I'm actually quite eager to return to this story. I always felt like certain characters in Queen's Blade deserved more love, among them Nyx and Nanael. I mean, it always seemed like Nanael could be hiding depression and sadness behind that rambunctious smile of hers, and if Queen's Blade was less fanservice and more plot/character development, I bet that would have made Nanael a more in-depth and lovable character, instead of the annoying one we got.

Anyway, we finally get to meet Ymir and Cattleya, so at this point, Church has almost encountered the entire cast. I believe the only girls he has yet to meet (not including the two he'll be meeting this chapter) are Aldra, Melpha, and technically Menace, who he met for such a short time in the beginning that it probably shouldn't even count.

Story completion estimation: 47% Maybe. If I want to be generous about it. You know, let's play it safe and say 30%.

Church's arrival at the mountain village of Bosk was not met with the fanfare he felt it deserved. After all, his goal for the past week or so had been to reach this place, so finally getting here felt like an accomplishment in itself. Still, the quaint little village offered no welcome beyond a pleasant view of the mountains that surrounded it, and a lonely windmill that doubled as a grinder for wheat. All of the other buildings in the village were made out of the sturdy spruce trees that populated the mountains, and many of them had red painted doors or rooftops.

There was only a handful of people out and about at the moment, much to Nanael's feigned displeasure. "Where the hell is everybody? How am I supposed to check out the guys if none of them are around, huh?!"

Before Church would have found this comment exhausting, but now he looked beyond it. It was strange really. Now that Hachiel had pointed it out to him, Church couldn't help but look for something deeper in most everything Nanael said. That being the case he was wary of making too many assumptions based on his own observations. While it was fairly obvious that Nanael wasn't really serious about the things she was saying, Church still didn't know enough about her situation to accurately judge her attitude. Even so it was pretty obvious that her exuded personality was more a facade than the truth.

As for Hachiel, she was used to Nanael's antics but nevertheless refused to condone them. "Nanael, do you not know how distasteful it is for an angel to say such things? To consider human men for such things is..."

Hachiel glanced at their one mortal companion, trying to find some way to say what she intended without offending him. "U-unusual..."

Nanael scowled up at her friend as Church pretended he didn't see right through Hachiel's politeness. "Hey the disproportionate ratio of male to female angels is not my fault in the least. Besides, my odds are much better down here..."

While he made no comment on this, Church couldn't help analyzing that further. It was obvious that she didn't hold herself in full confidence. And while he didn't agree with that sentiment, Church could understand why she held it. According to Hachiel, Nanael was the only angel to possess a glaring physical defect. She was literally the only imperfect angel surrounded by nothing but perfect angels. How could she not feel the weight of that reality? And Hachiel had even stated that she was often mocked by her peers. Her entire existence was a continuous reminder of her unfair circumstances.

This would be something Church could seek to address, because he understood better than most what Nanael was going through. No, Church hadn't ever felt inferior to others, but he still knew the struggle of hiding depression under a mask.

Depression was a major pitfall for people in New Eden. In fact, it was estimated that nearly half of the surviving human population on Earth was depressed. And it wasn't hard to see why.

Anyone that visited the edges of the floating metropolis would find a very potent reminder of what the world had become. Past the fabricated blue skies and beautiful scenery of New Eden was the face of the real world, of scorched earth that was all that remained of what once was. It was all too easy to lose yourself in the bloodied skies of the world, of the barren wasteland that was the ground. Even the clean waters of the world had been transformed into sickly green sludge.

And looking at all of that, it was a grim reminder of of the fact that life as you knew it was gone for what may as well have been forever. If the world ever managed to one day recover from the scars of the NOVA catastrophe, it would not be a day anyone alive now would live to see. And that meant all that was left of the world for them was carnage and destruction.

Church had felt the weight of that reality for quite some time immediately after NOVA. There had been so much to lament. He had lost something that could not be replaced, like everyone had. But even more than that, he despaired over his lack of appreciation for life before NOVA. Now that everything was gone, now that there was no beauty to witness in the world, now that it was littered with the corpses of billions, Church had quickly lost himself in depression.

But he had hid it well, and in a fashion no different from Nanael. He had erected a believable facade of contentedness for his friends and his sister, doing his best to avoid concerning them with his well-being.

And in this sense he understood Nanael's struggle. They had different sources of depression, and Nanael hid behind a front to protect herself while Church had done so to protect others. But he knew how tough it was to put on an act all the time. Now that he had moved on from those dismal days of the past, Church felt an inherent need to help others do the same when he could. He did not think it was his place right now, but in time he hoped he could help Nanael lighten her spirits somehow.

