The Silent Deity: Saiki Kusuo in Tensura

The days in the Storm Kingdom rolled by like gentle clouds. With Saiki's quiet planning and Veldora's new leadership style — sharp, majestic, and commanding like Ainz Ooal Gown himself — things were moving faster than any human or monster had expected.

Villages had become towns, towns blossomed into cities, and the infrastructure of the kingdom was now a gleaming model of order and strength. Roads were paved, buildings rose up, and culture was blooming like spring.

But Saiki, perched as always on his favorite rooftop with his legs crossed and a bowl of coffee jelly in hand, wasn't fully satisfied.

"Tch… something's missing," he mumbled as he took a bite. "We've got an Emperor. We've got soldiers. Spies. A whole council. But…"

He tilted his head.

"What happens when we start dealing with the outside world? Envoys. Letters. Negotiations. Formal dinners…"

He looked down at the streets below. Goblins in uniforms walking upright, ogres training in formation, kaijin crafting tools, wyverns flying in the sky on patrol. It was a kingdom on the rise. But none of them had that spark he needed.

"Sophistication... charm... grace... someone with the ability to silence a room just by walking in."

He rubbed his chin and sighed.

"Yeah, I could just reprogram one of them to be like that... but... too much work."

So, he scanned the entire kingdom again — just to be sure.

Still nothing.

"Yare yare daze... alright. Let's widen the search."

He extended his psychic awareness beyond the forest, beyond the borders of the Cardinal World. His attention drifted to the Ice Continent — and then he saw them. Standing behind the one and only Guy Crimson were his ever-loyal demon maids: Rain and Misery.

"Hmm…" Saiki blinked and zoomed in. "Elegant. Disciplined. Poised. And they are demons. That means... long life spans, strong powers, good memory retention. Not bad."

He floated down from the tower and sat under a tree, shielding his eyes with his hand as he peeked deeper — into Misery's mind.

Inside her thoughts was like walking through a cathedral carved from darkness and fire. He quietly slipped through her memories and absorbed knowledge without leaving a trace.

"Thousands of years old…" he muttered. "Primordial demons. Powerful, loyal, highly structured, and—ah… so they come from the Underworld."

He nodded to himself, sipping jelly mid-telepathy.

"Of course they do. Demons usually have their own realm. Isekai Rule #42: if it looks like a fantasy world, there's always an underworld."

Now curious, Saiki floated his consciousness into the space between dimensions, following the threads from Misery's mind. It took him a few seconds — not because it was hard, but because the Underworld was... loud.

Screaming, cackling, exploding fire, demons ripping each other apart, fireballs, chaos, ash, and pure madness.

"...yep. This is basically a demon episode of Hell's Kitchen."

He hovered quietly above it all, scanning. He was looking for elegance, not chaos.

Then he saw them — the remaining Primordials.

Violet, the wild one, was throwing fireballs at a mountain just to watch it melt.

Jaune, with an explosive laugh, was juggling giant demon heads.

Noir, classy at first glance… but had a creepy aura, like he kept a collection of teacups made from skulls.

And then…

There she was.

Primordial Blanc.

She walked through a crowd of fighting demons like a queen gliding through a palace. Her white hair flowed gently, her steps were light and poised, her eyes cold yet intelligent. She wore a pristine white dress, untouched by the soot around her.

The chaos parted around her like waves. No one dared touch her. No one dared speak unless spoken to. She gave orders with a calm voice and an arched brow, and entire war parties listened. Her aura was elegant but chilling, like winter silk.

Saiki blinked.

"...Jackpot."

He nodded.

"Alright. Primordial Blanc it is."

he leaned back slightly, fingers brushing against his chin. His eyes wandered across the Storm Kingdom skies from the balcony where he stood.

"Now then... how do I even invite a demon who lives in a literal hellscape? Send a fruit basket? A teleporting envelope? Ugh. Too much effort."

He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Never mind. I'll just go."

And whoosh!

In less than a blink, Saiki's figure vanished. He reappeared in the Underworld, and the moment he landed, his face twitched in mild annoyance.

The ground was cracked and steaming, oozing molten lava from the crevices. The air was heavy and thick with the stench of brimstone and blood. Screams echoed from every direction. Demons were flying, leaping, slashing, punching, biting—pure chaos, pure madness.

"Yep," Saiki muttered, eyes half-lidded. "This is basically if a metal concert and a daycare exploded together."

Demons fought without rest. Some exploded into goo. Some reformed mid-air. Others simply roared for no reason.

He waved his hand, and the surrounding noise muted completely for him, like someone turning the volume down.

"Better."

He blinked again, and now he was in front of a massive, gothic-style obsidian castle, with spires that stabbed into the sky like demonic fangs. This was her domain.

