Becoming The Strongest Angel With A Saintess System

They made it halfway to town before the rescue party found them.

"GRACE!"

Alia’s voice cut through the desert heat.

"ARE YOU—oh my god what the FUCK?"

Three shapes dropped from the sky like angry pigeons. Alia, Zephyr, and Valkyrie landed in a cloud of dust and immediately froze.

Grace stood there, covered in ash and sweat, holding Seraph’s severed head.

"Hey," Seraph’s head said casually.

Alia screamed.

"IT TALKS!"

"Of course I talk, you dumb angel," Seraph sounded offended. "I’m not dead, you know."

"BUT YOUR HEAD—"

"Is temporarily disconnected from my body, yes. Very observant." frёewebnoѵēl.com

Zephyr circled them slowly, eyes so wide Grace could see the whites all around. Valkyrie just stood there with her mouth hanging open like she’d been hit with a stick.

"Seraph," Valkyrie said finally. "The strongest warrior in heaven after Celestia. Got decapitated?"

"It happens."

"IT DOES NOT!"

Alia reached out with one finger, trembling, and poked Seraph’s cheek. Then poked again, harder.

"Stop that," Seraph grumbled.

"This is so weird!" Alia kept poking, fascinated. "How are you talking? Where’s your body? Does it hurt? Can you feel your toes? What happens if I—"

"No, somewhere back there stumbling around, only a little, and no." Seraph tried to bite Alia’s finger and missed. "Now stop poking me or I’ll bite you!"

"You can’t bite me, you’re just a head!"

"Watch me!"

"... We should get inside," Grace interrupted. Her arms were getting tired. "Before the Flame decides to come finish the job."

---

The inn’s common room looked like crap. Or, no, maybe this was one of those things where one’s own bad mood made things around them seem worse than they were, but Grace wasn’t too sure. Scorch marks decorated the walls from last night’s demon attack. Half the furniture was ash.

The innkeeper took one look at Seraph’s head and immediately poured himself a drink that could strip paint.

"Don’t mind us," Grace called as they trooped past. "Just... angel stuff."

"Angel stuff," the man repeated flatly. Then he poured another drink.

They commandeered a corner table that hadn’t been torched. Alia sat down, with Seraph’s head on her lap. Which led to the absolutely surreal image of their commander’s head resting on Alia’s thighs while everyone tried to pretend this was totally normal.

"So," Valkyrie cut in before things got weirder. "What the fuck happened out there?"

Grace rubbed her temples. Where to even start?

"The Flame, like the other Pillars, thinks I’m Eternia." She sighed. "I tried to explain. She didn’t care. Started going on about being an emotional trash bin—"

"A what now?"

"Eternia’s... rage... dump. Whatever." Grace waved her hand. "Point is, she’s pissed. Then she moved faster than anything has a right to move and—"

Grace gestured at Seraph’s head.

"You know, Grace didn’t do too badly herself," Seraph added. "For about three seconds. Then I had to save her ass and lost my body doing it. Worth it, obviously, but still annoying."

Zephyr leaned forward, fascinated despite herself.

"What was she like? The Flame?"

"Angry." Grace slumped in her chair. "Really, really fucking angry. Like, imagine the angriest person you know, then set them on fire and give them... god powers."

"Sounds hot," Alia said. "Literally."

Everyone stared at her.

"What? Puns are a valid coping mechanism!"

"We need a new plan," Valkyrie said, getting back on track. "I say we go in force. All of us. Overwhelm her with numbers."

"That’s stupid," Alia said immediately.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Stupid." Alia’s usual bouncy cheer vanished. "If Seraph—literal Seraph, commander of the Bravery Sisters, certified badass—couldn’t beat her, what chance do we have? We’d just give her more heads to collect."

"Then what do you suggest?" Valkyrie’s scarred hands clenched into fists. "Let her keep burning villages? Let more people die?"

"Of course not! But rushing in to die won’t help anyone!"

"Both of you, shut up."

Seraph’s head somehow managed to look authoritative despite being, you know, just a head.

"Grace. You’ve dealt with two Pillars already. How?"

Grace thought about it. Really thought about it.

The Root had wanted acknowledgment. Recognition for its role in creating the world. So she’d listened. Promised to remember.

The Tide had been drowning in loneliness. So she’d given her connection... And by connection, she meant she’d fucked the Tide’s brains out until she stopped trying to turn people into fish.

[What does pure rage want?]

"I gave them what they needed," Grace said slowly. "What Eternia took from them when she shoved her emotions into them."

"And the Flame?"