For now though, he couldn't offer aid. He did not think his relationship with Nanael was at a deep enough level to speak of her deep seated issues. Besides, for now he needed to focus on achieving his sole purpose for being in Bosk in the first place. He had promised to help Rachel with her plight, and he would not rest until that was done.

"Nanael, would you mind seeing if you can spot a blacksmith from up high? I would really appreciate it."

The cyan haired girl grumbled something about work, but did seem mildly happy that Church had asked her instead of Hachiel. That had been the point of course.

Although, now that he was acutely aware of it, Church couldn't miss the difficulty of Nanael's takeoff, made slight only by the practice she had in doing so throughout her entire life. The disproportionate lift of her mismatched wings obviously made flight troublesome in every aspect.

Still, she made it into the air easily enough, and Nanael was able to get high enough to see all of Bosk without a problem. She scanned the village below, looking for any telltale signs of a smith of sorts, but it wasn't as easy as she had imagined it would be. The majority of the town was constructed with the same materials, so red rooftops and dark wood was everywhere. Moreover, none of the buildings were easily distinguishable from one another.

But despite her other flaws, Nanael could at least boast to absolutely perfect vision. She was still an angel after all, and besides her glaring defect many other aspects of her person were utmost perfection, even though she never really felt like this was true.

After some suitable scanning, Nanael managed to spot a larger building with an open forge, sporting plenty of weaponry on display. She figured that would suffice for what Church needed.

Having accomplished what she had risen for, Nanael wasted no time in returning to the ground, pointing her gloved finger roughly northeast when Church gave her his undivided attention. "I saw one over that way. There's a real big open forge, so it should be pretty hard to miss."

Nodding in gratitude, Church used one of the most effective tricks in the 'endear yourself to others' book, which he was pretty sure he had written several chapters of himself. Most people had no idea how potent earnest thanks could be."Thank you, Nanael. Now, I don't know how long this business is going to take, so if you two want to do something else for awhile..."

The two girls exchanged looks for a moment before Hachiel replied to his suggestion. "We'll let you handle your business, Church. In the meantime, we'll manage to entertain ourselves, appropriately, in Nanael's case."

The blue-haired angel huffed as she crossed her arms across her chest, but said nothing to counter her friend. Church hoped this meant she was agreeing to not cause trouble within Bosk, but figured he could trust Hachiel to keep her in line regardless. Besides, he had her pegged as more of a mischief causing kind of person more so than actual trouble."Well alright then, I'll come find you two when I'm done. It shouldn't be hard all things considered."

This vague comment earned a dubious look from Nanael. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I don't think the village is crawling with beautiful angels or anything, so I imagine you'll stand out pretty easily..."

Hachiel laced her fingers together and giggled, obviously happy to receive Church's praise. Nanael on the other hand simply directed her gaze to the sky, though she blushed nonetheless. With that, Church left the angels to their own devices, though he realized his words to them were actually kind of ironic. Nearly every woman he had met so far was drop dead gorgeous, so while it was true he probably wouldn't find any other angels in Bosk, was it really that unlikely that he'd find some woman that was equally beautiful...?

It didn't take long for Church to spot the building Nanael had mentioned to him, and it was indeed as obvious as she had said. The front of the store was open, allowing him to see a bountiful supply of weapons within, whether they were propped against a wall or stored on a rack. In front of this place were two individuals, the insane contrast between them enough to draw attention in itself.

On the left was a woman of such massive proportions that Church's first thought, much to his own horror, was that of a cow. It was incredibly rude of him, but the woman's breasts were nearly twice as large as her head, and it looked like they may have made up almost half of her body weight. Were it not for that, the tall, dark-haired woman would have been very attractive, though her glasses and ponytail gave off a motherly aura that would spell trouble for anyone looking for a non-committed relationship.

On the right, and on the other end of the spectrum entirely, was a girl barely over Church's waist in height. She had curly locks of carefully maintained golden hair and fierce blue eyes, both of which coupled nicely with her pink outfit, which sported plenty of white frills and a rather cute short skirt. She was a pretty cute kid, and must have barely been over ten, if that...

These two strangers appeared to be locked in a debate of sorts, though Church couldn't imagine what a grown woman and young child could be arguing over so vehemently. He supposed that it could have been the spat of a mother and child, but the difference in appearances was enough to tell that the two of them were probably not related.

It didn't seem like their heated discussion would subside anytime soon, so Church turned back the way he came, deciding that he would come back later, hopefully when things had calmed down. He didn't make it very far however, when a commanding voice called out to him from behind. "Hey! You in the red, get over here! We need you to answer something!"

Church looked over his shoulder, surprised to see that not only was the little girl the one who had addressed him, but was also pointing a massive gauntlet in his direction. "Yes, you! Come on, hurry up!"

