Chapter 70: Forgotten

Grace stared in disbelief.

Eternia’s body glowed softly, her white hair floating like she was underwater. Her golden eyes were fixed on the ancient entity in front of her with an expression that mixed fondness and disappointment.

“Ah, you always were dramatic,” Eternia said, her voice echoing with power yet maintaining that playful lilt Grace knew all too well. “Trying to absorb my little angel? That’s just rude.”

The Root’s tendrils recoiled from Grace’s body. The chamber expanded, wood creaking and groaning as it pulled away.

“You… You abandoned us,” the Root hissed. “We shaped this world together, and you cast us aside.”

Eternia sighed, lowering her hand slightly.

“I didn’t abandon you. I moved on to more complex designs. That’s what creators do.” She gestured around the chamber. “And look at you now. You’ve continued your purpose—shaping, growing, creating. But… you’ve strayed now, haven’t you?”

Grace pushed herself to her knees, wincing at the pain from the Root’s invasion. The two primordial beings towered over her, literally and metaphorically—ancient powers arguing while she knelt between them.

“You replaced us!” The Root’s voice shook the chamber. “Created your precious Azrael to manage what we built together!”

“I created Azrael because I realized I didn’t want to look after Linaria by myself,” Eternia replied calmly. “It was never about replacing you.”

The Root pulsed with angry energy.

“LIES!”

Corrupted tendrils burst from every surface, thicker and darker than before. But this time, they didn’t aim for Grace. They shot straight at Eternia.

The goddess raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconcerned as the tendrils approached her glowing form. She made no move to defend herself.

“Look,” Eternia said softly, “I don’t want to destroy you.”

The tendrils struck, wrapping around Eternia’s arms and torso. Grace cried out in alarm, but Eternia remained calm, even as corruption began to spread across her radiant skin.

“So be it, then. Grace,” Eternia called, her voice steady. “I need your help, my little angel.”

Before Grace could respond, Eternia’s body dissolved into pure light that flowed directly into Grace’s medallion. The force of it knocked Grace onto her back. Heat spread from the medallion through her entire body, filling her with power she’d never felt before.

Golden text appeared in her vision:

「Temporary Status Boost」

Bravery: 38 → 78

Compassion: 44 → 84

Love: 15 → 55

「Channeling Eternia’s Essence」

Duration: Limited

Grace gasped as divine energy coursed through her veins.

She rose to her feet, her body moving with newfound strength and grace. Light radiated from her skin, and her rapier, when she drew it, blazed with golden fire.

“What is this?” the Root demanded, its chamber contracting in alarm. “What has she done?”

“She’s working through me,” Grace answered, her voice overlaid with harmonic tones that didn’t belong to her. “And I think she wants me to knock some sense into you.”

Immediately, the Root lashed out with a dozen corruption-filled tendrils.

Grace moved to dodge, but her body shot forward with unexpected speed. She slammed into the far wall of the chamber, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs.

[Whoa! Too fast!]

[Relax, Grace,] Eternia’s voice echoed in her mind. [You’re overthinking it. Your body knows what to do.]

Grace pushed herself up, wincing.

[Easy for you to say! You’re a goddess!]

More tendrils whipped toward her. Grace slashed with her rapier, cutting through three of them, but stumbled as her arm moved faster than she anticipated. The remaining tendrils wrapped around her legs, corruption seeping into her skin.

[Stop fighting the power. Let it flow through you naturally,] Eternia instructed. [You’re trying to control it with your mind instead of feeling it with your heart.]

[What does that even mean!?]

The Root pulled Grace toward its pulsing center.

“I will absorb both of you!”

Grace struggled against the tendrils, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. Each time she tried to focus her strength, it surged unpredictably, making her overcompensate.

[I can’t do this! It’s too much!]

[Breathe, Grace. Just breathe.]

Grace closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath despite the tendrils tightening around her body. She felt the corruption spreading up her legs, burning like acid.

[Remember when you first learned to use a rapier? You overthought every movement. But when you stopped trying so hard…]

Grace’s mind flashed to her training sessions with Seraph. The breakthrough had come not when she concentrated harder, but when she’d relaxed and trusted her instincts.

Another deep breath. Grace let the tension flow out of her muscles.

[That’s it. Now, feel the power. Don’t direct it—guide it.]

The Root yanked her closer. Grace’s eyes snapped open, but this time she didn’t fight against the pull. Instead, she flowed with it, using the momentum to spin her body. Her rapier traced a perfect arc of golden light, severing the tendrils wrapped around her.

She landed lightly on her feet, the movement as natural as breathing.

[Good. Now you’re getting it.]

The Root roared in frustration, the entire chamber shaking. Walls of thorny vines erupted from the floor, closing in from all sides.

Grace didn’t think. She moved.

Her body flowed between the thorns, rapier flashing. Each strike was precise, each dodge effortless. The power no longer felt foreign—it felt like an extension of herself, amplifying what was already there.

[This is… amazing!]

[It’s still you, Grace. Just… more of you, hehe.]

The Root’s attacks grew more frenzied. Corruption-filled spores filled the air, forcing Grace to hold her breath. Tendrils burst from every surface, creating a web of deadly vines.

Grace spun, her rapier trailing golden light as it sliced through the nearest vines. She leapt, higher than she thought possible, avoiding a cluster of tendrils that crashed together beneath her.

