While Helix received his blessing, thousands of miles away, near the border of Hymn, capital of the Israfel family, another future student was busy stealing bread.
A woman sat on a warm steel bench beneath the brightening sky, panting like a beast. Despite being drenched in sweat, a bright smile lay on the woman’s face.
It was like a goddess had graced the world with her radiance. Anyone who saw the smiling face of the woman instinctively wished to prostrate beneath her.
Today’s a good haul. It’s certainly going to be harder in the academy.
Grace Wisdom stared at the half-eaten piece of bread in her hand, the first thing she had stolen in a long time. Busy with preparation for the academy’s entrance exam, she hadn’t gone out much.
She would have loved to devour her bounty, but unfortunately the person she had...borrowed from seemed to have different ideas.
"Thief! Give me back my bread!"
A middle-aged man swung at her with a dirt-stained stick. The blow whistled as it descended upon Grace with the threat of a beating.
With unhurried movements, she threw herself from the bench, hit the ground, and rolled to her feet.
Smiling at the man, she took a satisfied bite of the bread.
"You—"
His face went through an astonishing transformation. From peach to red before finally settling on purple.
Wow. That was cool.
The stick clanged harmlessly against the bench, the sound of metal being hammered ringing through the alleyway.
Absorbing the rebound, the man whipped around, swinging his stick like a great sword.
Grace stepped inside his guard—close enough that the stick was useless—then slapped his ass.
The man’s mind went blank. All of a sudden, bringing the thieving woman to justice wasn’t what he wanted. Neither was it his stolen bread.
What he wanted now was revenge. He would kill the damn blonde.
The man screamed and charged, plumes of steam rising from his head.
Oh. He’s fast for his age.
She stepped aside from the man’s first tackle, then turned around and ran. She weaved through the city with joy, waving at citizens she had known for years.
They all smiled back at her. By now, most had grown accustomed to her beauty, but were still taken aback.
While weaving through the traffic, Grace found a similar face, and a natural smile bloomed on her face. Her golden eyes shimmered with mischief.
"Old man Mort, still alive. How are you doing?"
A balding man in his mid-fifties turned around to see a golden-haired woman stop beside him, panting slightly.
Immediately, a single thought made its way into his mind.
Mort sighed and spoke in an exasperated tone. "Who did you steal from today, Grace? And what?"
"No need to worry about that." Grace cocked her head, recalling the joyous occasion of snatching bread from a man who had just bought it. "At least I hope. He did seem a bit mad, but it’s all good."
She gave Mort a thumbs-up.
The old man stared at the woman he had come to know over the past three years through a series of unfortunate encounters.
He really wanted to condemn her for stealing from others, but that smile.
In the end, Mort just patted her head.
"You best get going then. Aron is about to catch up."
As if by fate, the next instant, a loud scream tore through the loving atmosphere. Aron had arrived.
"Give me back my bread!"
"Seems like you were right. See you later, old man Mort."
With a wave, Grace departed. She went along her original path. Even though she was blitzing forward, her mind was still replaying the conversation.
Old man Mort had told her he wasn’t blessed, yet he had sensed the man before her, a First Wing Blessed. This led to a single question.
Why is he lying?
Grace shook her head. The old man probably had his own circumstances. She might also have been mistaken.
It wasn’t her business to meddle. As long as their relation continued as is, Grace wouldn’t care.
Rounding a corner, Grace stopped running. Her feet dug into the rocky pavement, dragging to a stop.
In front of her was a wide wall between two buildings. The only way out was the way she had come...and standing there was a fuming middle-aged man.
They both stared at each other.
The man’s blue eyes gazed with hatred into Grace’s own.
She took the last bite of the bread, eating it completely.
The man’s eyes twitched. He raised his stick, as if about to throw it.
Grace smiled.
"We meet again, mister! What a lovely coincidence. Truly, the angels must be looking over us."
The man gritted his teeth and took a step forward. During the chase, he had already figured out that Grace was a blessed, much like his son.
But that wouldn’t stop him from trying to beat the shit out of her.
"Any last words, thief."
Grace raised her hands in surrender.
"... I’ll buy you a new loaf...with butter and grilled meat."
"I don’t want butter, I want my reven—"
"Two loaves."
Aron stopped in his tracks. The words had struck him like a physical blow.
Originally, he had planned to fast for the day and bring the loaf back to his family... but now he could get two, along with butter and meat.
"I-I’ll take it, please."
His pride was nonsensical if it let his family eat.
Grace smiled, fished out a paper from her pockets, and handed it to the man.
"A 100 Ace Points. You can cash them at any bank. Thanks for playing with me today. Treat yourself to something, uncle."
Aron’s mouth was open, his eyes wide. Two loaves could be bought with 20 Ace Points easily, but the young lady had given him five times that.
"This..."
Grace looked over her shoulder and flashed him a smile.
"Like I said, treat yourself and your family."
"What..." Aron hesitated but pushed through his discomfort: "What’s your name?"
"Grace."
Grace skipped away, smiling to herself. Giving a stolen check to a poor family somehow felt like a fair trade.
Life was fun.