Time lost its meaning.
What remained was rhythm.
Impact. Defense. Retaliation. Survival.
Mor'gan pressed forward like an avalanche given form—his greatsword carving arcs of dark-orange fire through the air with relentless, murderous intent. Each swing carried enough force to cleave buildings in half. Each step cratered the ground beneath him. He did not slow. He did not tire. He did not relent.
And Sora met all of it.
Light flared around her in brilliant waves as she defended not only herself—but the space behind her.
Every strike he delivered was answered by radiant barriers, angled deflections, and precise counters that burned the air white-hot. Her feet slid back across torn earth again and again, boots carving lines into ash as she absorbed the demon's assault with everything she had.
She was no longer trying to overpower him.
She was trying to hold.
To endure.
To protect.
Behind her—
Null remembered his own words.
I'll fight by your side.
He had said it to her before.
He had meant it.
And he would not go back on that now.
Even if his contribution was small.
Even if his life hung by a thread.
Even if all he could do was create the smallest opening.
He refused to stand there like baggage waiting to be killed.
The moment Mor'gan's focus locked entirely onto Sora's radiant defense, Null moved.
He retreated from the immediate battlefield, keeping low as chunks of burning debris and stray shockwaves ripped through the area. He slipped between shattered trunks and fallen stone, placing distance between himself and the epicenter of their clash.
Trees.
Cover.
Angles.
He positioned himself where Sora's body and light would remain between him and Mor'gan most of the time, using the environment as layered protection against any stray attacks that slipped past her guard.
Only then did he reach into his spatial ring.
A bow appeared in his hand.
Solid. Balanced. Practical.
Not decorative.
A soldier's tool.
He drew out a small vial next.
Commander Dhomnac's contingency gift.
"For when you fight something you're not supposed to win against."
Null uncorked it calmly.
One by one, he coated the arrowheads with the thick, dark deadly toxin.
His eyes never left the battle.
He waited.
Measured.
Watched Mor'gan's rhythm.
Drew the string.
Aimed.
Released.
The arrow tore through the air silently.
Mor'gan felt it.
A prickling sensation across his instincts.
His head snapped toward the incoming threat for a fraction of a second.
A flaming barricade erupted from his free hand.
The arrow struck the wall of fire—
And was instantly incinerated to ash.
But—
That fraction of a second was all Sora needed.
Her eyes sharpened.
Light condensed along her blade in a blinding surge.
She stepped in.
A flash of white brilliance cut across Mor'gan's chest.
For the first time since the battle began—
She wounded him.
A shallow gash carved across his torso.
Not deep.
But real.
And most importantly—
It did not regenerate.
Mor'gan staggered half a step back, staring at the glowing wound in disbelief before fury twisted his expression.
He roared and swung his greatsword toward the direction the arrow had come from.
But Sora was already there.
Radiant barriers stacked instantly in his path, forcing his blade to crash against layers of light instead of reaching the trees.
She didn't look back.
But in her heart—
She thanked him.
Null-san…
Behind the cover, Null allowed a faint smirk to tug at his lips.
The poison hadn't mattered.
The damage hadn't mattered.
The distraction had.
He was dividing Mor'gan's attention.
Splitting it.
Forcing the greater demon to fight a battle on two fronts—one of power…
And one of awareness.
And that was enough.
From then on, the battle settled into a brutal pattern.
Mor'gan attacked relentlessly.
Sora defended and countered with precision.
And from the edges of the battlefield—
Null kept firing.
Not to kill.
But to interrupt.
To disrupt.
To steal fractions of seconds.
Again and again.
And each stolen moment became an opportunity for Sora to push back just a little harder than before.
***
Arrows flew.
Light clashed with hellfire.
Steel screamed.
And in the middle of a battlefield that looked like the end of the world—
Null's mind was… strangely calm.
Too calm.
He ducked behind a shattered trunk as a flaming shockwave tore the top half of the forest away.
Drew another arrow.
Coated it.
Waited for timing.
And in that tiny pocket of stillness inside his head—
A familiar, utterly unhelpful voice spoke.
[You know, statistically speaking, this is a very poor life decision]
Null didn't react outwardly.
He had long grown used to the voice.
Fantasy omnisciense- san, Now? it decided to comment?
You waited until now to start commentary?
[I was observing. For research. This is premium material. Greater demon, saintess, emotional bonding, near-death trauma, romantic tension—this is top-tier narrative composition.]
Null loosed the arrow.
Mor'gan deflected it with a snarl.
Sora slashed, forcing the demon back another step.
We're fighting for our lives.
[Yes. And doing it with excellent pacing.]
A blast of heat forced Null to roll to the side as a flaming arc carved through where he had been.
He came up coughing slightly.
Do you ever plan to be useful?
A pause.
[Emotionally, I am invaluable.]
Null deadpanned internally.
[Oh. No.]
Another arrow.
Another distraction.
Another opening for Sora.
[By the way, she cried for you.]
Null's fingers paused for half a second on the bowstring.