With no reason to decline, Church dismounted Snow and proceeded towards the child who didn't really have a child's voice, and the woman with tits bigger than... well, bigger than the assets of anyone else Church had ever seen, for sure.

"Can I help the two of you?"

The motherly looking woman bowed apologetically to him. "I'm very sorry about this, but Ymir is just too stubborn to let this discussion rest..."

Church eyed the short girl standing to his right, finding her name to be fittingly cute. He knew it was Norse, which wasn't something one thought of in a girly light very often, but Ymir was a name he actually would have considered both feminine and attractive.

Said little girl jabbed a finger at him. "I can already tell what you're thinking! I'm not a kid, so treat me with respect!"

Church's face contorted in confusion, wondering what on earth she could have been going on about. "B-but you're like, three feet tall..."

Upon saying this, an expression came over Ymir's face that made it seem as though Church had insulted her very existence. "I'll have you know I'm three foot eleven. Haven't you ever seen a dwarf before?"

For some reason, Church was a little more surprised than he should have been. Having met both elves and angels, one would think that dwarves would not be outside the scope of this world's races either. But for some reason, the idea of a dwarf was more unusual to Church than that of an elf, or even an angel.

Church pointed a finger over to the insanely disproportionate woman to his left. "S-so are you saying that you're actually older than her? E-even though she's...?"

The mentioned woman managed to answer before the dwarf woman could. "In years, she is. In maturity, probably not..."

Ymir glared at the older woman. "Hey, just because you're afraid of losing this doesn't mean you should stoop to petty insults, Cattleya!" She stuck her tongue out upon saying this, which unfortunately contradicted her efforts to be the more mature of the two conversationalists.

Church cocked an eyebrow at the two females, confused by a great many things, among them this situation and their relation to one another. "Losing what, exactly? What are you two fighting over?"

The human woman, Cattleya, gave him a gentle smile that further cemented the motherly feel about her. "Well, I wouldn't call it fighting really... it's just a disagreement."

Ymir on the other hand, appeared to agree with the label of fighting. "Well, Cattleya here thinks her cheap, easily produced weapons are better than mine! That's ridiculous, because unlike her, I spend meticulous time and care on every single weapon I make, and the resources I use for them are of the highest quality! She just refuses to admit who the better craftsman is."

The affronted blacksmith gave Ymir a look, but it seemed more disappointed than anything else. Not surprisingly, it looked like a mother disappointed with her child.

Church on the other hand, wasn't quite sure why he had been dragged into all of this. Ymir had said that he was supposed to answer something, but he didn't think he was qualified to be an arbiter in this situation. "I'm sorry, but what exactly do you want me to do? I'm no weapon connoisseur by any means..."

Ymir flashed him a cheeky smile. "That's actually perfect, so don't worry! Most people who buy weapons aren't all that knowledgeable about them, generally speaking. So you're a pretty accurate representation of the customer base. Of course, I usually get more experienced and dedicated customers myself. I guess they just want higher quality in the weapons they're going to protect themselves with."

The other woman, Cattleya, merely sighed. More than being irritated or upset, she just seemed tired with the whole ordeal. Church got the feeling that Ymir wouldn't let this situation rest until it was resolved, and Cattleya probably knew it too. So Church just figured he might as well go along with things.

"Alright then, what do you want me to do?"

Ymir made an airy motion at the store behind her. "It's simple. You can check out some of her weapons, and then you can compare them against mine. Easy enough, right?"

Church shrugged. As he had said, he knew nothing about medieval weapon quality. But hey, if they wanted his opinion, who was he to refuse? "Alright. Am I just comparing two?"

Cattleya nodded. "For the sake of time and getting this fiasco over with, we'll just let you compare two swords." She then turned to Ymir. "Now, no matter what this young man chooses, we have to accept his verdict, alright?"

Ymir nodded as well, all confidence and smiles. "That's fine with me. No worries or complaints here."

The two women (Though it sounded strange to say that considering Ymir's appearance) gave each other a look before they went in separate directions. Cattleya retreated into her shop, while Ymir moved off to a cart at the side of the shop Church hadn't noticed before. It had a tarp over it, but it was pretty obvious that there were many pointy objects hidden under the cloth.

Church shifted his gaze back and forth between the two females, watching as they both procured whichever blade they wanted Church to inspect to settle this argument. It didn't take them too terribly long: chances were that they didn't need to pick the best weapons they owned, since Church wouldn't have known the difference anyway.