[Remember, you’re not here to destroy it. You’re here to heal it.]

Grace landed on a thick branch extending from the Root’s center. [Heal it? How?]

[The same way we heal everything else. How might that be?]

[By making out with it?]

[… No.]

[With Compassion.]

The branch beneath her feet writhed, trying to throw her off. Grace maintained her balance, her movements fluid and controlled. She was starting to understand this new power—not fighting against it, but dancing with it.

The Root’s center pulsed with angry, corrupted energy. Grace took a steadying breath and pointed her rapier toward it.

Grace steadied her breathing and focused on the Root’s pulsing center. The rapier in her hand felt lighter than air, its golden glow casting eerie shadows across the chamber. She could feel Eternia’s power flowing through her, not as an invasion but as a natural extension of herself.

“I don’t want to destroy you,” Grace said, echoing Eternia’s earlier words. “You were meant to create, not corrupt.”

The Root lashed out with another wave of tendrils. Grace sliced through them with fluid motions, her body moving with newfound grace and precision.

“You cannot understand,” the Root hissed. “Centuries of abandonment. Watching others take our place.”

Grace dodged a spray of acidic spores, rolling beneath them and coming up in a crouch.

“I do understand,” she replied, her voice steady despite the exertion. “Being created for a purpose. Feeling lost. Of course I understand!”

The chamber shuddered. For a moment, the attacks paused.

“Ridiculous. You? A mere angel?” The Root’s voice dripped with contempt.

Grace stood tall, rapier at her side.

“I was a turnip farmer before I was an angel. I died fighting a demon I had no business fighting.” She took a step forward. “Then I woke up with Eternia telling me I had a grand purpose—to save Linaria from demons. Do you think I felt prepared for that?”

The Root’s energy pulsed uncertainly.

“Every day, I question whether I’m doing what I’m supposed to do,” Grace continued, taking another step. “Whether I’m worthy of this power, this responsibility.”

[You are, you know,] Eternia’s voice whispered in her mind.

[Not helping right now,] Grace thought back.

A single tendril rose before Grace, less aggressive than before.

“You speak of doubt. We have suffered certainty—the certainty of abandonment.”

“Then let’s change that,” Grace said. She lowered her rapier completely, a gesture of trust that made her heart pound. “You were meant to shape this world, not poison it. This corruption—it’s hurting you as much as it’s hurting others.”

The Root’s energy fluctuated, its glow dimming slightly. Grace sensed an opening and pressed on.

“I propose a compromise,” she said. “Release me and stop corrupting Rosewood. In return, I’ll advocate for you and the other world shapers in the Angelic Dominion. The angels should know about those who helped create Linaria.”

“Words,” the Root responded bitterly. “Empty promises.”

Grace touched her medallion.

“I swear it by this connection to Eternia. The angels will know of your existence and your importance.”

The chamber fell silent. The corrupted energy surrounding the Root’s center flickered, then began to recede.

“You are… different,” the Root finally said. Its voice sounded weaker, the fury draining away. “Perhaps there is truth in your words.”

“There is,” Grace assured it. “The corruption is weakening you. Let it go.”

The Root’s center pulsed one final time before the corruption began to visibly withdraw. The tendrils retreated into the walls, and the oppressive atmosphere lightened.

“I accept your terms, angel,” the Root said. “But heed this warning: I am not the only pillar abandoned by your goddess. Others may not be so… reasonable.”

The wooden walls around Grace began to crack, sunlight streaming through the fissures. The tree was opening.

“I understand,” Grace said as the power within her began to fade. The temporary status boost was ending, Eternia’s essence returning to the medallion. “Thank you.”

—

[Well done. We shall discuss this later. I’m sure you have questions.]

And, with that, the power Grace felt in her medallion disappeared, probably indicating she wasn’t going to hear Eternia’s voice coming from it anytime soon.

The tree split open completely, revealing the village beyond. Grace stumbled out, suddenly feeling the weight of her normal body again. The divine power that had flowed through her was gone, leaving her exhausted but triumphant.

Diana rushed forward, catching Grace before she fell.

“Grace! What happened in there?”

Petriel, Willow, and the others gathered around, their faces a mix of concern and relief. Ivy stood among them, looking weak but free of corruption.

“The Root,” Grace gasped, leaning against Diana. “It was one of Linaria’s creators—abandoned when Eternia made Azrael. It was angry, corrupted by its own bitterness.”

“You talked to it?” Willow asked incredulously.

Grace nodded.

“Eternia appeared—through the medallion. She gave me power, and I… I made a deal with the Root. It’s going to stop corrupting Rosewood.”

“Just like that?” Diana’s voice was heavy with skepticism.

“In exchange, I promised to advocate for the world shapers in the Dominion,” Grace explained. “They deserve recognition for—”

The ground beneath them suddenly trembled. Birds scattered from nearby trees. A pressure descended on the village, heavy and unmistakable—the presence of immense power.

A flash of silver light erupted in the village center. When it faded, a figure stood there—tall and imposing, with long silver hair flowing in an unfelt breeze. Ice-blue eyes surveyed the scene, landing finally on Grace with an intensity that made her breath catch.

Grace got chills.

“Who…?”

Willow and Diana both froze.

And Willow said:

“Azrael.”

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