Becoming The Strongest Angel With A Saintess System-Chapter 71: Mistaken Identity

Grace stared at the imposing figure before her, recognition dawning despite never having met her in person.

The silver-haired angel from her medallion visions stood in the flesh, that was for sure, but something was... different. Azrael’s skin had taken on a more grayish tint, darker than in the visions Grace had glimpsed. Her muscles were more defined, rippling beneath her skin with each slight movement, like she’d spent the last 1000 years doing push-ups or something.

A chill ran down Grace’s spine. The same cold sensation she experienced when demons were nearby.

And above Azrael’s head, in silver text that only Grace could see:

Level 100

Grace’s mouth went dry.

Diana stepped forward, her hand moving to her sword. Willow tensed beside her, green divine energy crackling between her fingers. The atmosphere crackled with tension.

Azrael’s ice-blue eyes flicked between them, one eyebrow arching elegantly.

"Are you challenging me?" Her voice was smooth as silk but carried an edge that made Grace’s knees weak. There was power in that voice—ancient and dangerous.

Diana’s hand froze on her sword hilt. After a moment’s hesitation, she lowered it and took a step back.

"No," Diana said, her voice tight. "We’re not."

Willow’s energy dissipated as she too backed down, though her eyes remained wary.

Grace couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

Azrael’s presence alone was overwhelming, like standing before a storm contained in the form of a very tall, very strong woman. Every instinct told her to run, yet she remained rooted to the spot.

The silver-haired, blue-eyed angel approached casually, her gaze sweeping over the village. The damaged tree. The recovering villagers. There was something almost curious in her expression, as if she hadn’t expected what she found.

When those piercing blue eyes finally settled on Grace, she felt exposed, transparent. As if Azrael could see through her, into her, reading every thought and memory with a single glance.

"Ah," Azrael said, stopping a few paces away. "So you’re the new rookie angel that just popped up, right?"

The casual tone caught Grace off guard. After all the tension, after the way Diana and Willow had reacted, she’d expected... something else. Threats, perhaps. Demands. Not this almost conversational approach.

"I—yes," Grace managed, her voice embarrassingly small. "I’m Grace."

Azrael tilted her head, studying Grace with unsettling intensity.

"Grace," she repeated, as if testing the name. She looked Grace up and down and, somehow, Grace had never felt smaller. "Interesting choice."

Grace wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Had Eternia chosen her name? Was she talking about her as a whole? She couldn’t tell.

"You’ve been busy," Azrael continued, gesturing toward the tree. "Communing with the Root. Not many angels even know of its existence anymore."

"It was corrupting the village," Grace explained, finding her voice. "People were suffering."

"And you fixed it." It wasn’t a question. "How?"

Grace hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. Diana had moved closer to her, a protective presence at her back.

"I made a deal," Grace said finally. "It agreed to stop the corruption."

Azrael’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"Just like that? The Root has nursed its grievances for millennia. What did you offer in return?"

"Recognition," Grace answered honestly. "Acknowledgment of its role in creating Linaria."

Something flickered across Azrael’s face—surprise, perhaps, or something deeper. freewёbnoνel.com

"Bold, I suppose," she said after a moment. "Very bold for a rookie."

Grace felt a strange mix of fear and... was that pride? The approval in Azrael’s voice shouldn’t have mattered to her, yet somehow it did.

"The medallion helped," Grace admitted, her hand moving unconsciously to touch it. "Eternia spoke through it."

At the mention of Eternia, Azrael’s expression hardened, the temperature around them dropping several degrees.

"Of course she did," Azrael said, her voice suddenly cold.

The shift in tone was jarring. Grace took an instinctive step back, bumping into Diana who steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.

Azrael seemed to notice her reaction and made a visible effort to soften her expression.

"My apologies," she said, though she didn’t sound particularly sorry. "Old... frustrations. They’re not directed at you."

Grace held her breath as Azrael’s gaze lingered on her. The fallen angel’s aura felt... wrong. Not entirely angelic, not entirely demonic—something in between that made Grace’s skin prickle with unease.

"I came here because I sensed her," Azrael said abruptly, her voice carrying an undercurrent of frustration. "Eternia. I felt her presence, her energy signature. It was unmistakable."