Eventually, both Ymir and Cattleya returned with what seemed to be one-handed short swords for inspection. Cattleya's seemed to be made of steel or some other common iron, while Ymir's sword was colored red and gold, making it seem much more fancy and alluring. Of course, that could mean that the material used was less than ideal for weaponry... the blade itself could just be pretty, and not all that useful. Looks weren't the right thing to judge by.

Cattleya handed her blade to Church first. He grabbed it by the handle carefully, then stepped back and gave it a few amateurish swings. There was nothing he could really tell about the thing. It felt like a normal sword, unremarkable yet efficient in its use. There wasn't much he could say other than the fact that it was a solid weapon.

He handed it back to Cattleya, and then accepted Ymir's proffered blade. The moment he held the weapon in his hand, Church realized that this sword was quite a bit different from the previous one. It felt more... intimate, in a way. Like it was more of an extension of his own arm, rather than a tool in his hand. Maybe this was because it was quite a bit lighter, or because the hilt felt more comfortable in his hand. Swinging the thing also yielded less wind resistance, or at least it felt like it to Church.

It was obvious that this sword was of better make than the one Cattleya had given him, but from the look on that woman's face, Church felt that it might have been purposeful. While Ymir had agreed to accept whatever verdict Church gave, it was pretty likely that the diminutive blond would have taken it poorly regardless had she lost. Based on the rather pleased look Cattleya was giving him, Church wouldn't be surprised if she had handed him a rather bland and normal sword just to make sure Ymir would win, and avoid any unnecessary fallout. How cunning, for such a gentle looking woman.

Church held Ymir's sword out in front of him. "I prefer this one."

As expected, Ymir burst into joyous laughter. "See? I told you it would be obvious who was better! This guy knows what's what, that's for sure!"

Church handed the red and gold sword back to its creator, noting that Cattleya's smile hadn't dropped at all. Yep, she had definitely let Ymir win without a fight: someone was clearly more mature in this situation. As Ymir moved to return her weapon to the cart she had gotten it from, Church decided to verify this, leaning closer to Cattleya so his voice wouldn't be overheard.

"You didn't put up much of a fight, did you ma'am?"

She lowered her voice to a whisper as well, though it was still noticeably satisfied. "Some things just aren't worth fighting over sir. I'd rather let her have her moment."

Church nodded, deciding that he could raise his voice back to normal the moment he turned the conversation to other matters. "So, is one of you the town blacksmith?"

Cattleya gave a nod of confirmation. "I'm Bosk's blacksmith: Ymir is from the Iron Mountain. She drops by every once in awhile."

The visitor to her town couldn't hold back a smile at the thought of it. "I imagine that's quite troublesome for you."

"Oh, it's not so bad. Ymir is stubborn and loud, but she's not a bad person by any means. Just a fierce competitor is all."

By this time, Ymir had made it back to the two of them. "Stubborn and loud huh? Well, at least I've got spirit. You didn't even give this guy a sword worth judging,"

Though Church was, Cattleya did not seem surprised that Ymir had figured it out already. Then again, if she had an eye for weaponry, being a blacksmith and all, perhaps Church should have expected the dwarven woman to figure it out. Either way, neither of them said anything to confirm Ymir's suspicions, but that in itself was enough.

"Yep, as I thought... geez, where's the fun in a competition if you aren't going to give your best Cattleya? You could have at least tried."

Cattleya allowed herself a cheery smile, though her playful words were a bit too scathing to synchronize with it. "Well, I did want to give you a fair chance Ymir..."

The accosted blond narrowed her crystal blue eyes at the older woman, but didn't fall for her lighthearted jab. Instead, she turned to face Church. "Sorry about dragging you into all of this. Is there anything we can actually help you with?"

"Well actually yes. I came here looking for a blacksmith to fill an order for a friend of mine. It's not actually for weapons though..."

Ymir shrugged, likely dropping the issue from her shoulders. "In that case you'll probably want to let Cattleya handle it. I only make weapons."

Taking that as her cue, Cattleya took up her role. "And what exactly do you need for your friend, Mr...?"

"Church. And I actually need something delivered, rather than made. Do you remember an order for some wagon spokes a while ago?"

Contrary to all of her grandstanding, Nanael was not in fact touring Bosk in search of men. She was actually just reclining on the thick branch of a tree on the outskirts of the village, her armored legs dangling off either side. Not that there wasn't some appeal to the idea of a harem of lesser mortals.

After all, for someone like her a harem held real merit for her. She may not have been a perfect angel, but mortal men probably wouldn't know the difference. She would be worshiped because of her status as a higher being, in hopes of somehow earning her favor and her boon. For someone like Nanael, who had never been anything to anyone other than the target of all their mockery, having people worship her held a great deal of appeal to it.

