The Greatest Assassin Gets Reincarnated in Tensura

Guy Crimson had never known fear.

Not truly.

But tonight, he had felt it.

He had been crushed under a weight he could not defy, suffocated by a presence beyond comprehension. He had fought, resisted with every fiber of his being—but it had been futile.

He had lost.

His pride—shattered.

His arrogance—humiliated.

His body—broken.

The being before him—this phantom of death, this shadow without a name—was about to end his existence.

Guy could feel it.

This was not a test.

Not a warning.

This was judgment.

His fate had been sealed.

Then—

Arion heard.

A voice.

Not a whisper.

Not a thought.

A presence—vast, divine, beyond mortal, beyond demonic.

It did not speak.

It commanded.

"Do not kill him."

The words stopped everything.

The air itself froze.

Arion, his killing intent unwavering, paused.

His eyes narrowed beneath the illusion that masked his true face.

His voice, cold and sharp as a blade, cut through the silence.

"Who dares interfere?"

A chuckle.

Soft.

Knowing.

A presence that had always been there, but never needed to be noticed.

And then, the answer—

"I am Veldanava."

Silence.

For the first time, Arion was taken aback.

That name.

He had heard it before.

The Creator.

The one who had forged this world from the void.

The one who had breathed life into existence itself.

The one who stood above all.

Arion's fingers twitched. His mind raced, remembering—

When he had been reborn, there had been a presence. A god. A being who had allowed his existence to take form once more.

Had it been this Veldanava?

He had never been sure.

But now—

The possibility unnerved him.

Even so—

He was not one to bow easily.

His voice, though more measured, still carried the same weight as before.

"And why should I listen?"

Then Veldanava said

"He will be useful to this world."

Veldanava's words were spoken simply, but they held the force of absolute truth.

Arion's expression remained unreadable beneath his illusion, but inside, he was calculating.

This world—this fragile, chaotic world—he had taken it upon himself to judge it. To decide who was worthy to exist.

And this demon, this Guy Crimson—

He was reckless. Dangerous. A threat.

But if this was the will of the Creator Himself...

Arion inhaled slowly.

Then, after a pause, his voice came cold, sharp, yet laced with the smallest hint of warning.

"Very well. But hear me, Veldanava."

"If he ever—"

His eyes flickered toward Guy, who was still on the ground, gasping for breath, trembling from a torment he had never known.

"—if he ever disrupts this world, if he seeks conquest, if he slaughters for pleasure, if he becomes a scourge upon this land..."

His presence darkened.

His voice—deadly.

"I will not be merciful."

A brief silence.

Then—

A chuckle.

"You have my thanks, Arion."

The voice of the Creator remained calm. Amused, even.

As if everything had gone exactly as He had foreseen.

Then—

Arion was gone.

Vanished.

No sound.

No trace.

As if he had never existed.

And then, the weight lifted.

The suffocating, unbearable force that had been crushing Guy's soul—

Gone.

He gasped.

His lungs burned as if he had been drowning. His muscles screamed in agony.

His vision swam.

For a moment, he simply laid there, staring at the dark sky, breathing heavily, his body trembling.

Had it been real?

Had he just imagined all of it?

It felt like a nightmare—one that had shattered him.

He clenched his fists.

Weak.

He had been made to feel weak.

He gritted his teeth, his pride roaring within him.

This was unacceptable.

Unforgivable.

Whoever that being had been, whatever power he held—

Guy would surpass it.

He would rise.

He would never kneel again...

Veldanava, the Supreme Creator, the One who saw all, knew all, and orchestrated all, watched with amusement.

The encounter between Arion and Guy Crimson had played out exactly as He had foreseen—yet still, it delighted Him.

There was something fascinating about watching the pieces move, even when He already knew the outcome.

Arion—the shadow assassin, the silent arbiter of judgment. A man who did not believe in fate, yet walked upon its path regardless.

Guy Crimson—the arrogant, prideful Demon Lord, now shaken for the first time.

Veldanava's divine presence rippled through existence, unseen, unfelt by all but those He chose.

His lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Soon... we will meet, Arion."

His golden eyes burned with infinite knowledge, with omniscient amusement.

"And I wonder… what will you do when you learn the truth?"

A soft chuckle.

Then, like a whisper on the wind—He was gone.

In the Eternal City of Nights, where shadows clung to the buildings like living things, Arion stood upon the highest spire, alone.

The city stretched below him, its architecture both ancient and eerie, bathed in a soft, haunting glow. The streets were silent, save for the occasional whisper of the wind.

He did not move.

He did not blink.

Veldanava's words echoed in his mind.

"He will be useful to this world."

"You have my thanks, Arion."

His fingers clenched the edge of his cloak. His sharp, golden eyes stared into the abyss of the night sky, searching for answers he did not yet have.

Why?

Why had the Creator intervened?

Why did He care about Guy Crimson?

Why did He address him, Arion, as if they had a connection deeper than he understood?

The memory of his rebirth surfaced.

A godly presence. A voice.

Had it been Veldanava all along?

Arion's expression remained unreadable, but inside, his mind was restless.

He had judged many. Killed many. And yet—this was different.

His mission had always been absolute.

To eliminate threats before they could corrupt the balance of the world.

But now?

He had been stayed.

By the will of a god.

Arion exhaled, his breath barely visible in the cold night.

"Fate is a cruel thing."

With that, he turned, vanishing into the shadows once more, leaving the night to ponder the mysteries of the cosmos.

Back in the desolate wastelands where the encounter had taken place, Guy finally stirred.

The pressure had vanished, the suffocating presence gone, but the memory of it remained seared into his soul.

He had lost.

The thought made his blood boil.

His pride screamed in agony. His heart pounded with fury, frustration—but also something new.

Excitement.

He had never been made to feel weak. Never been forced to kneel.

Never known what it was like to stand before something he could not even begin to comprehend.

His crimson eyes burned with renewed determination.

"The world is bigger than I thought."

He gritted his teeth.

"There are monsters hiding in the dark..."

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as the fire of ambition roared within him.

"And I better be ready."

His laughter echoed through the barren land—low, dark, filled with a promise.

A vow.

He would never kneel again.

Never be caught off guard.

Never allow fear to touch his soul.

This world—this material world—was where he needed to be.

Here, the strongest lurked in the shadows, unseen, unchallenged.

Here, he would conquer his limits.

Here, he would become more.

A thought crossed his mind.

Two names.

Two beings he had not seen in some time.

Primordial Bleu and Primordial Vert.

They would be his first summons.

If he was to live in this world, to build his own domain, to rise beyond what he was—he would need allies, no subordinates. He had just defeated them and they submitted to him. That will be a good start because they were strong.

With a twist of his fingers, the air crackled.

The summoning began.

"Bleu. Vert. Come forth."

And with that—Guy Crimson's reign in the material world truly began.