The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate

"Uuuhhh!"

The sorrowful wail of Raphael echoed across the chamber.

"I am a messenger of the Light... and yet, to be struck by such a devil of a Warrior...!" Raphael complained.

"Psshhh. Do you want more of it?" Caron asked, cracking his knuckles.

"I-I said I would compensate you, didn't I? Why are you hitting me again? Grand Saintess Seria! Shouldn't you intervene?" Raphael asked.

"That has nothing to do with me," Seria replied coldly. "Don't drag me into this."

The angel who had suddenly descended, Raphael, had arrived with arrogance befitting a heavenly being. But now, she looked no different from a beggar tossed in the dirt. Her once spotless white robes were smeared with dust, and her radiant, holy wings hung bent and limp, as if broken.

Fortunately for her, Caron wasn't the kind of madman to actually snap an angel's wings within an hour of meeting her.

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"Why would the Light choose a creature like you..." Raphael muttered weakly.

"'Creature like you?'" Caron repeated with a raised brow.

"...I mean, why the Light chose you as the Warrior, I cannot fathom—" Raphael continued casually, but was cut off.

"Use honorifics," Caron interrupted.