Becoming The Strongest Angel With A Saintess System

{Seraph}

Outside the volcano, the waiting was absolutely killing them. Alia was about to lose her shit.

"This is so fucking stupid." She kicked a rock down the slope, watching it bounce and scatter smaller pebbles. "We should be in there helping her!"

"No." Seraph tried to make her voice as commanding as possible. If she was being honest, she was saying this as much to Alia as she was to herself. "We wait."

"But—"

"No buts." Seraph cracked one eye open. "Well, except yours. On the ground. Now."

Alia flopped down with what Seraph guessed was the most dramatic sigh she could manage.

"She could be getting her butt kicked in there right now."

"She’s definitely getting her ass kicked. That’s literally the whole plan."

"How is that supposed to make me feel better?!"

"Because the Flame wants to make her suffer. Can’t suffer if you’re a pile of ash." Seraph stretched her arms above her head.

Valkyrie, who’d been doing her best statue impression this whole time, finally decided to contribute.

"That’s... really not as reassuring as you think it is, Commander."

"It’s realistic." Seraph shrugged. "The Flame’s got centuries of rage built up. You think she’s gonna waste that on a quick kill? Nah. She wants to savor this."

Zephyr shifted nervously on her rock, white hair falling into her face as she braided and unbraided it for like the tenth time. Her brown fingers worked the strands, trembling slightly.

"But what if something goes wrong? What if—"

"Look, you wanna help Grace? Then plant your asses and wait. If we charge in there like idiots, if we interrupt whatever’s happening, the Flame might completely lose her shit."

"So?" Alia crossed her arms under her small chest. "Isn’t she already losing her shit?"

"Controlled shit-losing versus uncontrolled shit-losing. Big difference." Seraph rubbed her neck absently, right where her head had been reattached. The skin there still looked a bit pink. "Right now, all that rage is focused on Grace. We bust in? That rage goes everywhere. Including..."

She gestured broadly toward the base of the mountain.

"Oh." Alia’s mouth clicked shut. "The village."

"Yeah. The village full of innocent people who can actually die. Permanently." Seraph’s expression softened just a fraction. "The Flame needs this. She needs to let it all out on someone who can take it. Grace knows that. That’s why she went in alone."

"The plan where Grace gets turned into a punching bag still sucks though," Alia muttered.

But she stayed put. Even pulled Zephyr down to sit in her lap, wrapping her arms around her best friend’s waist. Zephyr leaned back into the embrace.

"How long do we wait?" Zephyr asked quietly.

Seraph closed her eyes again.

"As long as it takes."

---

{Grace}

Inside the volcano, Grace was having the absolute worst time of her extremely short angelic existence.

And that included dying. At least that had been quick.

This? This was not quick.

The Flame circled her like a big cat playing with its food. Slow. Deliberate. Enjoying every second. Her massive flaming sword dragged along the ground, leaving molten grooves in the volcanic stone that glowed orange-hot.

[Fuck fuck fuck this hurts so much why did I think this was a good idea?]

"You know what the funny thing is?" The Flame’s voice was conversational. Like they were having tea instead of... whatever this was.

Grace spat blood. Again. She was pretty sure she was running out of blood to spit at this point. Her mouth tasted like copper and ash.

"What?" She managed to croak out.

"I used to worship you."

The Flame’s boot connected with Grace’s ribs. Hard. Grace had learned to roll with the hits by now though, came up on one knee instead of sprawling. Progress!

Another swing of that massive sword. Grace ducked, feeling the heat singe her white hair.

"I thought you were perfect."

"Nobody’s perfect." Grace wheezed. Her ribs were definitely cracked. Maybe broken.

"No. But you came close." The Flame’s voice turned bitter, centuries of pain bleeding through. "Beautiful. Powerful. Kind. Everything I wanted to be. Everything I tried to be. Everything I couldn’t be." ƒrēenovelkiss.com

She moved faster than Grace could track. One second Grace was crouched, the next the Flame had her by the throat, slamming her back into the chamber wall hard enough to crack the stone.

"Then I realized what you really were. A coward who couldn’t handle her own emotions."

Grace clawed at the hand crushing her windpipe. Useless. The Flame was way too strong. Level 100 strong, if Grace had to guess. Those question marks over her head still hadn’t changed into actual numbers.

"So you dumped them on us. Your faithful servants. Your devoted creations." The grip tightened. Grace’s vision started going black around the edges. "Did you think we wouldn’t notice? That we’d just... accept it?"

Just before Grace passed out, the Flame dropped her. She hit the ground hard, gasping and choking.

Grace struggled to her hands and knees. Everything hurt. Her nose was definitely broken—she could feel the blood dripping steadily onto the ground. Pretty sure several ribs were cracked. Her left shoulder screamed when she tried to move it.

But she got back up. Swaying, but standing.

"Good. You’re still standing." The Flame raised her sword, flames dancing along the blade. "I’d hate it if I broke you too quickly."

The next strike came impossibly fast. Grace threw herself sideways, but not fast enough.

Not nearly fast enough.

The blade caught her left arm just below the shoulder.