I noticed.
[No, you observed. I'm telling you the narrative weight of that moment was enormous. That was a milestone event.]
Null exhaled slowly.
Not the time.
[This is exactly the time. Near-death experiences accelerate emotional development by approximately 63%.]
A tree exploded nearby.
Ash rained down.
Null calmly wiped soot off his cheek.
If you have numbers, you should have predictions.
[I do.]
A beat.
[Prediction: you are absolutely going to say something incredibly stupidly charming after this battle.?
Null frowned.
I don't do that.
[You already did. Twice.]
He fired again.
Mor'gan roared in frustration as Sora's light carved another shallow mark into him.
Focus.
[I am focused. On the important things.]
A pause hung in Null's mind as another shockwave tore bark from the trees around him.
He nocked a fresh arrow.
Drew.
Waited for Mor'gan's shoulder to turn—
Do you have any offensive functions?
A beat.
The bowstring tightened.
If you do, now would be a wonderful time to stop observing and end this charade. I'm getting a little bored of this near-death experience.
[As If...]
[A very deliberate silence followed.]
Then—
[I am a supportive-type supreme cheat code.]
Null released the arrow.
Mor'gan burned it out of the air without looking.
Sora capitalized again.
That wasn't an answer.
[It was. You simply dislike it.]
Another blast of heat forced Null to duck lower behind the splintered trunk.
Ash drifted past his face.
So you can't smite him with cosmic insight?
[.... (Silent)]
Rewrite reality?
(Fantasy Omniscience)
..... (Silent)
Predict a fatal opening?
A pause.
[I can predict many openings.]
Predict a fatal opening?
[Those require you to survive long enough to use them.]
Null clicked his tongue softly.
Useless.
[Emotionally invaluable.]
He let that go.
Another arrow.
Another distraction.
Another flash of white as Sora's blade clipped Mor'gan's guard.
Null's eyes narrowed slightly.
A different thought surfaced.
Is the Pope still watching?
This time the answer came instantly.
Affirmative.
Null's expression didn't change.
But something in his gaze sharpened.
From when?
[From the beginning.]
Another shockwave rolled through the forest.
Splinters rained down.
And she's… not doing anything?
[She does not appear intent on intervening to save her disciple.]
Null was quiet for a second.
Then he exhaled through his nose.
A small, tired sound.
Of course.
He adjusted his footing and peeked from behind cover just enough to track Mor'gan's movement.
Null Muttered Internally
All the illustrious masters in fiction are the same.
[Oh?]
Throw the student into mortal danger. Call it "growth." Call it "trial." Call it "necessary hardship."
He drew the string again.
Calm. Steady.
Never the ones getting burned alive.
A faint note of amusement entered the voice.
[You are remarkably genre-aware for someone currently inside the genre.]
I don't understand why mentors always like watching their students almost die and calling it training.
He released.
Mor'gan's attention flickered for a fraction of a second.
Sora's light struck again.
Another shallow wound.
Another snarl of frustration from the demon.
[To be fair, she likely believes this is the only way for Sora to grow.]
Null watched Sora slide back under the force of another devastating blow, boots carving trenches into the earth as she held the line.
Just then,
A tremor passed through the battlefield.
Not from Mor'gan.
Not from impact.
From Sora.
Null felt it before he saw it.
The air pressure changed.
Mana density spiked so violently that the hairs on his arms stood on end.
Then—
A blinding surge of cyan and white erupted from the center of the clash.
Not an explosion.
An awakening.
Light didn't burst outward.
It unfolded.
Like something long restrained had finally been allowed to breathe.
The entire battlefield was swallowed in brilliance.
Mor'gan's next swing stalled mid-arc as the radiance crashed into him like a tidal wave made of divinity.
Null threw an arm over his eyes as the forest, the ash, the smoke—everything vanished into white.
And inside his mind—
System prompts began appearing one after another in rapid succession.
[Subject Sora's unique abilities utilization limit increased]
[Subject Sora awakened the next phase of her unique abilities]
[Divine Output Threshold exceeded]
[Emergency evolution condition satisfied]
Null blinked.
Even through the light, his eyes widened.
…No way.
Another prompt.
[Growth Trigger: Emotional Catalyst — Confirmed]
His expression went flat.
Then incredulous.
Null:
Wait.
A beat.
Is the fabled plot-breaking enlightenment really happeninggg?!
The light intensified.
Mor'gan roared—not in anger, but in something far rarer.
Alarm.
For the first time since the battle began, the greater demon took an actual step back.
Because the presence standing before him—
Was no longer the Sora he had been overwhelming moments ago.
Her figure hovered slightly above the ground.
Cyan threads of light spiraled around her like living constellations.
Her pure white hair drifted weightlessly in the radiance.
Her eyes—
Glowed.
Not with emotion.
But with something vast.
Original.
Awakened.
The air itself bent around her.
And for the first time—
Mor'gan felt what Sora had been feeling this entire battle.
Pressure.