A week later, the Dominion was absolutely buzzing.
Angels zipped through the golden hallways, chattering excitedly. The training arenas were filled with brave new recruits. Song echoed from the Sisters of Love chambers.
Everything felt... brighter, sohow.
Not that Grace was experiencing that at the mont. No, Grace was in the rookie wing, lying spread-eagled on the common room floor, legs wrapped around Diana’s waist as the warrior angel pounded into her.
"Fuck, fuck, you feel so good," Diana growled, her light-constructed cock sliding in and out with practiced rhythm. She gripped Grace’s thighs hard enough to bruise.
Grace’s now-huge boobs bounced with each thrust. A century of channeling Love energy had certainly paid off in the chest departnt.
[Being a slut on the common room floor. Classy, Grace. Real classy.]
Diana leaned down, biting Grace’s neck.
"A century of training made you stronger, but your pussy’s still as tight as ever."
"Complaining?" Grace grinned, clenching around Diana’s cock.
"Fuck!" Diana’s rhythm stuttered.
The door clicked open. Petriel stood frozen, coffee mug halfway to her lips. Hot liquid splashed onto the floor.
"Morning, Petriel!" Grace waved casually, not bothering to cover herself. "Diana woke up horny... Again."
"I-I can see that." Petriel’s face turned crimson, but she didn’t look away.
After a century together, walking in on each other fucking had beco about as shocking as finding soone eating breakfast.
The balcony doors burst open as Alia and Zephyr flew in, both yawning. Alia’s eyes widened when she spotted Diana’s ass pumping between Grace’s legs.
"Ooooh, morning entertainnt!" She clapped her hands.
Diana growled.
"Either join in or shut up."
Alia grinned wickedly. She dropped to her knees behind Diana and spread the warrior angel’s ass cheeks.
"AH!" Diana jerked forward as Alia’s tongue found its target.
"Well well, don’t stop on my account," Zephyr smirked, flopping onto the couch to watch.
Diana’s thrusts grew erratic with Alia’s tongue working magic behind her. Grace reached down, rubbing circles over her clit.
"Fuck, I’m gonna—" Diana slamd in deep.
Grace ca with her, back arching off the floor. Divine energy crackled between them, actual sparks of gold flickering in the air.
Diana collapsed forward, her light-cock dissolving.
"I hate all of you."
"Liar." Grace smiled and gently pushed her off. She had to be aware of her own strength, these days. "Now get your heavy ass off ."
Alia pouted.
"No fair! I didn’t get to finish."
"Later," Grace promised, standing up. Her legs wobbled slightly. "Duty calls."
She headed to the bathroom, cleaned up, and dressed in her usual white robes with gold trim. The rookies expected their Saintess to look presentable, after all.
"Where are you headed?" Zephyr asked, nibbling on an apple.
"Rounds." Grace grabbed a slice of bread. "Celestia wants to check on the new recruits."
"Boooring." Alia flopped onto Diana’s lap. "Why not stay and play?"
"Because unlike so people," Grace flicked Alia’s forehead, "I actually have responsibilities."
"Highly overrated responsibilities," Diana grunted, but made no move to push Alia off.
"Responsibilities nonetheless."
Grace left them to their morning shenanigans.
The Dominion hallways were absolutely teeming by the ti Grace ca out to greet them. Angels bowed or waved as she passed. So of the younger ones stared with wide eyes.
[... Even after a century, it still feels weird having actual fangirls.]
She stopped by the training grounds first. Seraph barked orders at new recruits. She’d accumulated quite a few scars over the years now.
"Grace!" Seraph bood. "Perfect timing. Show these weaklings how it’s done."
The recruits turned, faces lighting up.
Grace had naturally beco sothing of a legend. The angel who could kill demons permanently, who’d purified the Pillars, who’d brought Azrael back from exile.
"I’m just passing through, Seraph." Grace winked. "But I suppose I could spare five minutes."
She stepped into the center of the training circle. The recruits backed away, whispering excitedly.
Grace spread her wings to their full span, fifteen feet of pure white feathers. With a thought, her rapier materialized, glowing with divine light.
"Oooh!" The recruits gasped.
"Your enemy," Grace twirled the blade, "won’t give you ti to admire them."
She launched into a demonstration, moving through forms that Diana and Seraph had drilled into her for decades. Her blade was a blur of gold. Her wings shifted for perfect balance. A century of practice evident in every movent.
When she finished, the recruits applauded.
"Okay, okay. That’s enough showing off," Seraph laughed. "Back to basics, you lot!"
Grace continued her rounds, stopping by the Sisters of Compassion. Mara greeted her with a warm hug, those massive breasts squishing against Grace’s own.
"How’s our favorite Saintess?" Mara asked.
"Busy as always." Grace helped a young healer adjust her technique. "How’s the new batch?"
