Becoming The Strongest Angel With A Saintess System-Chapter 33: The Celestial Banquet, Part Seven

The balcony was eerily quiet compared to the celebration inside. Grace's footsteps echoed against the white stone floor as she approached the mysterious angel, who stood with her back to Grace, looking out at the endless sky.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" the angel said without turning around. Her voice was smooth but had a weird edge to it. Like someone trying too hard to sound normal.

"Uh, I guess so," Grace replied, stopping a safe distance away. Through her Aura Sight, the blue-purple energy swirling around the angel looked even stronger out here. It pulsed and writhed like it was alive.

Grace swallowed.

[Okay, okay... Calm down. Your Aura Sight says that it can't identify targets that are too strong, so... That should mean this girl isn't that strong, right?]

The angel turned slowly. Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"You're the one everyone's talking about. The demon killer." She tilted her head. "I'm Isolde."

"... Grace," she introduced herself.

"I know who you are," Isolde said. Her fingers twitched at her sides. "Everyone knows who you are."

Grace's medallion felt hot against her skin. Like it was warning her.

"Why did you leave the toast?" Grace asked, trying to sound casual.

"Why did you follow me?" Isolde shot back.

[... Good question. Can't exactly just say "well, Eternia is in my head, and she sorta told me you're a problem", huh?]

"I just... wanted some air too," Grace lied.

Isolde laughed. It sounded wrong, like she'd practiced laughing but hadn't quite gotten it right.

"Air? Angels don't need air." Her eyes darted around, never settling. "Did you know I was there when the first human city was built? They stacked stones on top of each other. So primitive. I watched them for seventy years. Then they all died."

Grace blinked, thrown off by the sudden change in topic.

"That's... interesting?"

"And the Great Flood! The water just kept rising. So many prayers. So many prayers we didn't answer." Isolde's hands were definitely shaking now. "And then there was the year of darkness. Have you heard of that? The sun disappeared for nearly twelve months. Humans thought the world was ending."

[Something is very wrong with her.]

"Isolde, are you okay?"

"Okay?" Isolde echoed, her voice rising. "Am I okay? What a strange question. I've been alive for so long. I've watched communities rise and fall. I've counted every star in the sky. Twice." She laughed that wrong laugh again. "And now here you are."

Grace took a step back.

"I think I should go find Celestia—"

"AAHH!"

It happened so fast Grace barely saw it. One moment Isolde was standing still, the next she was lunging forward, a weapon materializing in her hand. It looked like a sword but made of swirling black and red energy—the opposite of Grace's golden Blade of Dawn.

"ACK!"

Off pure instinct alone, Grace dove to the side, the blade missing her by inches. She rolled across the crystal floor and jumped to her feet, her formal dress tangling around her legs.

"W-What are you doing?!" Grace shouted.

Isolde didn't answer. Her face had changed, her beauty distorting into something feral and hungry. The blue-purple aura around her intensified, leaking from her eyes and mouth like smoke.

[Oh crap oh crap oh crap!]

Grace frantically focused on her divine energy, summoning her Blade of Dawn. The golden weapon materialized in her hand just in time to deflect Isolde's next strike.

The impact sent shockwaves through Grace's arm.

Isolde was STRONG.

"I just want to talk!" Grace tried, backing away.

"Too late for talking," Isolde hissed, her voice no longer smooth but raspy and raw. "You shouldn't exist. You shouldn't be possible!"

She struck again, a flurry of slashes that Grace barely managed to dodge. The formal dress was seriously limiting her movement. One slash caught the fabric, tearing a huge gash in the skirt.

[The twins are going to be so mad about this.]

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Grace had no real plan except to stay alive. Some of Diana's defensive training kicked in—she blocked when she could, dodged when she couldn't, created distance whenever possible. But she was being driven back step by step toward the edge of the balcony.

"Why are you doing this?" Grace gasped, parrying another blow.

"Because... Because... Because you can KILL us!" Isolde shrieked. "If you can truly erase demons, what's to stop you from erasing US?"

She lunged again, faster than before. This time, Grace wasn't quick enough.

The black-red blade plunged straight through her chest.

Grace froze, staring down in shock at the weapon impaling her. There was no pain at first, just a weird pressure. Then it hit—burning, searing agony that made her scream.

"AAAAAH!"

Isolde yanked the blade out, and Grace collapsed to her knees. She pressed her hand to the wound, expecting blood, but there was none. Just a hole in her dress and a glowing golden light spilling from her chest.

It still hurt in an ungodly way, but she wasn't dying.

[I'm not dead. Why am I not dead?]

The realization hit her—angels couldn't kill other angels. She remembered Diana mentioning it during training. They could hurt each other, sure. Wound each other, certainly. But not kill. Only Primal Demons could kill angels, and only Grace could kill demons.

It didn't make the pain any less excruciating though.

"Get up," Isolde snarled. "I'm not done with you yet."

Grace staggered to her feet, clutching her Blade of Dawn, her hands trembling.

"You can't kill me," Grace said, her voice shaky.

"You're right... But I can make you wish I could."

Isolde attacked again. This time Grace was ready, blocking the first strike, but Isolde was too fast, too experienced. Her next blow sliced across Grace's arm, then another caught her shoulder, and a third slashed across her stomach.

Each wound blazed with that horrible burning pain, making it harder and harder to focus. Grace's knees buckled, and she fell back against the balcony railing, her blade barely held up in defense.

Grace realized then Isolde had been cutting another place all this while too. Grace's wings.

Isolde approached slowly now, savoring the moment.

"Any last words before I throw you off this balcony? The fall won't kill you, but it'll take you a while to crawl back up here." She raised her blade.

Isolde smiled. It was all teeth and no joy.

She brought the blade down in what would have been a devastating blow—

But it never landed.

There was a flash of gold and the clash of metal on metal. Someone was standing between Grace and Isolde, blocking the strike with a massive golden sword.

Diana.