CHAPTER 138: REPORTING BACK

Grace limped through the halls of the Angelic Dominion like she’d been hit by a wagon.

A sex wagon.

Driven by Diana, of course.

At full speed.

[Worth it though,] she smirked like a dumbass. [So worth it.]

Every step sent little jolts through her body. Not pain exactly. More like... aftershocks. Her thighs ached in ways that made her blush just thinking about it. Her back was covered in scratches that definitely weren’t from fighting the Tempest. And she was pretty sure she had bite marks in places bite marks shouldn’t be.

Diana had made good on that rain check.

Multiple times.

In multiple positions.

Grace paused at a marble pillar to catch her breath. A passing angel gave her a weird look.

[Crap. Do I look that bad?]

She tried to straighten up and walk normally. Made it about three steps before giving up. Her legs felt like jelly.

[Okay, come to think of it, no. Diana, you didn’t have to go THAT hard.]

"Grace!" A messenger angel jogged up to her. Level 22, blue letters floating above her head. "Archangel Celestia requests your presence in her chambers."

"Now?" Grace’s voice came out slightly hoarse. She cleared her throat. "Like, right now?"

"Yes, immediately. She said it was urgent."

Grace sighed. Of course it was urgent. No time to recover from saving the world. Or from getting absolutely demolished by Diana on a rooftop under the stars.

[At least I showered first when I got here. That’s... something.]

The walk to Celestia’s chamber took forever. Angels kept stopping to stare as she passed. Some whispered behind their hands. Others just gawked openly like she was some kind of zoo exhibit.

Grace tried to ignore them, but their stares made her skin crawl. Did they know? Could they smell the sex on her somehow?

[Do I have a sign on my back that says ’just got fucked senseless’?]

She twisted around to check. No sign. Just her normal white robes, slightly wrinkled from being thrown on the floor. And the wall. And that one chair that Diana had bent her over when they got back to heaven.

Heat flooded Grace’s cheeks at the memory.

[Geez.]

Two Seraphim Guard angels were having a very intense conversation near a window. They stopped talking when Grace limped past, their eyes tracking her awkward shuffle.

"—heard she took down another Primal—"

"—single-handedly fought the Tide—"

"—Diana looked pretty smug this morning—"

Grace walked faster. Well, tried to. Her body had other ideas.

A group of Love Sisters giggled as she passed. One of them, a blonde with pink wings, stage-whispered to her friends.

"Ooh, is that Grace? Look at her walk. Someone got thoroughly appreciated."

More giggles.

Grace’s face burned.

She was never living this down.

Celestia’s door loomed ahead ominously. Grace knocked, trying to make her voice sound normal.

"I-It’s Grace."

"Enter."

The archangel sat behind her massive desk, rainbow wings folded neatly against her back. Her golden eyes tracked Grace’s entrance with obvious amusement.

"Rough mission?"

"You could say that."

Celestia’s lips twitched like she was trying not to smile.

"Please, sit. You look like you’re about to fall over."

Grace collapsed into the chair with absolutely zero... well, grace. Her name was becoming increasingly ironic. The cushion felt like heaven against her sore everything.

"So." Celestia folded her hands on the desk. "The Tempest situation?"

"Dealt with. Purified. Back to being decisive. which, I realize now doesn’t mean she’s good but... well, at least if she does bad stuff now, we know she means it, hehe." Grace shifted uncomfortably. "The storms should be normal now. No more, uh, random tornadoes or people getting sucked into the clouds."

"Excellent. And this Primal Demon Diana mentioned in her report?"

"Dead. Diana and I were able to take it down."

"Good." Celestia leaned back in her chair. "Very good. Though I’m curious about something."

Grace’s stomach dropped.

"Yeah?"

"Diana’s mission report was... unusually brief. And she kept smiling while writing it. Very un-Diana-like behavior."

Grace’s face went red again.

"Did she?"

"Mhm. She also mentioned you demonstrated remarkable stamina during the mission. Her exact words were ’Grace showed incredible endurance under pressure.’"

Grace held back a sigh.

[I’m going to fucking kill her. Slowly.]

"I mean, fighting the Tempest took a lot out of me—"

"I’m sure it did." Celestia stood, that knowing smile getting wider. "Walk with me? I think some fresh air would do you good."

Grace groaned but hauled herself out of the chair. They left the office together, heading toward the gardens. Every step was a reminder of exactly what Diana had done to her.

