The Silent Deity: Saiki Kusuo in Tensura

Long, long before the stars learned to shine…

Before time became a stream and before life had a name…

There was a being.

Born not of light, nor of darkness—

But from the raw essence of Veldanava's first thought.

He was not created to rule.

He was not created to destroy.

He was created… to understand.

His name was Apollyon.

The One Who Saw Through All Things.

The Shadow of Will. The Whisperer of Doubt.

In a realm forgotten by reality, where thoughts floated like stars and silence screamed louder than thunder, Apollyon sat.

Bound not by chains or bars,

But by rejection—cast away by the one who made him.

Eons passed.

Worlds were born.

Nations rose.

True Dragons awakened.

Demon Lords ruled.

And still… Apollyon sat. Watching. Learning. Dissecting.

In his isolated prison, Veldanava had left a viewing plane—an ever-living projection of the Cardinal World. A gift. Or perhaps, a test.

Veldanava had hoped that seeing life—feeling it, even from afar—would change Apollyon.

But it didn't.

If anything, it sharpened his hatred.

Then one day, the light returned.

A doorway of divine gold split through the void. And from it stepped Veldanava—the Supreme One.

Apollyon stood slowly, eyes half-lidded, a slight smirk forming.

"Father," Apollyon said, voice layered with a million whispers and echoes. "Come to bless your failed child?"

Veldanava didn't smile. But he looked calm.

"I have come to ask… if after all this time, you understand now what I sought to show you."

Apollyon chuckled. It was a low, condescending laugh. Not loud. Just sharp enough to cut.

"Understand?" he said, walking slowly in a circle around Veldanava. "I understand everything. More than you wanted. I saw their wars. Their smiles. Their betrayals. Their prayers. Their gods. I watched kings die with gold in their hands and beggars become saints."

"Then surely," Veldanava said, "you see the beauty in it."

Apollyon stopped walking.

"No," he said coldly. "I see a lie. A lie wrapped in sentiment and sold as 'hope'. They only love because they fear being alone. They only build because they fear being forgotten. Everything is driven by fear. Not will. Not light."

"That is only one side," Veldanava replied, not angry but firm. "They learn. They grow. And yes, they fall. But in their imperfection, they find meaning."

"False meaning," Apollyon hissed. "The only reason your world prospered is because you coddled it. You gave them gifts. Divine beings. Balance. You shielded them from true chaos."

A long silence fell between them.

Then Apollyon's smirk returned.

"Let me prove it to you," he said. "Release me. I will not raise a sword. I will not bring an army. I will only whisper. Plant thoughts. Touch hearts. Let me… test their will."

Veldanava studied him. Long and deep. His radiant form flickered, the weight of countless galaxies behind his stare.

"You still see them as weak," Veldanava finally said.

"But very well. I will allow it."

Apollyon blinked, slightly surprised.

"...You will?"

"Yes. I will not stop you from challenging their minds. But there are conditions." Veldanava raised one finger. "You will not appear as a god. You will not manipulate reality. You may only influence. Whisper. Turn their own thoughts against them."

Apollyon grinned. "Perfect."

"But know this," Veldanava added, voice now heavy with divine weight. "The world you think is weak has changed. There are those now… whose hearts burn brighter than stars. Whose faith in one another will shatter your illusions."

Apollyon turned away, already forming into a cloud of shadow and smoke.

His voice echoed like a distant storm:

"Then let their faith face truth. Let their will face me."

The prison shattered.

And from the infinite void, a silent ripple crossed all creation.

Back in the Cardinal World...

The sun rose high over the capital of the Storm Kingdom, casting golden rays across its gleaming towers and vast open markets. Life was vibrant, colorful, and thriving. Merchants from all corners of the world traveled through its gates, eager to do business. From enchanted silks spun by Dryad hands to weapons forged by Dwarf kings, everything passed through the Storm Kingdom now. Trade routes that once flowed through the Eastern Empire now curved around it.

In the royal court of the Eastern Empire, the air was not so bright.

Rudra sat in his grand throne, dressed in his imperial robes of crimson and gold. But there was no warmth in his eyes. His fingers tapped the armrest of his seat, again and again, as the sound echoed across the long hall.

"...So the Storm Kingdom's delegation rejected our trade terms again?" he said, his voice sharp, almost dismissive.

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied a nervous minister, bowing low. "They said our offers were... 'outdated.' And they have already finalized routes with the Dwarven Kingdom, Sarion, and Ruberios."

Rudra stood slowly. His jaw clenched. "Outdated, huh? What do they know of power?" he hissed. "We were the center of the world! We still are!"

Another minister stepped forward. "Respectfully, sire... the Storm Kingdom now controls Falmuth. Their influence stretches beyond borders. They've formed alliances with Sarion, the Elven Domains, and even—" the man hesitated, "—even the Holy Church has accepted their presence."

Rudra's eyes burned. "The Church? After all they've said about demons and monsters?" He laughed bitterly. "Hypocrites."

A new voice interrupted. It was low, calm, and filled with an ever-present fire.

"You can't stop the flow of a river with arrogance, Rudra."

He turned. Velgrynd stood there, arms crossed, her crimson hair tied back. Her gaze was not hostile, but it was firm.

"You've watched this happen with your own eyes," she continued. "You saw Veldora beat Guy Crimson. You heard him humiliate Velzard in battle. And now, you want to challenge that man, with his nation behind him? For what? Your pride?"

Rudra's face twisted with frustration. "You know nothing of what I carry. I built this empire from ashes! I stood above all for centuries!"

"And now someone else does," Velgrynd said coldly. "Accept it."

"Accept it?" Rudra turned to her fully now. "You want me to bow to him? To Veldora? The fool who once rampaged like a mindless beast?"

Velgrynd didn't flinch. "He's not a beast anymore. That man... he's become something far greater. He's wise. Focused. There's something in him now I've never seen before." She narrowed her eyes. "He has purpose."

Rudra stepped closer, tension crackling in the air like a storm ready to break. "And you would betray me for him?"

"I will not betray you," she said, calm but stern. "But I will not follow you into a war you cannot win."

Rudra turned away from her, fury burning in his chest. "So that's it, huh? Even you doubt me."

Velgrynd looked away. "…I don't doubt you, Rudra. I just believe this fight… is not yours to start."

Elsewhere in the Eastern Empire's war room, several generals gathered around a map, whispering.

"The Storm Kingdom has thousands of soldiers… but no one knows their true strength."

"They say there are demons among them. Powerful ones. Even Primordials…"

"They say they have monsters we've never seen before… intelligent ones…"

Back in the throne chamber, Rudra paced in silence. His heart thundered in his chest.

"They took Falmuth… and placed a puppet king after dethroning Edmaris... just like that."

He sat again, burying his face in one hand. "Even Guy warned me to be careful."

He remembered that moment well.

Flashback:

In the Ice Continent, not long ago, Guy Crimson had sipped wine lazily as Rudra stood across from him.

"You're not ready," Guy had said bluntly. "You think this is just politics. You think this is just armies. But you haven't seen what I've seen. That kingdom? It's a storm—quiet on the surface, but deadly underneath."

Rudra had scoffed. "You're saying I should fear Veldora?"

Guy narrowed his eyes. "No. I'm saying you should respect him. Because that Veldora? The one who beat me? That wasn't the rampaging dragon I once knew. That was a King."

"Then what do you expect me to do? Roll over?" Rudra asked.

"No," Guy said with a shrug. "Just don't act like a damn fool."

Back to present:

Rudra clenched his fists.

I am not a fool, he told himself.

But no matter how many times he said it, the truth lingered.

The world had changed.

And he wasn't the center anymore.