Sakuramoria

After walking around and looking at different options, Varya was ultimately considering the hammer and the saber, looking at them helplessly. Only the saber was familiar to her among all the choices. Varya could imagine how to hold it, and she had also seen what possibilities it offered in the hands of stronger fighters. It was the only weapon that felt familiar and understandable.
The hammer is Dante's weapon. It must be powerful. It feels good in the hand. If you strike with it, it will be devastating. But... can you defend yourself with it?

It doesn't matter... Sir Duncan, what does he want from them? Varya felt overwhelmed. People always seemed to want something unclear from her. Constantly. But what did she want?
What, exactly?
Right now?
To stand on the battlefield like this, and for enemies to fall to their knees at the mere sight of her. And for friends to thank the gods that they are standing behind the girl, and not in front of her. And then she would gracefully swing her weapon, huge and gleaming, and all opponents, no matter how strong they are, would be reduced to nothing but dust, and even Mana would not save them.

Varya, her deep blue eyes sparkling, picks up the scythe, the weapon of Abelia, and walks away from the armory.