The God Of Destruction's Academy Life

He clearly knew what he had written on that paper. Random things. Ancient formulas he half remembered from an age so old the world had not yet decided what shape it wanted to be. He knew it was not what the exam had asked for.

So this result made no sense to him.

Even though he had passed, a faint trace of disappointment settled over his face.

Because he knew. This result was not based on his ability. It was based on the fear he inspired in people. They had given him this rank not because he had earned it but because refusing him felt dangerous.

He had not wanted that. He had just wanted to be admitted normally.

"Catherine." His voice was quiet. Disappointed.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I think they have given me unfair treatment. I do not deserve this position."

"And why would that be, my Lord?"

"I have clearly told you that I wrote random things on that exam paper. I do not know modern magical application. I have never tried to learn it. So it is impossible for me to have legitimately earned the highest position on the theoretical exam."

Catherine was quiet for a moment.

"That may be true, my Lord. But have you considered something else?" She paused. "You may not have written modern magical application theory. But you are someone who knows ancient magical formulas. I imagine that is what you wrote."

"...Yes. I wrote ancient formulas. They have similar applications to modern theory, but their fundamentals are entirely different. So I don’t see how they would apply here."

"That is a fair concern," Catherine said. "But consider this. Modern magical application did not appear from nothing. It came from ancient magical theory. Which means what you wrote may not be outdated at all." She looked at him. "It may simply be more advanced than what currently exists."

Something shifted in Necrotize’s expression.

"...You think so?"

"Yes. The knowledge you carry may feel insignificant from where you stand. But to us, it is extraordinarily valuable. I believe the professors recognised that and gave you this result accordingly."

A genuine smile came to Necrotize’s face.

It was a small thing. Quiet. But it was real.

The professors who had been watching from a distance visibly relaxed at the sight of it.

It was the right decision, Eric thought, letting out a breath he had been holding without realising it. Giving him the highest rank was the right decision.

Nicholas watched without expression.

Helen was still thinking about the mountains.

And somewhere near the notice board, the God of Destruction stood smiling at a result he still didn’t fully understand, but somehow, he didn’t mind.

....

Classes were set to begin one week from that day.

Across the empire, newly admitted students began preparing for their new lives at the Academy.

Necrotize was no different.

He retreated to his divine realm the morning after the results were posted and did not leave for several days.

His divine realm was a dark place that stretched across infinity. There were no souls here. No living things. No sound that did not belong to him. The air itself was thick with the energy of destruction — not violent, not raging, simply present, the way gravity is present, the way silence is present.

It saturated everything. The ground. The sky. The space between. Above, the sky burned a deep, endless purple. Stars gleamed across it in countless numbers, cold and ancient, older than the worlds they watched over. They did not flicker. They simply existed, the way everything in this place existed — completely, and without need of anything else. It was a place that reflected its owner perfectly.

It was here that he practiced.

Not to grow stronger. He had no need of that. No enemy he had ever faced had required him to push beyond what he already was, and none ever would.

He practiced to shrink himself.

To pull inward. To compress the weight of what he was into something small enough to exist alongside ordinary people without destroying everything around him by accident. It was, in its own way, one of the most difficult things he had ever attempted. Holding back destruction was not like learning a new skill. It was like trying to keep the ocean in a cup and willing it to stay there.

Catherine sat nearby and watched.

She did not speak unless spoken to. She brought him water he did not need and tea he occasionally drank. She watched him try and fail and try again with the same quiet patience she had always given him — the kind that did not require acknowledgment to exist.

On the third day, she watched him summon a fireball.

It was enormous for a fraction of a second. Then he pulled it back. Condensed it. Pressed it smaller and smaller until it was the size of a closed fist. Then the size of an apple. Then smaller still.

He held it there, breathing steadily, and reached out toward the candle on the ground in front of him.

The flame touched the wick.

The candle lit.

Nothing else burned.

Catherine stared at the small, ordinary flame.

Then she looked at Necrotize.

He was sitting cross-legged on the ground, staring at the candle with an expression she hadn’t seen on him in a very long time.

Quiet pride.

"Ohh." He let out a slow breath. "I think I’ve finally got it."

He sat there for a moment longer, looking at the candle flame.

Then he looked up at the sky of his divine realm — those ancient, unnatural stars — and something in his expression settled.

’From tomorrow, my Academy life starts. As a student.’

He thought it simply. Without ceremony.

But Catherine, watching him from where she sat, saw the small thing underneath it.

He was looking forward to it.

Genuinely, quietly, in a way she had not seen him look forward to anything in a very long time.

She said nothing.

She just reached over and refilled his cup of tea.