"Promising." Mara lowered her voice. "Though none with your talent."
Grace moved on, checking in with the Sisters of Love, the Earth-Tenders, and even the Ascended Choir. With Azrael’s return, the factions seed more united than they’d been in centuries.
Finally, she reached the highest spire. Celestia’s chambers. The doors stood open, voices drifting from within.
Grace paused outside, listening.
"—can’t just walk back in and expect everything to return to normal." Celestia’s voice was firm but not unkind.
"I don’t expect that." Azrael’s deeper tone responded. "But I can help."
Grace knocked lightly before entering. The two previous most powerful angels in existence turned to her, the current most powerful angel in existence.
Celestia’s rainbow wings spread slightly in greeting.
"Grace. How are the recruits?"
"Overeager and undertrained." Grace grinned. "The usual."
Azrael stood with her arms crossed. Her expression remained guarded, but less so than a week ago.
"Terrorizing them with demonstrations again?" Azrael asked. "It seems like that’s your favorite pasti."
"Just a little motivation." Grace shrugged. "Fear is an excellent teacher."
"You’ve been spending too much ti with Diana." Celestia shook her head.
Grace noticed the tension in the air. Things between Celestia and Azrael remained complicated. A millennium of history, love, betrayal, war, and reconciliation couldn’t be erased in a week.
But they were trying. That counted for sothing.
"I was just telling Azrael about the western border issues," Celestia said. "Demons have been gathering there."
"Need to handle it?" Grace asked.
"No need to send our absolute strongest just yet." Celestia glanced at Azrael. "We’re discussing options."
"Options besides Grace murdering them all," Azrael clarified.
[Right. Celestia still wants to ensure that the angels of the Dominion will be okay, if anything ever happens to .]
"It’s worked so far." Grace raised an eyebrow.
Azrael almost smiled. Almost.
"There might be more sustainable approaches."
"I’ll leave you two to figure it out." Grace bowed slightly. "I promised the new Earth-Tenders a lesson in corruption identification."
As she turned to leave, Celestia called after her.
"Grace? Thank you. For everything."
"Yeah, yeah." Grace waved without looking back. She knew what Celestia ant. For bringing Azrael ho. For healing the Pillars. For being Eternia’s solution.
[Just doing my job, boss lady.]
Outside, a group of young angels approached timidly. Grace recognized them from morning training.
"Saintess Grace?" One stepped forward. "Would you... could you help us with our sword forms? We’ve been practicing but..."
Grace looked at their hopeful faces. Barely decades old, these angels. Innocent. Untested.
She rembered being like them once. Confused. Overwheld. Dying to protect a stranger.
"Show what you’ve got." She manifested her rapier again.
The angels scrambled to form a line. Their wings fluttered nervously. Their swords of light flickered, unstable with their lack of confidence.
Grace adjusted stances. Corrected grips. Demonstrated proper forms.
"Like this," she showed them how to pour divine energy into their blades. Her rapier blazed golden, drawing "oohs" and "aahs."
As the sun reached its zenith, Grace looked around the Dominion. Angels training, healing, flying, loving. Factions working together. The Pillars purified. Azrael ho.
Not perfect. Not peaceful. But better.
Another day in the life of the Saintess. Another day of cleaning up Eternia’s sses.
[Not a bad gig for a turnip farr.]
And, speaking of that...
Grace had a trip she wanted to make before she could call it a day.
---
Flying was second nature to Grace now. She twisted and spiraled in the air for fun, pulling off all sorts of tricks for no one’s eyes but her own, as she made her way back ho.
Her farm was exactly as she’d left it. The other angels didn’t know this, but every now and then, every day or two, Grace would take a mont, fly down, and make sure her animals hadn’t died off.
[Lost a ton during my first month as an angel, unfortunately... But, I’m not losing these fellas! H-Hopefully.]
She walked across her old porch. There were absolutely more cracks on the wood than there had been when she left.
The rocking chair, the one her mom had especially been a fan of, was still there. Grace just barely fit, if she compressed her wings a little.
"Heh... Ho sweet ho, huh?" She ran a hand over the armrest. "Even now... I’m still just a farr at heart."
Smiling to herself, it took Grace a second or two longer than usual to register the cold sensation in the air. The sign of a demon nearby.
Grace’s deanor didn’t change. She felt no fear. She felt no hate either. As she saw a demon stumble across the farm like her presence had lured it in, she simply stood up and chanically spawned her rapier. So of the animals were panicking, of course, at the sight of this rabid creature.
"Don’t worry," Grace smiled back at them. She narrowed her eyes at her opponent. "I’ll handle this."
And with that, she charged forward and ended the demon’s life in one swift strike.
Whether it was a lonely farm or a busy village, if a demon threatened it, they could expect to find the Saintess there.
Grace Lightsinger would handle it.
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