"Four Pillars down," Celestia said as they walked past blooming flower beds. "That’s more than I expected when I first assigned you these missions. Back when it was mainly the Root stirring up trouble."

"Thanks?" Grace wasn’t sure if that whole "more than I expected" part was a compliment or not.

"Do you remember your first proper day of training?" Celestia smiled at her. "I’ll admit, I peeked. You could barely hold a sword without dropping it. Kept apologizing for existing."

Grace winced.

"Please don’t remind me. I was pathetic."

"And now look at you. Taking down Primals single-handedly. Purifying beings older than most civilizations." Celestia paused at a crystal fountain. "How does it feel?"

"Honestly?"

"Always."

Grace sat on the fountain’s edge carefully. The cool stone felt amazing against her sore ass.

"Terrifying. Every single time I fight one of these things, I think ’this is it, this is where I die for real.’ But then I don’t. And everyone looks at me like I’m some kind of legendary hero."

"Aren’t you?"

Grace looked away.

Even now, with her Bravery where it was, she had trouble just saying "yeah" to that.

"I’m a turnip farmer who got really fucking lucky."

Celestia sat beside her. This close, Grace could see the weight of thousands of years in her ancient eyes.

"Luck had nothing to do with it. Eternia chose you specifically for a reason."

"Yeah, to clean up her mess."

"Partly, yes." Celestia’s brutal honesty was refreshing. "She made mistakes. Big ones. The Pillars, Azrael... it’s all breaking down. And rather than fix it herself, she created you to handle it."

"Gee, thanks mom."

Celestia laughed.

"Right, in a way, she is your mother. My mother. Which makes me..."

"My really old aunt?"

Celestia laughed again.

"I suppose it does. Though I prefer ’distinguished older relative.’"

They sat in comfortable silence. Water trickled from the fountain. Heavenly birds chirped in the trees overhead.

"Linaria’s dying," Celestia said suddenly.

Grace looked at her.

"What?"

"The mortal realm," Celestia sighed, a more serious expression overtaking her visage. "It’s dying, Grace. Every year, more villages fall to demon attacks. More kingdoms crumble into dust. The demons are winning."

"But I’m killing them—"

"You’re killing some of them. The important ones. But for every Primal you destroy, ten lesser demons eliminate entire societies. Add to that the fact that you can’t be everywhere and..."

Celestia trailed off.

Grace’s stomach dropped like a stone.

"So what’s the point? What’s the point of any of this if I’m not making a difference?"

"I suppose some would argue the point is you’re buying us time. Every demon you permanently kill is one less threat to innocent people. Every Pillar you purify is one less source of corruption spreading through the world."

"Time for what?"

Celestia met her eyes.

"To find a real solution, I guess."

"Any ideas?"

"Not at the moment, no."

Grace slumped against the fountain. Everything ached. Her body from Diana’s thorough attention. Her head from this conversation. Her heart from the weight of responsibility she’d never asked for.

A commotion echoed from the main plaza. Shouting. Lots of shouting. Getting closer.

"THERE SHE IS!"

Grace turned to see a mob of angels rushing toward them like a tidal wave of wings and excitement.

Her fan club had found her.

"Oh fuck."

The mob was at least thirty angels strong. Maybe more. All of them looked absolutely thrilled to see her.

"GRACE! GRACE! TELL US ABOUT THE TEMPEST!"

"DID YOU REALLY FIGHT IN A HURRICANE?"

"IS IT TRUE YOU AND DIANA—"

"NOPE!" Grace shot to her feet so fast her vision went spotty. Her legs protested violently. She ignored them. "Gotta go! Meeting! Very important meeting!"

She took off running. The mob followed like a pack of hungry wolves.

"WE LOVE YOU!"

"SIGN MY SWORD!"

"HAVE MY BABIES!"

"MARRY ME!"

Grace ran faster, her sore muscles screaming in protest. Behind her, Celestia’s laughter rang out clear and bright.

[Traitor!]

She ducked around a corner, nearly bowling over a startled Compassion Sister carrying a tray of healing potions. Grace mumbled an apology and kept running.

The mob stayed right on her heels.

"JUST ONE AUTOGRAPH!"

"I’LL NAME MY FIRSTBORN AFTER YOU!"

"WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?"

Grace’s legs burned. Everything burned. Diana had absolutely wrecked her and now she was running for her life from horny angels who wanted to worship her.

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