Grace’s heart hammered against her ribs. Of course—the moment when Eternia had manifested through the medallion to confront the Root. That burst of divine energy must have been like a beacon, drawing Azrael straight to them.

Diana tensed behind her. Petriel shifted nervously to the side. Even Willow, who had seemed so confident before, looked ready to bolt at any moment.

[Thanks a lot for the backup, guys,] Grace almost sighed. She couldn’t blame them too much, though. Especially given that, unlike them, she could quite literally see, in big, bold letters, how strong this woman was.

"She’s not here," Grace said, finding a steadiness in her voice that surprised even herself. She straightened her spine and met Azrael’s piercing blue eyes directly. "It’s just me."

Something flashed across Azrael’s face—disappointment? Disbelief? Grace couldn’t quite read it. She just hoped what happened next wouldn’t be her skewering Grace into a Grace kebab.

"Just you," Azrael repeated, taking a step closer.

Everyone around Grace tensed. Diana’s hand returned to her sword. Willow’s fingers twitched, ready to summon her power. Even the villagers who had gathered at a distance seemed to collectively hold their breath.

Grace stood her ground, though her knees threatened to buckle. Azrael towered over her, radiating power that made the air feel heavy and electric.

The fallen angel reached out a hand.

Diana got halfway through materializing her sword.

"Don’t—"

But instead of attacking, Azrael simply placed her hand on Grace’s head, patting it gently.

[... Huh?]

The gesture was so unexpected, so incongruous with the tension of the moment, that Grace could only blink in confusion.

"Right," Azrael said, and her expression softened. Just a little, such a small change Grace almost missed it. The tiniest hint of warmth crept into those ice-blue eyes. "I appear to have been mistaken."

She withdrew her hand, and Grace felt the absence of its weight immediately. Something about that brief contact had felt... familiar, maybe? Not threatening, anyway, despite everything she knew about who Azrael was supposed to be.

"Of course Eternia wouldn’t be here..." Azrael continued, her gaze sweeping over the village once more. "Ah, she disappeared long ago, gone for good... My mistake. I do apologize for the intrusion, little angel."

And just like that, she turned away.

No threats, no demands, no conflict. As if she’d simply stopped by to check on a rumor and, finding it false, had no further business there.

Grace watched, dumbfounded, as Azrael walked a few paces away. The fallen angel paused, glancing back over her shoulder.

"Interesting village you’ve chosen to save," she remarked casually. "The Root has been a thorn in many sides for a very long time. Perhaps I should thank you for... pacifying it. Perhaps. Oh, and, I almost forgot. That business at the Banquet." She bowed slightly. "One of my subordinates caused you some trouble. I do apologize for that as well. Take care."

Before Grace could respond, Azrael spread her wings—massive, beautiful wings that seemed to shimmer between white and a subtle, dark iridescence—and launched herself into the sky with a single powerful beat.

The gust of wind from her departure made Grace stumble backward. Diana caught her arm, steadying her.

As soon as that happened, everyone released a collective breath they’d been holding.

"What the fuck was that? What just happened" Diana whispered, her voice tight with lingering tension.

Grace stared at the rapidly diminishing figure in the sky.

"I have no idea."

Petriel approached cautiously, her hands still trembling.

"W-Was that really...?"

"Azrael," Willow confirmed, her expression grim. "Leader of the Veil. I’ve never seen her in person before."

Grace touched her head where Azrael’s hand had rested. The gesture replayed in her mind—not threatening, almost... affectionate? No, that couldn’t be right.

"She just... left," Grace said, still struggling to process what had happened. "Why would she just leave?"

Diana sheathed her sword fully, though her posture remained alert.

"Maybe she really was just looking for Eternia."

"Or maybe she found exactly what she was looking for," Willow murmured, giving Grace a strange look that made her stomach tighten.

Grace’s hand moved to her medallion, warm against her skin. The golden surface pulsed with a gentle heat, as if responding to her touch—or perhaps to the lingering presence of the Veil’s leader. Had Azrael sensed something in her? Some connection to Eternia that went beyond the medallion? The way those ice-blue eyes had studied her face, searching for something familiar... it had felt intensely personal, like being recognized by someone who should have been a stranger.

Something told her this wouldn’t be their last encounter.