Queen's Blade Backstories: Laila and Branwen

Time for more of these! Fans of a certain missing angel will be pleased with the cameo, while Branwen's somehow ties with our current progress in the story.

Enjoy!

Laila

Nanael, the Archangel of Light. There was no one in Heaven who didn’t know that name.

“Hey, Laila! Please massage the base of my wings gentler!”

The one being made to massage the base of her wings was her, the apprentice angel Laila. Laila had recently joined the ranks of Heaven, and for better or for worse, had become a direct subordinate of Nanael’s.

“This time, I’m giving you a special mission.”

Though it was actually a mission the Head Angel had given to Nanael, such a thing didn’t bother her in the least.

“On earth, the Marshland Witch has resurrected, and seems like her influence is expanding. You, go down to earth, and do something.”

Those were quite sketchy instructions. Even if Laila’s mind became blank at times like these, since she gave the impression to have reacted to her words calmly, she was hard to deal with.

“Just, there seems to be a problem with Heaven intervening on the ground much too overly~. I want you to purify it all successfu~lly around there and leave it in perfect condition.”

Instructions that were complicated and unspecific. Although they were typical useless instructions from her superior, Laila’s mind simply went blank, and she only said “Yes” without arguing.

“Well, because I prepared a sacred utensil for you, if you have this and fill it with Holy Milk… eh, uwaaaaa, wait, what are you doiiiing!!”

Laila, who was supposed to be massaging the base of Nanael’s feathers, had plucked out all of her feathers before she realized.

This apprentice half-angel was already giving her best even before departing.

Sure enough, can Laila purify the ground with the sacred utensil?

They won’t know that unless they fight.

Branwen

An evil land filled with death and miasma.

Although this place is simply called the “Marshland”, it’s far too large a land to call it so.

The lord of darkness that governs this land is the Marshland Witch.

The Witch appears on the balcony of the minaret. The demons filling the seats of the arena prostrate themselves all at once. My loathsome master, the Trainer Dogura, is no exception.

“How beautiful you are, great Marshland Witch… I adore you. I dedicate this victory to you.”

The marshland tournament will be held here. It is a vulgar contest where gladiator slaves subjected to torture by their demon trainers fight for the victory at the risk of life and limb.

“Branwen, since you descend from the dragons, I take it you’re the strongest fighter. You won’t be defeated by such scum, will you?”

With Dogura’s nauseating breath hanging in front of my face, I can’t bring myself to even open my mouth.

Instantaneously, a magical wave is sent to a sensitive part of my body. Losing strength in my knees, I can’t help but show an unsightly appearance to the vulgar creature.

That’s the power of Dogura’s handmade training tool. If there’s only one technology the marsh goblins can be proud of, it would be this tool which specializes only in making slaves submit.

“He~y, how many times do I have to say it for you to understand? You aren’t a Dragon Warrior anymore! You belong to me now!”

Beat.

Deep inside my heart, something is wriggling.

Is the dragon inside me trying to awaken?

The rusty doors of the arena open, making a creaking sound.

Now, I’ll stand up and fight.

I can’t afford to die yet.

Sure enough, can Branwen win fighting against this unknown enemy?

They won’t know that unless they fight.