As Sora and Null stepped into the grand hall of the Seat of Radiance, the air shimmered with an otherworldly light.
Light did not merely illuminate the grand hall—it reigned within it. Stained-glass windows arched high above, scattering prismatic hues across polished marble. Each step Sora and Null took echoed softly beneath vaulted ceilings etched with sacred reliefs. The air shimmered faintly, as though divinity itself breathed through the sanctum.
However, what greeted them was not the austere assembly of officials dedicated to their daily duties, nor the stern visage of a commanding authority. Instead, they found Pope Seraphel seated leisurely on her majestic throne.
Not rigid. Not severe. Not the immovable pillar of ecclesiastical authority the world believed her to be.
A gentle smile graced her lips as she positioned herself more comfortably, completely devoid of the formal posturing befitting her title.
"Ah! There you are!" She practically leapt from her seat, her golden hair cascading like a waterfall as she rushed toward Sora. In an unexpected burst of energy, she enveloped her disciple in an embrace that could only be described as motherly, her demeanor shifting from dignified leader to a concerned guardian in the blink of an eye.
"Sora! My precious diciple! Are you hurt?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with concern as she began to inspect Sora for any signs of injury. She poked and prodded, peering closely at her arms and shoulders, her worry palpable, "Any internal injuries? Spiritual backlash? Residual demonic corrosion? Blink twice if you're suppressing trauma!"
"Uh—Master!" Sora started, half-laughing, half-sighing, as she tried to loosen the embrace. "I'm fine! Really, I promise, I have recovered."
"Fine?" Seraphel pulled back just enough to frown dramatically. "Fine is not good enough! I must ensure you are in flawless condition!"
Seeing her master so animatedly care for her, Sora couldn't help but smile, albeit with a hint of embarrassment.
She was used to this side of Seraphel, but every time, it never ceased to surprise her how quickly the dignified Pope shifted into this playful, protective guardian figure. "No need for that! I swear I feel perfectly healthy. You should sit down and take a breath."
Behind them, Null stood with a lifted brow, watching the spectacle unfold.
'Is this the same Pope who commands armies and makes pivotal decisions for the Sanctum?' His eyebrows shot up in amusement as he watched Seraphel fuss over Sora.
Sora gently eased her master's hands away. "The mission escalated beyond the registered rank. I encountered a greater demon."
As Sora began to explain, Seraphel cut in before she could finish.
"A greater demon," she repeated slowly.
"Yes. The intel division must have updated you on the information before my return. I killed the greater demon but wasn't able to uncover his client."
Sora's tone remained calm, measured—as though recounting a routine errand.
She straightened slightly. "In any case, I adapted and resolved it. I don't want to trouble you. I'm sure you had important matters to see through."
A pause.
Seraphel blinked.
"Important matters?" she echoed slowly. Her expression darkened—not with wrath, but with deeply offended dramatics. "important matters, my radiant foot."
The Pope folded her arms—badly, because indignation required full-body expression. "Do you truly believe I would remain oblivious while my only personal disciple fought a greater demon? I was observing. Closely. Through entirely appropriate divine means."
Null coughed into his fist to hide a grin.
More-like, This sorry excuse of a master was definitely lounging in that high seat of hers—feet crossed—using her so-called appropriate divine means to conjure a live projection of their situation and a running commentary to boot.
Front-row viewing.
Cheering in the background while Sora was fighting for her life against a greater demon.
Isn't that right…? "Fantasy Omniscience-san?"
[Indeed]
"I could not interfere," Seraphel continued, lifting her chin with exaggerated dignity. "Because I trusted you. Faith is a virtue I practice as diligently as I preach. Had I intervened at the first flicker of danger, what lesson would that teach you?"
Sora blinked. "So… you were watching the entire time?"
"Of course! How could I not want a front row seat to my beloved disciple's great deeds?" The elven Pope fluttered her eyelashes, delightfully unapologetic. "You were fabulous—so fierce and determined! And did I mention adorable, despite being on the battlefield?"
Sora's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she attempted to withhold a smile. "How is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"It's the thought that counts!" Seraphel winked.
Then her gaze shifted to Null.
"And you, boy—I'm impressed. First life-threatening combat, and you didn't run away to save yourself."
Null chuckled humbly, unable to hide his amusement. "Seems I'm just part of the supporting cast in your grand narrative, your holiness."
"Oh, darling, every good cast needs a reliable actor!" Seraphel laughed, light-heartedly tossing her golden hair over her shoulder. "And who better than you? Look at how well you two work together."
Sora bit her lip, the tension in her wanted to dissipate into laughter, but she quickly composed herself, nudging her master playfully. "You're awful, you know that?"
"Aren't you glad to know I care?" Seraphel replied, her voice filled with warmth and mischief. "You're just fortunate you didn't get hurt, else I might have led a grand expedition to rescue you! Just imagine the outrage of the elder council—"
"I think you'll find that I can manage on my own!" Sora interrupted, trying to curb the Pope's spiraling enthusiasm. She smiled softly, though, knowing what her master's intentions stemmed from.
Seraphel's eyes sparkled with affection. "of course i had faith in you. You're my one and only personal disciple after all!"
As they shared a few light-hearted moments, the atmosphere was laced with a genuine sense of warmth, serving as a reminder of the bond they shared. After all, in this sanctuary of light, even the most dignified beings possessed something undeniably human—care wrapped in laughter, an unyielding affection embedded in their every word.
Pope Seraphel's gaze drifted thoughtfully between Sora and Null.
It was subtle.
Not the obvious kind of closeness forged in shared training or battlefield coordination. She had witnessed those dynamics countless times. What stood before her now was quieter—more fragile.
More dangerous.
Sora stood a fraction closer to Null than necessity required. Not touching. Never touching first. But near enough that their shoulders almost aligned, near enough that awareness hummed between them like a current.
And Null—normally so composed, so cutting in wit—tempered himself around her. His sarcasm dulled at the edges. His glances lingered half a heartbeat too long before he looked away.
Seraphel had not missed the moment earlier—on the battlefield—when Sora collapsed and Null caught her as though the world itself had narrowed to that single point. The way his voice changed when he said her name.
The way she trusted him without hesitation.
Now, here in the sanctified light of the hall, those aftereffects had not faded.
Sora's embarrassment at Seraphel's fussing had shifted—blending into something softer whenever Null spoke. Her cheeks warmed too quickly. Her posture straightened unconsciously when he looked at her, as if she wished to appear steadier in his eyes.
And when their gazes met—
There it was.
That lingering pause.
A memory shared that required no words.
Seraphel clasped her hands together slowly, a knowing smile curving her lips.
How delightful.
She clasped her hands together, unable to resist the temptation to stir things up a bit. "You know, it's quite heartwarming to see such closeness between you two," she chimed, her tone deceptively innocent. "I daresay there's more than just a simple partnership at play."
Sora's eyes widened slightly, shifting her gaze toward the ground as her cheeks pinkened once more. "Master, that's—"
"Oh, don't be bashful!" Seraphel proclaimed playfully, twirling a lock of her hair. "Look at how you two light up in each other's presence. It's positively delightful! And might I add, very romantic."
Silence settled for a beat too long.