Inside the castle, in an elegant throne room veiled in twilight hues and lit by floating demonic flames, Primordial Blanc sat on a crystalline throne, legs crossed, porcelain white skin gleaming against her dark dress. She sipped something steaming from a black goblet—possibly tea, possibly liquified souls. Who knew?

That's when Saiki appeared—right in front of her.

No sound. No presence. No warning.

Blanc's crimson eyes widened. Her cup almost slipped.

"Wha—?!"

She immediately stood, swirling in place, cloak flowing behind her like smoke.

"Who DARES enter my throne uninvited?! You... you have no aura… no magicules… how did you—?!"

Saiki raised a hand lazily.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're Primordial Blanc, ancient, powerful, dignified, etcetera, etcetera. Look, I'm here with a proposal."

"Proposal?!" she scoffed. "You barge into my sanctuary, masked in nothingness, speak like a mortal, and demand an audience? You must be mad."

Saiki's expression didn't change. He gave a long sigh, rubbing his temple.

"I'm really not in the mood to repeat myself or deal with demon ego right now."

Blanc's eyes narrowed. She felt her demonic instincts roar inside her. There was no aura, no energy—yet something in her screamed danger. Still, she was a demon. Pride came first.

"Then let's see how much arrogance you can take before I carve you in half."

She extended her hand, demonic magic spiraling into a massive blood-red lance of fire.

She lunged—but then everything froze.

Blanc stopped mid-motion, suspended in the air like a puppet on pause. Her magic fizzled instantly.

Her eyes moved—wide with disbelief—but her body was completely paralyzed.

"What…? My body… isn't responding…"

She noticed the demon guards nearby, standing just a few feet away. None of them reacted. They hadn't even seen Saiki. They just stood frozen in time, like statues.

"W-what is this sorcery?!"

Saiki tilted his head, still standing casually.

"See? I'm not insane. Just better. You demons love strength, right? Consider this proof. I could've erased this entire castle with a thought, but I'm trying to be polite here."

"Who ARE you?! What have you done to me?!"

"I'm Saiki," he replied, "and I'm here to recruit you."

"Recruit me?" she echoed in her mind. "A lowly human like you?"

"Technically, I'm stronger than anything you've ever met," he said flatly. "Just look around you. You're frozen. I'm speaking freely. Your soldiers don't even know we're having this conversation. Want more proof?"

Saiki snapped his fingers.

POOF.

Primordial Blanc turned into a frog.

A snow-white, wide-eyed frog plopped onto the velvet carpet, her elegant energy gone, replaced by:

"Ribbit?"

The frog's eyes twitched furiously.

"Oh no… Oh nonono this is UNACCEPTABLE!"

Saiki crouched beside her.

"So? Want to keep arguing or should I turn you into a cockroach next?"

He raised a finger, and the frog Blanc instantly reverted back to her original form. She fell to her knees, gasping.

"What… what kind of being… no magicules, no pressure… how is this even possible?!"

Saiki sighed.

"Magicules are so overrated. Now, I need someone to handle diplomacy for the Storm Kingdom. A beautiful, composed, intelligent speaker. You fit the bill. So, do you agree? Or should I bring the frog back?"

Blanc shivered. The memory of being a squishy amphibian crawled all over her pride.

"F-fine! I accept your… ridiculous… proposal. But under one condition—stop turning me into barn animals!"

"Done," Saiki nodded. "Also, from now on, your name is Testarossa."

The moment the name left his lips, an intense wave of light engulfed her. Her body floated, surrounded by brilliant white and crimson energy. She felt her core shifting, her power expanding—a glorious, overwhelming evolution.

When it ended, she dropped gently to the ground. Her form was the same… but refined. Her beauty heightened. Her strength multiplied. Her presence, now majestic.

"This… This is incredible…" she whispered.

She dropped to one knee before him.

"Lord Saiki… From this day forward, I—Testarossa—pledge eternal service to you and your kingdom."

Saiki yawned.

"Yare yare… Demons are always so extra."

Then whoosh! with a simple thought, he and his new diplomat disappeared from the Underworld.

Back in the Storm Kingdom, wind brushed gently through the streets of stone and crystal, monsters chattering, soldiers training, markets bustling.

With a ripple of air, Saiki and Testarossa arrived at the castle gates.

Testarossa blinked, taking it all in—the organized city, the peace, the order, the purpose.

"This... is what you've built?" she whispered, awestruck.

"Yep. And now, you're going to help me protect it."

Testarossa smirked, standing tall.

"With pleasure, my lord."

And so, the elegant and powerful Testarossa, born from chaos and pride, took her place beside Saiki, ready to charm or crush anyone who dared challenge the rising Storm Kingdom.