For a heartbeat, Grace didn’t understand what happened. Time seemed to slow as she watched her arm separate from her body, spinning through the air trailing an arc of blood. It hit the ground with a wet sound that she’d probably hear in her nightmares forever.

Then the pain hit.

"AAAAAAH!"

She grabbed at the stump, blood pouring between her fingers. Hot. So much blood. It spurted with each heartbeat, painting the ground in rhythmic splashes.

"Hurts, doesn’t it?" The Flame watched with deep satisfaction, like Grace’s agony was the best wine she’d ever tasted. "Good. Now you know a fraction of what I feel every second of every day."

Grace fell to her knees. The pain was indescribable. White-hot agony radiating from where her arm used to be, spreading through her whole body like poison.

"Stop looking so pathetic." The Flame’s boot caught her in the chest. Grace went sprawling, unable to catch herself with just one arm. "You’re a goddess. Act like it."

"I—" Grace tried to protest through gritted teeth.

"Shut up." Another kick, this one to her stomach. Grace curled up instinctively, trying to protect what was left of her body.

Blood pooled beneath Grace, spreading in an ever-widening puddle. Too much blood. Way too much. If she could die, she’d probably be dead already.

"Get up."

She couldn’t. Her remaining arm shook when she tried to push herself up. Everything was going dark and fuzzy around the edges.

"I said GET UP!"

Fire erupted around them, the temperature spiking so high Grace’s skin immediately blistered. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. Her flesh.

"We’re not done. We’re not even close to done." The Flame grabbed a fistful of Grace’s white hair, hauling her upright. Grace bit back a scream. "I’ve been waiting for this moment for so fucking long. You don’t get to pass out on me now."

She threw Grace across the chamber like a rag doll. Grace hit the far wall with a sickening crunch and slid down, leaving a bloody smear on the stone.

"Centuries, Eternia. CENTURIES of carrying your hatred. Your fury. Your rage. Everything you were too weak to face yourself."

Grace tried to push herself up with her remaining arm. Failed. Tried again. Her whole body shook with the effort.

"It poisoned everything I touched. Corrupted everyone who came near me." The Flame stalked closer, each step leaving molten footprints. "Do you know how many angels I’ve killed? How many mortals? All because you filled me with rage I never asked for?"

A boot to the stomach. Grace coughed up more blood, adding to the abstract art piece she was creating on the floor.

"Answer me!"

"I... I don’t..." Grace wheezed.

"Of course you don’t. Why would you care?" The Flame crouched beside her, close enough that Grace could see her own reflection in those burning eyes. "You got what you wanted. You got to be the perfect goddess while we became monsters."

She grabbed Grace’s face with both hands, forcing eye contact. Her touch burned, but not as much as the pain in her voice.

"Look at me. LOOK AT WHAT YOU MADE ME!"

Grace looked. Really looked.

"I see you," Grace whispered through bloody lips.

The Flame’s grip tightened enough to bruise.

"No. You see what you want to see. You always have. Always making excuses, always—"

She cut herself off. Stood abruptly. Raised her sword high.

"But I’ll make you understand. Even if it takes another century. Even if I have to cut you apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left."

The blade came down.

Grace rolled desperately. The sword struck where she’d been lying, shattering stone and sending chunks flying.

[Move. MOVE!]

She scrambled away on her remaining hand and knees. Pathetic. Probably looked like a wounded animal. But alive. Still technically alive.

Something chimed in her head. That familiar System notification sound.

[Quest Received: Exhaust the Flame through combat]

[Reward: +20 Bravery]

Grace almost laughed. Almost. Would have if she had any air in her lungs.

Combat? This wasn’t combat. This was her getting her ass thoroughly kicked while missing an arm and probably about to lose more pieces.

But...

She looked at the Flame again. Really looked. At the centuries of pain twisted into rage. At someone who’d been carrying Eternia’s burden alone for so fucking long it had driven her half-mad.

[She needs this. Just like the Tide needed to not be alone anymore. Like the Root needed someone to acknowledge his pain.]

The Flame needed to let it out.

All of it.

Every last drop of rage, every moment of betrayal, every second of agony.

And Grace was the only one who could take it. The only one who could survive it.

[Well. "Survive" might be a strong word right now.]

She pushed herself upright. Swayed dangerously. Blood loss was making her dizzy. But she stood.

"That’s more like it." The Flame smiled. It was a terrible expression, all teeth and malice. "Ready for round two?"

Grace raised her remaining fist. Blood still poured from her stump, painting her side red, but she ignored it. Had to ignore it.

"Bring it on, you... you... flaming bitch!"

The Flame’s smile widened into something genuinely delighted.

"Oh, I will. We’ve got all the time in the world, Eternia. And I plan to use every. Single. Second of it."

Grace set her stance as best she could with one arm.

Everything hurt. She was probably going to lose more body parts before this was over. The Flame was going to beat her into the ground over and over until either the rage burned out or Grace was nothing but a talking head like Seraph had been.

[This is going to be a very, very long day.]

But Grace was ready.

Sort of.

Maybe.