And yet she didn't really care for it now. She was too busy dwelling on the other idea Church had put forward earlier. The idea of being so special to one person that they wouldn't be willing to share you with anyone else. It was different from the idea of a harem because the person in question would know her for who she was, and not for what she was.

To be special to one person meant they would know the girl behind the holy guise of being an angel. Someone who just knew her as Nanael, not caring for her status as an angel for better or worse. Church seemed to be that kind of person. Despite her brief experience with him, Nanael could tell he didn't really care. He didn't treat her or Hachiel any differently than normal people, not because he didn't care, but because he knew who they were as people didn't change regardless of their existence as angels.

Some part of Nanael's holy upbringing demanded that she be indignant over the lack of respect for her status, but she found that she rather liked it. After all, her major imperfection was only as an angel. Compared to other angels she was a flawed, broken piece of garbage. But if someone didn't care to identify her solely as an angel, then that imperfection didn't really matter did it? To Church her flaw wasn't something that defined her because being an angel wasn't all that defined her. And she liked that a lot.

Still, Nanael wasn't foolish enough to believe that Church didn't judge her at all for her physical faults. She knew his type: a good person who truly wanted to be kind and considerate, but still couldn't help criticizing someone internally. Church was considerate and friendly with her, but Nanael knew that he thought about her handicap every time he looked at her. Every time he saw her next to Hachiel's flawless form, he would think about how unfortunate her condition was. He would feel pity for her, and Nanael hated that. To feel pity for someone else, you had to believe that they were worse off than you were, and therefore not on equal ground. This wasn't necessarily his fault though. It was just how people were. There was no such thing as not judging others.

Even Hachiel had become Nanael's friend due to initial pity. She had felt bad for her, seeing how the other angels treated her, and that had spurred her friendship. Even if their relationship was deeper than that now, it didn't change how it had started, and Nanael hated it. In fact, to some extent she hated Hachiel. The pinkette was the standard to which Nanael was always compared. Even mortals could tell which of them was better when side by side. Hachiel's perfection in both the physical and personality only served to make Nanael's shortcomings even more obvious. And Nanael hated her for it.

But more than that, she hated herself for hating her. Despite the less than noble origin of their friendship, Hachiel was still her real friend. She stuck by her all the time, even though Nanael messed up so often. It wasn't right to hate her for anything, but Nanael still did.

But she couldn't help it. Her own best friend was a constant reminder of the difference between them. Hachiel was a perfect angel, just like the angels that treated Nanael like trash. Even if she wasn't like them, in a way she still was. And Nanael couldn't find it in her to forgive Hachiel for that, which made her feel as awful as everyone claimed she was.

Not that she ever felt otherwise. Nanael had been convinced of her worthlessness a long time ago. She didn't think she was any better than her fellow angels told her she was. There was plenty of evidence to support her lack of quality after all. Aside from her irrefutable existence as the only defect of heaven's hosts, the fact that she was less capable than other angels wasn't lost on her at all. She couldn't fly as well, she was far from the smartest or the most capable, and she had a terrible track record of messing up assignments even when she gave it her all.

So all things considered, she knew where she stood in life. And that knowledge had given rise to dark thoughts more than once. Nanael had briefly considered the escape of suicide, but there were many reasons it wasn't viable.

First of all, Nanael wasn't sure if an angel could even inflict a lethal wound on themselves. Divine protection kept them safe from most all physical injury. Even if she were so brazen as to try and fall from the heights of the clouds or just outright impale herself with a blade, Nanael wasn't sure if it would even work.

Moreover, she had no doubt that the furthest circles of hell awaited angels who dared to commit a sin so heinous. And being a heavenly being herself, Nanael knew better than most anyone what kind of agony and torture awaited anyone condemned to the lake of fire. And Nanael saw no point in that. Why bother escaping from one life of misery only to enter an eternity of the worst agony? That math didn't add up at all.

And so Nanael would simply continue on as she always had: she would pretend the words of her fellow angels hadn't torn her heart in twain over the many years they had bombarded her, and she would pretend she was happy, arrogant, and proud. The opposite of everything she knew herself to be.

Though finding a merchant willing to take Rachel's order to her would supposedly take a few hours, leaving Church with plenty of time to spend around Bosk, he found himself at the smithy all the same, talking with Ymir about this, that, and the other. She was certainly a rowdy one, being so outspoken and loud, but it wasn't really a bad thing. It was actually a refreshing change of pace, to speak to someone who was confident with themselves and more than willing to show it. Of course, one could say that Nanael was like that, but Church knew that her exuded confidence and boasting was more likely a facade than her actual personality. Ymir on the other hand, really was proud of herself, all the way down to the core.

