After their brief chat with the pontiff seraphel, Sora and null excused themselves as they went towards the mission hall.
The Mission Hall soon came into view—less radiant than the Seat of Radiance, more grounded. Stone counters. Notice boards layered with parchment. The steady hum of clerks recording assignments and tallies.
Reality, distilled into paperwork.
Sora approached the counter and presented her insignia along with the mission sigil.
"Requesting completion verification," she said evenly.
The clerk adjusted his spectacles, eyes widening slightly at the classification mark.
"This is the mid-rank suppression request that escalated…?"
"Yes."
"And the greater demon report attached?"
Sora nodded once.
The clerk swallowed and quickly signaled for a supervisor. There were murmurs. A few discreet glances toward Sora—and then toward Null.
Ink was checked.
Details verified.
A stamped seal struck the parchment with a decisive thud.
Mission Cleared.
A small velvet pouch and a sealed letter of commendation were passed across the counter.
"Reward disbursement confirmed," the supervisor said respectfully. "Additional merit recorded under your name, Saintess Sora."
Sora inclined her head. "Thank you."
Null received his portion more quietly—a smaller pouch, but official nonetheless.
No divine glow.
No applause.
Just the solid weight of coin in his palm.
They stepped back out into the open courtyard beyond the hall.
The late afternoon light painted the stone in amber hues.
For a moment, they simply stood there.
"Well," Null said lightly, slipping the pouch into his coat. "That concludes my debut as a battlefield assistant."
Sora exhaled through her nose. "You did well."
"That almost sounded like praise."
"It was."
He looked faintly amused.
Silence hovered again—less awkward now. Just… uncertain.
"So," he said, "I suppose this is where we—"
"—Where did you two disappear to?"
The voice cut in bright and teasing.
Both of them turned.
A girl about their age strode toward them with effortless familiarity—short orange hair catching the sunlight like a flame. Her grin was already forming before she even reached them.
She stopped a few steps away.
Then looked at them.
Not casually.
Deliberately.
Back and forth.
Once.
Twice.
A slow smirk curved her lips.
"So?" she said. "Where did you go?"
Her eyes gleamed.
"On a date?"
Sora froze.
Null blinked.
"Illiana," Sora said flatly.
Illiana clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward slightly. "What? It's a reasonable question. You vanished together. For days."
"It was not," Sora said immediately—too immediately.
Her ears betrayed her first, turning pink.
"I took Null-san on a mission," she continued quickly. "He needed live combat experience. That's all."
Illiana leaned forward slightly.
"Live combat experience," she repeated slowly.
"Yes."
"With just the two of you?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
Sora's eye twitched.
"That is not relevant."
Illiana's grin widened.
"My, my. Look at you."
Sora frowned. "Look at me how?"
"This," Illiana said, gesturing vaguely at her face. "You're flustered."
"I am not."
"You are."
"Illiana."
"This is the first time," the orange-haired girl continued cheerfully, "I've seen you this flustered over a boy. How could I not misunderstand?"
Sora opened her mouth—
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"That is not what this is," she insisted. "We completed a mission. It escalated. We nearly died. It was serious."
Illiana blinked.
Then her grin softened into something knowingly mischievous.
"Yeah, yeah. Of course it was."
She leaned sideways slightly, peering around Sora to look directly at Null.
"You are very fortunate, Null-kun."
Null stepped slightly to the side so he could see her properly instead of peering at her around Sora's shoulder.
He gave a small, polite nod.
"Hello. Nice to meet you again, Miss Illiana Carlana."
The orange-haired girl blinked.
Then her eyes narrowed playfully.
"Miss?" she repeated. "Why are you so formal? We've already met."
Sora folded her arms, still faintly pink. "He's like that with everyone."
"I am not," Null replied calmly.
"You absolutely are."
A few days ago—
That had been the first time he got acquainted with her.
Illiana accompanied sora during one of her self-proclaimed supervised visits during his supernatural training—something about "moral support," which had turned out to mean commentary.
He remembered noticing her before she introduced herself.
Orange hair catching sunlight. Half-elven features—delicate ears tapering just slightly beneath loose strands. Sharp green eyes that missed nothing.
She had watched in silence at first.
Then, without hesitation, approached mid-break and introduced herself with effortless familiarity. Moreover, she immediately begun asking intrusive questions with a smile so bright it was difficult to classify them as intrusive at all.
Illiana Carlana.
Sora's best friend and fellow classmate at Eden Academy.
Disciple to one of the Sanctum's female elders.
And—if Null had to categorize her objectively—the perfect embodiment of the heroine's bestie archetype.
Bright. Perceptive. Socially fearless.
The one who notices tension before the heroine does.
The one who teases relentlessly but shields quietly.
The emotional catalyst. The instigator of blushes. The bridge between solemn destiny and ordinary youth.
She had offered critique on his stance within minutes of meeting him.
Then followed it with a grin and, "Don't worry, I won't tell Sora you nearly tripped."
She had.
Immediately.
But without malice.
That was her nature.
She had asked him about his homeland with curiosity—but not pity.
And when others whispered about "the unblessed summon," she had loudly reprimanded them and encouraged him not to be discouraged with sincerity.
Yes.
Heroine's best friend.
The type who would absolutely meddle in romance.
Which brought them back to now.
Null regarded her calmly.
"Well, Miss Illiana," he said mildly, "I know I am fortunate to be able to make Saintess Sora care about me."
Sora made a small choking sound.
Null continued, unfazed.
"But I have a feeling that isn't what you meant."
Illiana's grin sharpened.
"Oh? So you do know you're fortunate."
