red hair blazed in the evening light, her muscles bulging as she did one-handed pushups while waiting. Heaven forbid she waste thirty seconds not exercising.

[How many pushups would I need to do to look like that? Probably more than I could do in a millennia.]

“THERE YOU ARE!” Seraph boomed, leaping to her feet with enough force to crack the marble beneath her. “READY TO SPILL SOME DEMON BLOOD?!”

“As ready as I’ll ever be…” Grace muttered, trying to stand tall despite her armor doing its best to drag her into a slouch.

Seraph circled her, eyeing the equipment. For a moment, Grace thought she might actually offer her something that fit. Instead, she threw back her head and laughed so hard birds scattered from nearby trees.

“PERFECT!” she roared. “Nothing says ‘rookie mission’ like armor that doubles as a torture device! It’s TRADITION!”

[Wait, what!? This was INTENTIONAL???]

“You… You…!” Grace pouted up at the woman who could probably fit her in the palm of one hand. She couldn’t believe this!

“Anyway, come on,” Seraph grabbed Grace by the shoulders, nearly dislocating them in her enthusiasm. “Remember your training! Stick close to me! And if you die, I’ll PERSONALLY drag your soul back from the afterlife just to make you do a thousand laps!”

Before Grace could process that terrifying promise, Seraph shoved her toward the cliff they’d be jumping off of in a moment.

[Eternia, you weird goddess. Please don’t let me embarrass myself.]

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