Still, the thought of it reminded Church that he still wanted to convince the angel otherwise. He understood her pain, even if he was now past that stage in his life, and the origin of it had been different. That being the case, he knew he had a duty to help someone that was suffering from something he understood. If he was in a position to aid them yet refused, he considered himself no different from the people that had inflicted those wounds on the victim in the first place.

Still, he was in conversation with Ymir at the moment, and quite an engrossing one at that. She had the aura of a good salesman about her, in the light that she was amiable and fun to talk to.

"So, is there a special material that you use for your weapons? The color of the sword you showed me earlier was pretty unique."

Ymir took on the air of the aforementioned salesman. In fact, it almost seemed as like she was always trying to sell something. Just not in the subversive or slimy way that everyone hated. If anything, Church was certain it was the just the natural tone of her voice that sounded confident in everything to do with herself. "Actually yeah, there's a very special ore combination we dwarves use for our weapons. You can only find the ores you need in the Iron Mountain and the surrounding range. It's a secret though, so of course I can't tell you what kind of materials we use."

Church nodded, fascinated with the talk of weapons, likely because he had decided to get one for himself. His encounter with that assassin when he was with Tomoe and Shizuka was still fresh in his mind. "So Ymir, how much do these weapons of yours cost? I think you mentioned that they were more expensive than regular weapons..."

The mention of buying a weapon put a spark into Ymir's eyes. Suddenly she seemed even friendlier and talkative than before. "Oh, are you interested in buying one for yourself? I guess a traveler like you would need adequate means for protecting yourself... but why settle for adequate when you could have the best?"

Church smiled at her enthusiasm, but had no choice but to douse it. "Well, I am interested in getting a weapon for myself, but I don't actually have any money. So I can't even afford an average weapon, never mind an excellent one."

Ymir cocked an eyebrow at him, a suspicious look on her face. "What kind of merchant has no money at all?"

The target of this rough accusation of sorts shrugged, deciding that there was no reason to hide the truth from Ymir, who so far seemed to be nothing but good intentions and good conversation. Besides, she had seemingly just assumed his profession based on the circumstances in which she'd met him. "Well I'm not actually a merchant. I'm really just a traveler who's doing a favor for someone. She supplied me with the horse, as well as the supplies I needed to get here in one piece."

Ymir nodded in understanding, a little disappointed that Church had no money. "Well, if you really need a weapon, we could always find a different way for you to pay for it. There's a favor or two I could ask of you in exchange for one."

That sounded like a pretty good deal to Church, as long as the favor he was asked to perform proved reasonable. "What kind of favor are we talking about here? I don't know how long I'll stay in Bosk..."

"Well you see, there's an old dwarven mine not that far from here that was abandoned when this human settlement cropped up. I don't know how thoroughly my kinsmen cleaned up before leaving, and it's possible that the mine itself could have been stripped by the humans in the last century, but..."

That statement reminded Church that Ymir was supposedly older than him, though it was still difficult to imagine, "Speaking of which, if you don't mind me asking..."

Ymir met his eyes with a knowing look, though she didn't seem offended by any means. She supposed his curiosity was understandable. "You're about to ask me how old I am, aren't you? Don't you have any manners at all? To ask a woman such a thing..."

A nervous laugh was all Church had to offer to defend himself. "I'm sorry, it's just that I've never actually met a dwarf before... so I was just a little curious about how long you can all live."

"Well, we don't live as long as elves, by no means. Those geezers can live thousands of years, way longer than us. Most dwarves live around seven hundred years max, though that's only if you've lived a really healthy life. Still, the oldest dwarf in historical records lived to be one thousand one hundred and forty-seven, so I guess there's always exceptions. And since I know that you're going to ask, I'm seventy-two. Pretty young by dwarf standards, so don't be getting any rude ideas about me being an old lady: I'm still young and beautiful."

Church nodded, glad that Ymir didn't seem too offended about him asking her age. Still, he was a little stunned to hear that she was over seventy... a human that age would already be wrinkles and weak bones. Ymir on the other hand, was still pretty good-looking. Church had originally thought that she appeared childish, but her life experience and speech patterns had helped offset that feeling of childlike cuteness. Other than the fact that she was undeniably short, she came across as a very charming woman, and definitely a pretty one besides.

"Well I'm not disagreeing. After all, I've never met an old lady that still looks as good as you."

Ymir blushed, unused to receiving such praise, especially from a human. Most other races didn't find dwarves attractive simply because of their height, so being told that she was good-looking by Church, who wasn't all that bad looking himself, was pleasantly unexpected. "W-well, thank you... I guess you aren't half-bad either, for a human... b-but that's entirely beside the point! We're talking business here!"

