The Silent Deity: Saiki Kusuo in Tensura

The skies over Falmuth trembled with tension as a royal procession streaked through the clouds like golden arrows. The flying carriages gleamed under the sun, adorned with imperial sigils and golden runes that shone like miniature stars. The insignia of the Eastern Empire waved proudly atop each carriage. This was not just a diplomatic visit—it was a statement of dominance.

Emperor Rudra, prideful and legendary, sat calmly at the head of the procession. Beside him, the blazing beauty of the Crimson Dragon, Velgrynd, crossed her legs, watching the land below with keen eyes. Behind them, several of Rudra's most powerful generals followed in formation, their very presence bending the air with pressure.

"He's trying to intimidate us," Testarossa muttered, smirking from one of the tower balconies far below. "How… expected."

With the help of Souei's shadow network, Falmuth had been thoroughly prepared. King Elric was not about to be outshone—not by pomp, and certainly not by pride.

As Rudra's fleet descended, his expression shifted from smug amusement to faint confusion.

The Royal Guard of Falmuth stood lined in formation below. Towering, pristine, terrifyingly synchronized. Their armor glistened with ancient enchantments, enchanted fabric wrapped around rune-carved breastplates. The streets were lined with disciplined citizens—every one of them cheering, not out of fear, but with genuine national pride.

A single glance told Rudra everything: This is not the same Falmuth.

"Impressive," Velgrynd whispered, tilting her head. "Veldora's influence...?"

"No," Rudra said, narrowing his eyes. "This… feels too refined even for him."

They were greeted by the Royal Guard captain, whose uniform radiated calm strength. His voice was even, his speech flawless.

"We welcome the Eastern Empire's radiant Emperor, Rudra, and the Scarlet Empress Velgrynd. Our King awaits you."

The group was escorted through the grand hallway. Everything had changed.

The walls were embedded with silver-framed tapestries depicting the new Falmuth—its revival, its armies, its people. The floors were polished obsidian marble laced with veins of glowing mana crystal. It was no longer the home of a broken monarchy—it was a temple of sovereignty and rebirth.

And finally, the throne room.

Gasps were quietly exchanged between Rudra's men. The room was vast, the ceilings painted with mythical scenes. Pillars glowed with arcane energy. A new symbol was engraved above the throne—the eye of the storm. And seated on the throne...

King Elric.

He wore royal indigo robes etched in silver. His posture was perfect, chin held high, gaze sharp yet welcoming. On his right stood Ultima, icy and unreadable. On his left, Carrera, her presence fierce and unshakable. Behind them, rows of demon guards stood like statues, deadly quiet.

As Rudra walked down the long hall, every step echoed. He felt the pressure—not magical—but psychological. The aura of authority that Elric had built wasn't from fear.

It was from respect.

A round table, masterfully carved and inlaid with stormsteel and marble, awaited. A seat—crafted just slightly higher than the others—had been prepared for Rudra. But the symbolism wasn't lost on him: Elric sat at the head.

"Welcome, Emperor Rudra. It is a great honor to host a man of your legacy," Elric said, voice steady, firm but polite.

"The honor is mine," Rudra replied with a calm grin. "Falmuth looks... reborn. Quite the transformation."

"Much can grow from the ashes, when one waters it with vision," Elric responded smoothly.

They took their seats. Tension curled between their words like smoke in the air. Velgrynd leaned forward slightly, intrigued.

"And what vision is that, King Elric?" she asked, her voice low and alluring, but calculating.

"One of balance," Elric answered. "Where power is not flaunted, but directed. Where the people are not ruled, but guided."

Rudra smirked.

"Guided? Sounds a lot like manipulation."

"Doesn't every empire guide its people to its ideals?" Elric countered. "Or do you claim yours has never used a firm hand to shape its future?"

The generals behind Rudra shifted slightly.

Rudra leaned back, eyes narrowing.

"You speak well. Too well for a newly crowned king."

"Wisdom comes not only with age," Elric said, smiling, "but with listening. I've listened carefully to the heartbeat of my kingdom. I've stitched together its wounds—not with brute force, but with understanding."

There was a pause. One of Rudra's generals clenched his jaw.

Watching from a balcony high above, floating with legs crossed and coffee jelly in hand, was Saiki.

"Mmm... Elric's doing well," he mumbled. "He even remembered to pause after answering. Dramatic silence. That's emperor-tier behavior."

Saiki had imprinted emperor psychology into Elric—when to make eye contact, how to appear humble without looking weak, how to speak without revealing anything, and how to turn arrogance into reflection.

"Next, insert some vague philosophical statement to stun Rudra... now."

"Tell me, King Elric," Rudra said, steepling his fingers, "how do you intend to keep this power? What stops your people from falling into rebellion again? War leaves scars."

"Only when scars are ignored," Elric said gently. "We've addressed the root. We've uplifted the hungry, taxed the greedy, and given purpose to the lost."

Velgrynd tapped the table. "And what of your military? These reforms... they threaten your nobles. Your generals."

"The unworthy ones, yes," Elric said plainly. "But a true leader knows: sometimes, you must trim the garden so the flowers may bloom."

Rudra chuckled for the first time.

"You speak like someone who's been leading for decades. Yet... there are whispers you're a puppet."

"Puppets dance. I command."

The room went quiet. Even Velgrynd's eyebrows raised slightly.

"I may have help," Elric added calmly, "but the crown sits on my head. And this kingdom, Emperor... beats with my heart."

As the hours passed, the talks became more technical—trade routes, border security, magical research exchanges. Elric gave ground where he could, held his ground where it mattered. He never overpromised, never spoke more than he should. Every word had purpose.

At the end, Rudra stood.

"Very well. You've earned my attention, King Elric. I will... reconsider our terms with Falmuth. And in time, perhaps we'll call each other allies."

Elric bowed his head slightly.

"Falmuth stands ready to meet the world. Not as a shadow of its past... but as a light in the storm."

As Rudra and Velgrynd departed, her voice broke the silence.

"He's dangerous."

"He's clever," Rudra replied.

"He's both," she muttered. "And worst of all... he's good at it."

Rudra didn't respond for a moment. Then, quietly:

"Perhaps it's time... I started listening more too."

Meanwhile, Floating Overhead...

Saiki spooned the last bit of jelly from the cup and smiled lazily.

"Whew. That was almost emotional."

"Elric leveled up. Rudra got humbled. Velgrynd's intrigued. I give this episode a solid 9 out of 10."

He pulled another jelly from thin air and laid back.

"Next visitor better bring fireworks."