"Well, she’s rage. Eternia’s anger given form." Grace sat up straighter as pieces clicked together. "So... M-Maybe she doesn’t want to be calmed down. She doesn’t want peace. She wants..."

"A fight," Seraph finished.

"Maybe. But, I think it makes sense. A real fight. Not to win or lose but to... let it out. Like, uh, cosmic anger management."

Seraph blinked, which in her headless form was like a nod.

"I think Grace might be right. Given the fact that she decapitated me, she absolutely was fast enough to take Grace down too if she wanted. So..."

"So she probably let me get away," Grace finished.

Valkyrie frowned so hard her scar twisted.

"So, what? You’re going to fight her?"

"Not to win." Grace knew how insane this sounded. "I mean, she’d absolutely just wreck me. Just... to give her what she needs. A target. Someone to beat the shit out of until she feels better."

"That’s suicide," Valkyrie said flatly.

"No. It would be, if I could die," Grace stated and Valkyrie had no comeback.

Grace looked down at her commander’s head. Seraph’s expression was thoughtful, which was weird on a disembodied head.

"It could work," Seraph said finally. "The logic’s relatively sound. Sound enough for this batshit situation we’re in. But you’d need to last long enough for her to burn through millennia of rage. Right now? She’d turn you to ash in seconds."

"So, what do I do?"

Seraph grinned.

"What else? Train!"

"Train?" Alia’s voice went squeaky. "She literally cut your head off!"

"And I’m fine," Seraph pointed out.

"YOU’RE A TALKING HEAD!"

"Details."

Zephyr had been quiet through all this, which was unusual. Now she spoke up.

"How long do you think you’d need? To train?"

Grace looked at Seraph. Her commander’s disembodied eyes narrowed in thought. Seraph eventually said:

"A week. Minimum. And that’s if we push hard. Like, ’you might die from training’ hard."

"The town can’t take another week of attacks," Valkyrie said.

"They’ll have to." Grace stood up. "Unless someone has a better idea?"

Silence.

"Right. Then... we train." She looked down at Seraph. "Think your body will, uh, catch up to us soon?"

"Should be here within the hour. Two at most. It’s probably walking into walls right now."

"Good. Because I’m gonna need you in one piece if I’m going to survive getting my ass kicked by a god."

Alia raised her hand like they were in class.

"Can I ask a question?"

"What?"

"Why do all these Pillars think you’re Eternia? Like, you’re obviously not. You’re way too short."

"Thanks for that."

"And skinny! Eternia had huge—" Alia made a very generous gesture at her chest. "And you’re more..." She made a much smaller gesture.

"I get it."

"Though, maybe if we got you some padding—"

"Alia."

"Or a really good push-up bra—"

"ALIA."

"Sorry! Just brainstorming!"

Grace sighed so hard her soul felt tired.

A heavy thud from outside made everyone jump. Then another. Like footsteps, but wrong somehow.

"Oh wow," Seraph said casually. "That’s probably my body. It got here kinda early."

The door burst open. Seraph’s headless body stumbled in, arms outstretched like the world’s worst zombie. It immediately walked into a table.

The innkeeper took one look, downed his entire drink, and poured another.

"Over here!" Seraph called cheerfully.

Her body changed direction, knocked over two chairs, bumped into Valkyrie, then finally made it to their table. It stood there swaying slightly.

"How do we..." Alia held up Seraph’s head uncertainly.

"Just plop me on top. It’ll, uh, slowly reconnect to me."

Alia carefully placed the head on the neck stump. For a while, nothing happened. But, then, Grace could slowly see Seraph’s neck trying to reconnect with her head like an old friend.

[This is so weird.]

"Anyway, one week," Grace said. "Think you can teach me to not die immediately?"

Seraph grinned.

All teeth and danger.

"I can try. But Grace?" Her expression turned serious. "This plan of yours—letting the Flame beat on you until she feels better? It’s going to hurt. More than you can imagine."

"I figured."

"No. I don’t think you understand." Seraph leaned forward. "She’s rage incarnate. She won’t hold back. She’ll break every bone in your body. Burn you from inside out. Make you wish angels could die."

Grace’s throat went dry.

"But it might work?"

"Maybe. If you can last long enough. If you don’t go insane from pain first." Seraph stood, joints popping. "We start at dawn. And Grace? Say goodbye to sleeping. You’re going to need every second we can squeeze out of this week."

Everyone stared at Grace. Waiting for her to back out. To say this was too crazy even for her.

She thought about the Flame. About that pure, focused fury. About how much this was going to absolutely suck.

About the villagers who’d die if she didn’t try.

"Okay," she said. "Let’s do this."

[Before I end up as just another talking head.]