Church found himself mildly pleased that Ymir was so easily flustered. Something about being able to make a girl blush with such ease made him more than a little happy with himself. "Right, right... so what do you want me to do at this mine? Didn't you say that it had been abandoned?"

"Well yeah, but that's exactly what I need someone to do for me. There could be some ore left over there somewhere, and if there is, I figured I might as well take it back with me to the Iron Mountain. It'd be best to get it now while I'm here."

Church nodded to himself, finding this task simple enough. "So do I just go see if there is some ore left and then come back and tell you, or do you want me to actually bring it out?"

The diminutive blonde shook her head. "I couldn't possibly expect you to bring it out for me. Not only is that a ton of work, but you don't have the proper tools or experience to be mining. Just tell me if you find anything, and I'll be happy to exchange a decent weapon for your effort. And of course, decent by my standards is an excellent weapon, so that's a pretty good deal."

Church mentally agreed with her. Truthfully, an easy reconnaissance mission in exchange for a quality weapon was a sweet deal. "Alright, I'm willing to do this for you. More than happy to help."

He almost got up to leave, eager to ask Nanael if she would like to accompany him since it would be the perfect chance to get her alone and get to know the real her a little better, but Ymir caught him by the arm first. "One more thing: there's no guarantee that the mine hasn't been... 'occupied' since its abandonment. Can you handle yourself if anything dangerous crops up?"

Truth be told Church wasn't actually sure he could, especially if Ymir was talking about bandits or something. But then again, if Nanael did come with him, she could easily handle anything, so he'd just tell Ymir that he could handle it. "Don't worry, I can handle whatever has taken up residence in there, no problem."

The nonplussed dwarf cocked an eyebrow at him. "Even though you don't have a weapon to fight with, huh?"

Church's false confidence fell rather quickly at that. "Well, uh... I-I guess you got me there..."

Sighing, Ymir couldn't help but wonder if she looked more gullible than she really was. "Just as I thought, you really are hopeless. Look, come with me to the wagon real quick. I'm gonna loan you something to defend yourself with. But you don't get to keep this one, alright?"

Church stood from the table the two of them had been sitting at and followed Ymir outside to the wagon she had brought to town. "Thank you Ymir. I guess it would have been a pretty bad idea to go in unarmed..."

Ymir pulled the tarp off of her wagon and peered inside. "No kidding. Thinking you could take someone on without a weapon, geez... alright, look at what I've got with me and pick something you know how to use. And don't scratch it or anything!"

Church decided against mentioning that a quality weapon would not be so easily scratched, instead choosing to peer over the lip of the wagon and examine whatever weapons Ymir had with her. There was a diverse assortment of armaments, though the majority of them were bladed types. Maybe dwarves favored axes and swords? Of course, any good merchant carried more diverse goods than that, so Ymir also had a few other things around, including maces, short spears, and... a crossbow. A very nice looking crossbow, and more importantly, a very usable looking crossbow. Unlike all of these other weapons, this was something Church actually knew how to use.

He grabbed the thing eagerly, surprised to find that it was actually metal through and through. Even the bowstring was some sort of tensile metal. Apparently, dwarves only worked with one material. "Do you mind if I use this Ymir?"

The flaxen-haired dwarf found his choice most unexpected. "Well no, but why a crossbow? Wouldn't you rather have something you can actually block with?"

Church hefted the heavy weapon in his hands, tracing its curves and lines with the eye of a marksman. His proficiency with such a weapon was not equal to his proficiency with firearms, but Church had fired a crossbow before, and he knew that his aim would be good enough. "Don't worry: with this, I can stop almost anything before it even reaches me."

Ymir dug around in her wagon and procured a quiver and several dozen bolts to be fired from Church's weapon. "Oh really? You're sounding awfully confident about that, aren't you?"

The otherworldly sniper nodded, for once completely confident in his ability to defend himself in this world. "You bet I am. And besides, I would think someone like you would appreciate a little self-confidence."

Ymir allowed herself a conceding smile. Most people thought her confidence was little more than arrogance, but she simply liked to think she was bold. "I guess so. Then if you really think you can handle it, I'll show you where the mine is. Do you have a map?"

Church pulled out the map he had swiped while on the way to Bosk and handed it to his dwarven acquaintance. She stood beside him and pointed out Bosk, and then drew an invisible circle with her finger around the mine, which was roughly a mile and half from the village. With the location clarified, Church let Ymir know that he would be back as soon as he was finished, and then went off to find Nanael. If he could convince the angel to come with him, then he could feasibly kill two birds with one stone.

Nanael realized she had accidentally fallen asleep on her tree perch when she was suddenly awakened from said sleep by the approach of footsteps on soft grass. Ironically she wasn't usually a light sleeper, but she attributed the occurrence to her nap being a result of boredom rather than actual fatigue.

