"This is Asgard."
Thor squinted at the scene in front of him, then nodded solemnly, as if arriving at a perfectly reasonable conclusion.
"If you wish to become my brother's concubines, there is no need to fight." He said magnanimously. "Harmony is preferred."
"Naturally, if there must be competition, you may decide seniority by age."
"..."
The hall fell into a stunned silence.
Angie and Angela stopped fighting at the same time.
…That escalated quickly.
"We~we weren't fighting," Angela said stiffly.
Thor looked between the two women, then raised his goblet toward Garfield with heartfelt admiration.
"Good brother, your charm is truly fearsome. Still, do spare a thought for the women of Asgard as well."
Angela's wings flared. "That's nonsense! I refuse to argue over things that don't even exist!"
Angie, however, seemed to take the remark as a declaration of war. She straightened her back, lifted her chin, and said proudly,
"Then I'll be the elder one. You can be the younger."
"Why?!" Angela snapped instantly. "I don't need you anywhere, thank you!"
Amenadiel, standing off to the side, covered his face with one hand.
In that moment, the eldest son of Silver City felt a deep, spiritual pain.
His calm, intelligent little sister, once the pride of the angels, now appeared to have lost half her intellect, dropping to the level of those unfortunate angels who once nearly starved to death while on a trade mission.
Fran suddenly grabbed Angie's arm.
"Then what about me?" sSe demanded. "What about me?"
The surrounding onlookers… Asgardians, gods, and assorted immortals were completely dumbfounded.
What was happening?
Why were angels and elves arguing over this?
And was Silver City… losing ground?
Angela glanced left, then right, and finally looked pleadingly at Amenadiel, the brother who had brought her here in the first place.
Amenadiel panicked. "I~I'm a male angel!"
That was not what Angela wanted him to explain.
What she wanted was for him to clarify that she had absolutely no intention of competing with two elves over a cat.
Instead, her brother had just declared his gender, as if that helped anything at all.
Angela rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't spark with holy light. Amenadiel, honest and upright as ever, was completely at a loss.
Meanwhile, Garfield rubbed his chin, looking dazed.
I'm just a cat, he thought. Sure, I'm cute, but this is a bit much.
Was he secretly the son of some supreme god? A classic third-rate protagonist with a suspiciously harem-shaped destiny?
…Well, time travel wasn't impossible. Maybe one day he'd roam the universe and find a godly father somewhere, Star-Lord style.
Angie, clearly enjoying the chaos, pressed on.
"Face it." She said sweetly to Angela. "You're impressive in many ways, but elves understand these things better."
She deliberately straightened her already proud figure.
Garfield had a sudden, terrible feeling that tonight was about to spiral completely out of control.
Trying to salvage what little dignity remained, he spoke up quickly.
"Uh… why don't we take this outside and talk? Everyone's staring. You're interrupting people who are drinking and chatting."
The crowd immediately responded.
"It's fine!"
"Don't stop!"
"Keep going!"
"Come on!"
"..." Garfield.
Amenadiel, proving that at least one angel still possessed common sense, cleared his throat.
"Let's discuss this elsewhere."
Before anyone could object, he grabbed Angela by the arm, motioned for Garfield to follow, and headed for the balcony.
This only fueled the spectators' excitement.
Several people tried to follow, only to be stopped cold by Thor, who casually planted himself in their path.
No one challenged him.
Thus, under countless regretful gazes, two elves, two angels, and one extremely confused orange cat exited the banquet hall together.
Outside, the cool air of the balcony offered a brief reprieve.
The five unusual beings took positions around a stone table, an awkward silence settling between them.
Garfield looked left at the elves, then right at the angels. He scratched his itchy backside, sighed, and finally said.
"Alright, everyone. Let's stop making trouble."
He looked at them seriously. "Tell me, what exactly are you looking for?"
Angie and Angela were still visibly annoyed and completely ignored Garfield. Amenadiel, seeing the stalemate, stepped forward and spoke first.
"This visit has two purposes." He said calmly. "First, to congratulate the Third Prince on his safe return. Second…"
He paused, then reached into his coat.
From a pocket that absolutely should not have been able to hold it, he produced a heavy, palm-sized metal figurine shaped like an armored angel.
The figure stood no more than ten centimeters tall, yet its craftsmanship was exquisite. It wore full plate armor, its surface etched with solemn divine sigils.
Massive wings spread from its back, a gaudy but imposing mask covered its face, and a two-handed sword rested in its grip.
Garfield stared at it. For some reason, he felt that the tiny sword was… very sharp.
He pointed at the figurine with one paw.
"What is this?" He asked. "A collectible figure?"
Amenadiel shook his head.
"This is a complete set of archangel-level angel armaments." He explained. "It is a gift from your father."
"He hopes you may use it in the future."
Garfield slowly raised his paw and poked his own face.
"…You see." He said carefully, "I'm a cat."
He gestured at his body. "Do you honestly think a cat can wear this?"
"Ignorant." Angela said coldly, finally breaking her silence. She glanced at Garfield with clear disdain.
"Advanced divine artifacts automatically adjust to the user's size and form."
Before Amenadiel could nod in agreement, Angie leaned in and squinted at the angel figurine.
"It's ugly." She said bluntly. "The patterns are gaudy, and those wings look like chicken feathers. How could it possibly compare to elven craftsmanship?"
Angela didn't explode immediately.
Not because she wasn't angry, but because she couldn't refute it properly.
After all, even she herself wasn't qualified to wear archangel-level armaments. Giving such a treasure to an ignorant orange cat already hurts enough. Now an elf was mocking it.
With nowhere else to vent her frustration, Angela snapped back at Angie.
"Oh? If yours are so beautiful, then give one away." She challenged.
"How about a set of great elf armor?"
Angie smiled. She didn't hesitate for even a second.
"Fran." She said casually, "Take out our gift and show the winged one."
Fran immediately complied, reaching into her pocket and producing a second figurine, nearly the same size as Amenadiel's.
It was also plate armor, but the difference was obvious at a glance.
The light-gold metal surface was smooth and refined, covered in delicate patterns of flowers and intertwining vines.
A longbow rested across the figure's back, an elven longsword hung at its waist, and a deep green cloak flowed naturally behind it.
No wings.
Garfield was certain of that.
Angela lifted her chin proudly. "See? No wings. Can't even fly."
Fran tapped the figurine lightly. The cloak shimmered and transformed into a pair of translucent wings.
Energy flowed through them like light through crystal, pulsing softly.
The entire set radiated a refined brilliance, the kind that made one think of master artisans polishing every curve by hand.
Garfield compared the two figures silently.
One was solemn and imposing. The other was elegant and dazzling.
Both were powerful.
But in terms of visual impact… the elven armor won decisively.
Angela was furious. So furious, she looked like she wanted to bite Angie on the spot.
Angie merely raised her chin higher. "It's just not as good-looking as what we make back home."
Amenadiel watched the scene with a hand on his forehead.
Still too young, he thought helplessly.
Silver City's angel armaments were indeed rare and powerful, but elven creations were famous across the realms for their beauty.
Angels valued function above all, elves pursued harmony, art, and form.
Both were masterworks.
But comparing aesthetics?
That was fighting on enemy ground. Garfield looked back and forth between the two figurines.
Both were treasures of legendary value.
He swallowed.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream