Ten days later—
Sora entered the Mission Hall of the Divine Sanctum, her steps measured and familiar against the pale stone floor. The vast chamber was bathed in gentle radiance, sunlight filtering through high arched windows etched with devotional sigils. The air carried the faint scent of parchment, incense, and residual mana—an environment shaped by order, purpose, and quiet vigilance.
Clerics moved between counters with practiced efficiency, their robes whispering softly as they sorted requests and verified seals. Members of the Radiant Guard stood watch near the hall's perimeter, their presence unobtrusive but reassuring. Along the central wall, rows of enchanted boards displayed freshly posted missions, the parchment sheets fluttering lightly as if stirred by an unseen breeze.
Sora was midway toward the mission board when something tugged at her awareness.
A presence.
Not disruptive. Not alarming.
Familiar.
Her gaze shifted instinctively.
Null stood near the outer section of the postings, slightly removed from the main crowd. One hand held a small stack of mission slips, the other absently tapping the edge of the board as his eyes moved from parchment to parchment with quiet concentration.
Compared to ten days ago, his physical appearance had not changed much. His posture was the same, his expression as unreadable as ever.
Yet something about him felt… different.
Subtle, but unmistakable.
A faint pressure clung to his presence now. Not oppressive, not aggressive—just there. His aura carried weight, restrained and steady, like a blade kept in its sheath. Mana no longer absent in him. It circulated, responded, moved when he breathed.
Without thinking twice, she headed toward him.
Null, who appeared to be weighing two mission slips against one another, paused, then sensed her approach. He turned around, eyes lighting up a fraction.
"Hey," he greeted, casual as ever. "Saintess Sora."
The title no longer carried distance between them—more habit than formality now.
She smiled in return and stopped beside him.
"Null-san, what are you doing here?" she asked. "Have you already finished today's training?"
"Well… sort of," he replied calmly.
She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
Sora had visited him nearly every day—to monitor his progress, his condition, and admittedly, his well-being. By now, she knew his schedule intimately. At this hour, he should have been sparring under the watchful eye of Commander Dhomnac of the Radiant Guards.
Hearing her query, null coughed and explained, "Apparently, instructor Dhomnac said i already picked up all the basic weapon arts"
Sora blinked. Once.
"…Already?"
He nodded. "That was his word, not mine."
"And then?" she asked.
"He said I only lack practical experience now. So he told me to come here, pick up a low-risk mission, and test my training in real conditions. If I handle that well, I can advance to the next level."
"I see..." sora muttered absentmindedly, " "Still, mastering every basic weapon art in ten days is… exceptional. Even at Eden Academy, I've never seen anyone with such aptitude for pure weaponship."
"Oh? Eden Academy" Null's eyes shone brightly when he heard that term.
Seeing his unusual reaction, sora became puzzled but nonetheless answered, "You wouldn't know about it, of course. In Elpis, we have numerous institutions for training the younger generation, but Eden Academy stands as humanity's best."
Null's expression remained composed on the surface, but internally—
Pandemonium.
'Fantasy Omniscience-san,' he thought urgently, keeping his face neutral with practiced ease, why am I just now hearing about an academy? Isn't this supposed to be the standard isekai plot? Wake up, train, fight monsters, maybe overthrow a demon lord—where did "humanity's best academy" come from?
A familiar, emotionless presence responded at once.
> [Query acknowledged.]
[Providing contextual clarification.]
> [Eden Academy]
• Classification: Apex Educational Institution
• Affiliation: Utopia-Human Coalition / Divine Accord
• Primary Function: Cultivation of elite combatants, scholars, and thaumaturges
• Notable Graduates: High Saints, Royal Strategists, Ascended Heroes, Mage-Commanders
• Admission Difficulty: Extreme
Null's eye twitched—just once.
Fantasy Omniscience-san, he thought flatly, I did not ask for an evaluation.
A pause.
I asked for confirmation.
The presence in his mind responded with its usual infuriating calm.
> [Correction acknowledged.]
[Providing confirmation.]
> Yes.
[The academy system exists.]
Null stopped walking.
On the outside, he merely adjusted the mission slips in his hand. On the inside—
That's it?
No hesitation? No ambiguity?
You're telling me this world just casually runs a millennium-old academic-industrial cultivation complex and no one thought to mention it?
> [Additional context available.]
You always preface lore bombs with that exact phrase.
> [Proceeding.]
> The academy framework has been operational for approximately 1,037 years.
Initial purpose:
• Standardization of supernatural education
• Reduction of civilian casualty rates
• Prevention of "Hero Singularities" destabilizing geopolitical balance
Null's mental voice went flat.
They built academies… to nerf protagonists?
> [Affirmative.]
Of course they did.
And who, pray tell, introduced this wonderfully sensible, trope-destroying concept?
There was the faintest delay—barely perceptible.
> [Historical attribution located.]
> The concept of formalized academies was introduced by an individual designated:
"Pioneer from the Mortal Plane."
Silence
…You mean to tell me—
> [Yes.]
—is that someone who got isekai'd before me—
> [Correct.]
—instead of speedrunning divinehood or conquering continents—
> [They pursued systemic reform.]
Null felt something deep and profound stir within him.
Respect.
So instead of defeating demon lords or collecting a harem—
> [They founded syllabi.]
They looked at magic and went: "This needs regulation."
> [Yes.]
They saw swords and thought: "Curriculum."
> [Yes.]
They saw divine miracles and said—
> ['Prerequisites required.']
Null exhaled slowly.
Outwardly, he realized Sora was watching him.
Closely.
"…Null-san?" she asked softly. "Are you alright?"
He blinked, refocusing, then gave her a mild, reassuring smile.
"Yeah," he said. "Just… processing."
She tilted her head. "Processing what?"
He hesitated, then decided the truth—a version of it, anyway—would sound insane.
"Let's just say," he replied carefully, "I've just learned this world has far better fantasy elements than I expected."
Sora smiled faintly, amused but still curious. "That's… good, I think?"
"Oh, it absolutely is," Null said.
For everyone except would-be chosen ones.
Inside his mind, he added one final thought.
Fantasy Omniscience-san.
> [Standing by.]
If I ever meet that pioneer…
> [Probability: non-zero.]
Null smirked.
I'm buying them a drink.
....
The moment passed, and Sora's attention drifted to the mission slips still clutched in his hand.
Two parchments.
Both bore the faint blue sigil marking low-risk assignments—the kind often given to novices or guards still finding their footing. Her eyes lingered, scanning the fine print with practiced ease.
A crease formed between her brows.
She read the first.
Subjugation request: residual mana-beasts near the eastern aqueducts.
Her fingers shifted.
The second.
Escort and investigation: missing supply caravan, woodland perimeter.
Her expression tightened almost immediately.
"These aren't exactly harmless," she muttered, more to herself than to him. Then she looked up. "Null-san… you were planning to take one of these alone?"
"Well," he said mildly, "that was the working theory."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the parchment.
"You've only been in this world for a dozen days," she said, concern bleeding through her composure.
"You're still adapting—to mana circulation, to combat instincts, to how missions actually function here. Even if your growth is… unusual, that doesn't erase the risks."
He tilted his head. "You're saying I'm fragile."
"I'm saying you're inexperienced," she corrected immediately. "There's a difference."
"Ah," he nodded solemnly. "One wounds the pride. The other wounds the body. Noted."
She shot him a sharp look. "This isn't funny."
"Disagree," he replied calmly. "If it weren't funny, you wouldn't be standing this close."
She froze—just for a fraction of a second—then realized how near she actually was. Close enough to sense the steady rhythm of his mana. Close enough that stepping back now would feel conspicuous.
"This isn't about humor," she said, though her tone softened at the edges. "You don't even fully understand the terrain yet. Or how missions escalate. Or how often 'low-risk' turns into 'unexpected catastrophe.'"
He hummed thoughtfully. "So what you're saying is…"
She looked up at him.
"…I'm speedrunning rookie mistakes?"
"Yes," she said immediately. Then, catching herself, added more quietly, "…unintentionally"
Null smiled—not smug, not playful. Just quietly amused.
"Well," he said, "in my defense, I do have a Saintess checking in on me daily. That builds a dangerous level of confidence."
Her cheeks warmed. "That's not— I check on you because it's my responsibility."
"Mm," he replied. "And here I thought it was because you missed me too much."
She froze for half a heartbeat.
"…You're teasing me on purpose now."
"Of course," he said easily. "You look less worried when you're flustered."
"That is not true," she protested, then paused. "…Is it?"
He laughed softly.
Sora exhaled, steadying herself, then returned her attention to the mission slips.
"…You shouldn't go alone," she said again, more quietly this time. "Not yet."
Null studied her for a moment. Not the Saintess. Not the symbol.
Just Sora.
"And if I say I'll be careful?" he asked.
She met his gaze, unwavering. "I'll say that being careful doesn't replace having someone watch your back."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward.
It was… gentle.
Then Sora straightened slightly, as if making up her mind.
"…Actually," she said, "I was about to take a mission myself."
He raised a brow. "Oh?"
She reached past him and plucked a parchment from the board behind him, the seal glowing a deeper indigo.
Mid-rank assignment.
Null glanced at it, then back at her. "That doesn't look like something the Divine Sanctum gives out for leisure."
"It isn't," she admitted. "But it's within my capacity. And it's in a region I'm familiar with."
She hesitated—just a little—before continuing.
"…You could come with me."
His eyes sharpened, interest piqued. "You're inviting me?"
"I'm providing supervision," she corrected quickly, though her tone was warm. "It would still count as legitimate practical experience for your training, and I'd be there to intervene if complications arise."
"Ah," he said thoughtfully. "So this is less 'reckless solo debut' and more 'Saintess-approved field training.'"
"…Yes."
A beat.
Then he smiled again—this time warmer.
"Well," he said, "who am I to refuse such attentive mentorship?"
She sighed, but there was relief in it.
He reached out and lightly tapped the mid-rank mission slip in her hand.
"Lead the way, Saintess Sora."
For some reason, her lips curved despite herself.