Finally, I managed to endure the torture of watching two girls glow with affection beside me and finished the application form. Mistflower was still copying from the sample form—she’d never filled out an official document before. Many details, like her ancestral hometown, were things she didn’t even know herself.

As I handed the form to Featherwing, Anan shot me another sharp glare, clearly blaming me for interrupting her private chat with her senior.

"Senior Featherwing," she pressed, her earlier restraint gone after chatting with Featherwing. "Who *are* these two? Why weren’t they enrolled in the academy before? Isn’t the Angel Heart only a reward for top students who pledge to the Divine Church?" Her voice dripped with skepticism.

"They were trained internally by the Church," Featherwing replied smoothly, not a flicker of unease on her serene face. "Previous Rebirth Angels all came through this path. Though Bishop Farina opened opportunities to academy students this time, exceptions still exist."

"Oh? So you’re Church-trained warriors?" Anan’s tone turned challenging. "Then you must be incredibly strong. But if you never joined the academy before, why enter *now*—especially Imperial Kingdom Academy, the most prestigious one?" *She’s got a point. I can’t argue with that.* Thankfully, Featherwing stepped in again.

"They’ve trained exclusively within the Church," she explained calmly. "They lack basic social skills. The academy will help them learn to interact with others."

*Bless you, Featherwing—you’re a literal goddess.* But Anan wasn’t satisfied.

"Why Imperial Kingdom Academy, then? Its talent requirements are sky-high. Are they even qualified?"

"Of course they are," Featherwing countered, her voice light but firm. "Don’t forget—even a first-tier Angel meets the Divine Arts Department’s minimum racial requirements." She was clearly gaining the upper hand.

"*Senior!*" Anan whined, her voice suddenly sweet and petulant. "Why do you keep taking their side?"

Featherwing sighed, unwilling to fight with her beloved junior. "Enough. Just say what’s really bothering you."

"Fine!" Anan’s voice trembled. "I’m the daughter of an archbishop—I’m practically Church staff too! I’m the *only* one from my batch admitted to Imperial Kingdom Academy. My talent surpasses everyone else’s. And ever since I met you, Senior, I’ve worked tirelessly to become Chief Student..." *Wow. This girl radiates halos of glory—I can barely look at her.* "...But after all that effort, I only earned the rank of Six Winged Angel. Who *are* they? One gets the same rank as me, and the other..." Her eyes flicked to me. "*She’s* your equal?"

*Ah. So that’s why she’s been hostile from the start. Jealousy. Our existence mocks her hard work.*

"Hmph. I don’t believe raw power alone grants higher-tier Angel Hearts," Anan pressed, suspicion sharpening her words. "Did you pull strings? Are you the Pope’s relative?"

*I nearly spat blood. Girl, your main class in life must’ve been Detective.* Even Featherwing’s perfect smile froze.

"Anan, don’t be absurd," she chided firmly. "Rank isn’t everything. Ten wings or six—what truly matters is strength." Her expression turned serious. Sunlight began radiating from her body.

"Mistflower," she addressed the trembling girl. "You’re also a Ten Winged Angel. Do you think you could defeat me?"

Golden light thickened around Featherwing, forming a blazing halo atop her wings. The air in the room turned heavy, thick as stone.

"N-no way!" Mistflower squeaked, shrinking back. Her ten wings wrapped tightly around her like a shield. "I just became an Angel! How could I ever beat Senior Featherwing?!"

"Exactly." The pressure vanished instantly. Then—blinding light erupted from Featherwing. When it faded, my breath caught.

We no longer stood in the small room. We floated in open sky before a pristine white Divine Temple. A sacred path stretched ahead, flanked by floating marble pillars and statues—none touching the ground. Every surface bore deep sword scars; some statues were shattered. And every intact face carved into stone was Featherwing’s own.

"We never left the room," Featherwing said, hovering before us, wings spread. "I merely overlaid my Domain here. This is a fragment of my dwelling in the Divine Realm."

"Unlike you Rebirth Angels, I was born in the Divine Realm," she continued, her sternness softening into nostalgia. "I began as a third-tier Six Winged Angel, like Anan and Lerfu. Back then, Lord Deseri had many stronger Angels under him—even fourth-tier Eightwinged Angels. But I knew I could grow stronger. During the last Divine War, I slew an Eightwinged Angel myself and absorbed her Angel Heart. After becoming Eightwinged, I mastered manifesting my Domain—a skill no other Church Angel at that rank possessed. Three years ago, I elevated my bloodline to Ten Winged Angel, aiding Lord Deseri’s research. And half a year ago..." A proud smile touched her lips. "I sparred with a Fallen Angel under a Demon Sovereign—a twelve-winged one. He fell in a single strike."

Her expression shifted—no longer stern, no longer gently smiling. Pure, radiant confidence filled her eyes. "Bloodline doesn’t dictate strength. Diligence can overcome any lack of talent. I never believed my power came from my rank. Even if I’d been born a mere two-winged Angel, I’d still stand where I am today. Half a year ago, when I was still double-winged? That twelve-winged Fallen fool wouldn’t have lasted a second against me."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with authority. The temple dissolved. We stood again in the quiet room, all of us silent, haunted by the vision of that radiant warrior.

*Now I understand why even a proud girl like Anan adores Senior Featherwing. She’s my ideal. My goal. I want to become someone like her—powerful, confident, revered.* Featherwing was right: talent and bloodline aren’t everything. *And my starting point is the same as hers now.*

"Anan," Featherwing murmured, gently ruffling the girl’s hair. Her warm, senior-student demeanor had returned, making me wonder which version of her was real. "I’ve seen your efforts. Don’t belittle yourself. Don’t envy others. You *will* surpass them." Her gaze shifted to us. "And that goes for you two as well. If you think becoming Rebirth Angels grants you eternal strength and excuses laziness..." A serene, terrifying smile curved her lips. "...await my *gentle* punishment."

Mistflower and I shivered, vividly imagining our senior advancing with a leather whip and that same gentle smile.

"Yes! I’ll work harder than ever!" we chorused.