Glancing at the approaching sound of another person, Nanael laid eyes on Church, now laden with a crossbow that was strapped to his back along with a quiver of bolts. She found this change curious, but did not care to actually ask about it.

Truth be told Nanael was not overly happy to see the man. His joke back on the road had kind of stung, even if it had raised an interesting notion Nanael had not considered until then. Still, she knew he wasn't an outright bad person, and admittedly one that had caught her interest. He at least seemed willing to treat her separate from her identity as a crippled angel. That was more than she could say about most people she had met in life.

That being the case Nanael wasted no time in plastering on a smile that was at least half faked, if only to keep up appearances. "Hey. You done already?"

Church smiled back at her, but something about his looked almost as fake as Nanael's really was. "Well technically no. But something's come up, and I wanted to ask if you would come along with me.

Nanael cast a wary look at him. She couldn't imagine this being anything good. No one ever sought her out for anything good. "Well it's a good thing you found me so easily then. How did you know I was here anyway?"

The man shrugged, his smile becoming noticeably more genuine as he answered. "I think I said earlier that it wouldn't be hard to find a girl like you around here with how much you stand out."

Nanael managed to keep her face from contorting into a scowl. She knew that Church had not meant it that way, but his mention of standing out only reminded her of just how much she really did, and in all the wrong ways. Well, it was the thought that counted, right? "Alright then, what did you need? Need me to spot something else in town?"

Church shook his head, a little dismayed that Nanael thought he would seek her out for a solely utilitarian purpose. "Actually, one of the blacksmiths asked me for a favor. I was just wondering if you wanted to come along."

She cocked an eyebrow at him, still confused as to why he was here. "Why? What do you need me around for?"

"Well, it's not a matter of necessity. I would just like to spend some more time with you, if you want."

Nanael found herself speechless for a moment, if only because Church's explanation was so unexpected. She would have understood if he needed her for her strength or something, but for him to only want her for company? Wouldn't Hachiel be better for that than her? "Well I... I suppose I don't really have anything better to do... but wouldn't you rather ask Hachiel to come? Or is the reason you're asking me at all because she already said no?"

Church crossed his arms in mock indignation. "Hey, what do you take me for? You're not my last resort: I came to you first. I really want you to come with me."

The handicapped angel didn't know what to think about this development at all. She thought she had figured Church out already, but here was pulling something unexpected on her. She knew he pitied her, but she didn't expect his concern to encompass something like asking her to spend time with him just because he wanted to. It was a pleasant surprise.

Nanael hopped down from her perch to land next to Church. She didn't know why, but she found herself smiling in what wasn't as fake a fashion as usual. "O-OK then, in that case I guess I can tag along, just to make you feel better. Where are we going?"

"Well one of the blacksmiths asked me to go check out an abandoned mine that's not too far from here. And I just figured that it would be the perfect opportunity for the two of us to spend some time together... or uh, y'know, just hang out."

Nanael mentally decided that she liked the 'spending time together' phrase more. It was also funny to see the man next to her get flustered over his own choice of words.

"Geez, you're such a lonely individual Church. Do you always need a girl at your side?"

Recovering from his embarrassment easily enough, Church winked at her. "Only pretty ones."

Nanael couldn't fight back a blush. Even if Church was only making an effort to be nice, he was really good at faking it...

"Well if you were looking for pretty, you probably should have gotten Hachi to tag along..."

Church motioned for Nanael to follow him as he turned to walk away. "Well she is pretty, but c'mon; it's not exactly a contest."

Every word this man uttered just confused Nanael even further. Was he being serious right now, or was he mocking her? Did he really think that between her and Hachiel, she was more beautiful? Even though Hachiel was completely flawless? "Oh, well uh... of course... of course I'm the better choice! Y-you're not as dense as you look..."

He smiled back at her. "Of course not. I know quality company when I see it."

Nanael's smile widened another notch. This man... he was something else alright. She could almost feel like a different person around him. A person that didn't hate herself more than anything. She was too far gone to bury her bitter feelings completely of course, but the distraught angel found that it was just a little easier to forget about her troubles when Church was around. And as they headed for the mine in search of whatever, that was enough to make Nanael smile genuinely, for the first time in a long while.

So this chapter ended up being really long compared to normal, and it surprised me that it was literally all dialogue. I was actually thinking of doing all of Bosk in one chapter, but then it would have been ridiculously long, so I decided not to. Anyway, I'm sure one of you was happy to see Church acquire a crossbow, and hopefully everyone else enjoyed this chapter for other reasons. Until next time.