Sora turned crimson. "Null-san!"
Illiana waved her off dramatically. "No, no, let him speak. I'm enjoying this."
Then she pivoted back to him, eyes gleaming.
"What I meant," she said animatedly, "is that do you have any idea how many suitors she's had at the academy?"
Null blinked once. "I do not."
"Many," Illiana declared. "Talented ones. Noble ones. Handsome ones. Pathetic ones."
"Illiana."
"And she rejected every single one. Coldly."
"I was polite."
"You were glacial."
Null glanced at Sora.
Sora folded her arms defensively. "They were distracting."
Illiana groaned. "Listen to her."
She turned back to Null, lowering her voice like a storyteller about to deliver a legend.
"There was this one outdoor training session," she began. "Advanced practical combat exercise. Multiple teams. Professors supervising from afar."
Sora's eye twitched slightly.
Illiana ignored it.
"Somehow," she continued, "a group of cult lunatics infiltrated the perimeter. Real ones. Not academy simulations."
Null's attention sharpened.
"Their objective?"
"Kidnapping students for leverage."
Then, Illiana lifted a finger dramatically. "She one of their primary targets."
She pointed at Sora.
"Saintess status. Public figure. Symbolic leverage. You can imagine."
Sora looked unimpressed. "It was handled."
"Handled?" Illiana sputtered. "You call that 'handled'?"
She faced Null again, fully invested now.
"They cornered her team. Completely. Cut off escape routes. Professors were delayed by barrier interference. It was a mess."
Null's gaze flicked to Sora instinctively.
Sora avoided eye contact.
"And then," Illiana continued, hands moving animatedly, "just when it looked like they were going to succeed in kidnapping her—"
She paused dramatically.
"One of the boys on her team snapped."
Null raised an eyebrow slightly.
Null raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Pressure. Fear. Adrenaline. Whatever it was—he awakened something. His aura surged. His strikes sharpened. He overturned the entire situation."
Illiana's eyes sparkled as she recounted it.
"He fought like a storybook hero. Held them off. Bought enough time for the professors to break through the interference and clean up the rest."
She placed a hand over her heart theatrically.
"Everyone cheered. His teammates. Even other teams. It was the perfect setup."
Null could already sense where this was going.
"And what," he asked carefully, "did Saintess Sora do?"
Illiana swung an arm toward Sora in exasperation.
"She gave him a brief nod and said, 'Thank you.'"
Null blinked.
"That is appropriate," he said.
Illiana stared at him as though he had personally betrayed narrative convention.
"Appropriate?" she repeated.
"Yes," Null replied evenly. "He assisted. She expressed gratitude. That seems natural."
Illiana shook her head vigorously.
"No, no, no. You're missing the point."
She leaned closer.
"A boy heroically and literally saved her from getting kidnapped. Under pressure. In front of everyone."
She clasped her hands dramatically.
"That's springtime. That's destiny. That's the beginning of something."
Sora pinched the bridge of her nose.
"And what did she do?" Illiana continued. "She said 'thank you' and left. Just left."
She turned to Null again, incredulous.
"Can you believe her? A saintess in danger. A heroic boy saving her. It writes itself."
Her voice softened slightly.
"If it were me," she admitted, a faint blush tinting the tips of her half-elven ears, "I would've been over the moon. I'd have showered him with well-deserved appreciation."
Null fell silent.
Internally, he arrived at one quiet conclusion:
This woman seems to have a concerning fetish for being a damsel in distress.
He kept that observation to himself.
Sora finally exhaled sharply.
"Illiana," she said, tired but firm, "I am already accustomed to your social antics."
Illiana crossed her arms.
"But I have to correct you on one thing," Sora continued.
She looked at Null briefly—then back at her friend.
"I was perfectly capable of saving myself at that time. Even without that boy's help."
Illiana blinked.
"The only reason I allowed the situation to escalate was to evaluate my teammates under authentic pressure. The boy in question demonstrated admirable growth. That was the objective."
Illiana stared at Sora for a long second.
Then she deliberately turned away from her.
She looked at Null instead.
"Do you understand now?" she asked.
Null, who had been observing the exchange like someone watching two entirely different weather systems collide, hesitated.
He scratched his cheek lightly.
"…I am unsure which conclusion you are guiding me toward."
Illiana threw her hands up.
"I mean—look at her."
Sora stiffened.
Illiana pointed shamelessly.
"how this cute saintess is reacting to your every word and action like they matter more than anything? Almost like a girl in love paying attention to her crus—"
"ILLIA—"
Before the sentence could finish, Sora lunged forward and clamped her hand firmly over Illiana's mouth.
The sound that came out of Illiana was a muffled protest.
Null blinked.
Sora's composure was gone.
Gone.
Her face was red to the roots of her flowing white hair.
"Illiana," she said through clenched teeth, maintaining the mouth-cover with alarming efficiency, "you will refrain from completing that sentence."
Illiana made an exaggerated attempt to pry her hand off.
"Mmph—!"
Sora pressed harder.
"I mean it."
"You're proving my point!"
"I am doing no such thing!"
"You can't escape from blooming!"
"Stop speaking nonsense!"
"See how you are panicking"
"I am not—!"
"You are!"
Several passing clerks slowed their steps.
Sora noticed.
She froze.
Then immediately stepped back, straightening her posture as if nothing had happened.
Her voice regained its official tone in a single breath.
"…Apologies. A momentary lapse."
Illiana coughed, smoothing her hair with wounded dignity.
"Yes. A lapse. Very subtle."
Null's gaze moved between them.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Sora avoided looking at him entirely now.