The Silent Deity: Saiki Kusuo in Tensura

In the opulent capital of the Eastern Empire, Emperor Rudra Nam Ul Nasca stood at the edge of his sky palace's balcony, watching the clouds drift across the horizon. His normally confident expression was stained with something rare: hesitation.

He hadn't slept much. Nor had his generals.

The weight of failure lingered like a ghost in every corridor.

He had summoned angels—pure celestial forces.

And yet they were utterly destroyed.

The name that now haunted every war table in the Empire was Veldora. Not the berserking dragon they once mocked—but the commanding, composed sovereign of the Storm Kingdom, whose retaliation had been swift, surgical, and absolute.

There were whispers—rumors spreading like fire.

"Veldora hasn't retaliated yet. Why?"

"What is he waiting for?"

"Is he gathering allies?"

"Will he crush us in a single sweep?"

Even Velgrynd, Rudra's most trusted and beloved companion, had no answers. She watched over him with a sharp eye, ready to move at the first sign of threat.

But none came.

The Eastern Empire waited.

And Veldora… remained still.

Far from the worried halls of the Empire, inside a quiet garden that shimmered beneath a silvery sky, Veldora lounged beneath a cherry blossom tree. Leaves drifted around him like sleepy butterflies. The Storm Kingdom was at peace again, fully thriving.

Across from him sat Saiki Kusuo, floating slightly above the grass in his usual pose, sipping from a large cup of coffee jelly.

The wind blew gently.

For a while, there was no sound except the rustling of the trees and the occasional squish of jelly being consumed.

Veldora exhaled deeply, gazing at the sky.

"Saiki," he finally said, "what do you think I should do about Rudra and the Eastern Empire?"

Saiki didn't immediately answer. He stirred his jelly slowly.

The air seemed to pause.

Then Saiki opened one eye lazily.

"You could destroy them," he said bluntly. "But that's not really the problem, is it?"

Veldora's lips twitched. He chuckled.

"No. It's not." He folded his arms. "They declared war by unleashing angels on my people. Countless lives were nearly lost. If not for our preparations, there would've been nothing left. And yet…"

He trailed off.

Saiki finished the last bite of jelly and, with a snap of his fingers, materialized another cup midair.

"They're terrified," Saiki said flatly. "Your silence is doing more than your fire ever could."

Veldora looked toward the horizon.

"You're saying I should just let them drown in their own fear?"

Saiki leaned back, hands behind his head. "It's more effective than war."

"But is it right?" Veldora asked, serious now.

That made Saiki pause.

"…Right?" Saiki muttered. "If you're asking what's right, you've already grown. The old Veldora would've turned that place into a crater five minutes after being attacked."

Veldora smirked. "You're not wrong."

Then Saiki's voice grew quieter.

"Make them see the weight of their mistake. Let them try to fix it. If they don't… then crush them."

Veldora leaned against the tree, eyes closed.

He could see it now—the Empire trembling, Rudra unsure, Velgrynd quiet for once. They expected death. They expected fire.

And instead, they got silence.

A terrifying, deliberate silence.

Saiki had a point.

"Fear," Veldora murmured, "can teach far more than flames."

He looked over.

"Thanks, Saiki."

Saiki just raised a brow and muttered, "Yare yare," while casually floating higher into the tree branches, coffee jelly in hand.

Back in the Empire…

"Still nothing?" Rudra asked.

"No movement," his generals answered. "No armies. No messages."

Velgrynd narrowed her eyes. "That's the worst part… They're doing nothing. Which means they're planning everything."

And Rudra?

He sat silently.

Haunted by a question that Saiki had already answered—

What does Veldora want?

The skies above the world were calm, but no one believed the peace.

The Storm Kingdom, now the rising superpower, had gone quiet after the Eastern Empire's failed attack—quiet in a way that made the world tremble. Everyone had seen the skies torn open by divine light, had felt the rumble when Rudra unleashed the angels.

Everyone also saw those angels erased like smoke under a tidal wave of power.

The Empire had declared war.

And the Storm Kingdom had not yet answered.

But that silence… felt worse than war.

Deep within the stone walls of the underground city, King Gazel stood over a war table. Maps were scattered across the surface, marked with pins and banners representing major factions. The heavy scent of molten ore still clung to his cloak—he had come directly from the forge.

Around him stood his advisors, dwarven commanders, and diplomats.

"We need to prepare," one general said, pointing to the east. "If Storm retaliates and the Empire strikes back, we'll be caught in the crossfire."

Gazel rubbed his beard, eyes narrowing.

"No," he said. "The Storm King is too smart to start a war blindly. He'll wait. Make them bleed through fear and tension. But…" He looked at his advisors, voice heavy. "If war does start, we need to decide where we stand."

They all knew what he meant.

The Storm Kingdom had changed. It wasn't just a land of wild tempests anymore. It was organized. Powerful. And ruled by Veldora—a being who now walked, spoke, and led like a king.

To stand against them… was suicide.

To stand with them… might anger the Empire.

The dwarves said nothing. The weight of the decision hung in the air like a sword.

In a candle-lit chamber, Fuze, the acting head of Blumund's international affairs, sat before a council of merchants, nobles, and scholars.

"I want trade with the Storm Kingdom reopened immediately," he said firmly.

One noble scoffed, "But if they attack the Empire, won't that put us in danger?"

Fuze stared him down.

"If they wanted us dead, we'd be ash. Don't mistake silence for passiveness. It's strategy."

The room fell quiet.

He leaned forward.

"Mark my words—if war breaks out, it will reshape the entire world."

King Amaris, known for his calm demeanor and strategic mind, paced along the palace walls as desert winds howled outside.

His daughter approached. "Father, will Veldora destroy the Empire?"

Amaris looked up at the stars. "He could. Easily."

"Then why hasn't he?"

He smiled slightly, hands behind his back.

"Because power doesn't speak with thunder all the time. Sometimes, it whispers. And the whole world listens."

He glanced eastward.

"Still… we must prepare our fleets. If the storm reaches us, even sand will not protect us."

In the lush forest of Sarion, Empress Elmesia listened as her scholars debated.

"Should we send envoys?" one elf asked.

"Or prepare for evacuation?" another added.

Elmesia lifted a hand. Silence fell.

"Storm is not moving. That tells us one thing…"

Everyone leaned in.

"They're calculating."

She stood up, her golden eyes serious.

"We will not provoke either side. But we will watch. Closely. Send word to every ranger—if Veldora even thinks of moving, I want to know before the ground does."

In her gothic cathedral throne room, Luminous Valentine, the ruler of Ruberios, sat in silence.

Her generals knelt before her.

"My lady," one said, "Do you believe the Storm Kingdom will strike?"

She didn't answer at first.

Instead, she stood, descending the steps of her throne slowly.

"I have seen divine wrath," she murmured. "And what I saw on that battlefield… was worse."

The general shivered.

"Have we offended them, Lady Luminous?"

"No. But the Empire has." She turned away. "And now, the entire world waits to see how the Dragon King will answer."

Across every kingdom, the same unease spread like fog:

Nobles debated.

Generals sharpened swords.

Spies scrambled for answers.

Because Veldora was not responding.

Not with soldiers.

Not with threats.

Not even with words.

And in that silence, the fear grew.

Would he forgive?

Would he retaliate?

Would the sky open again?

Meanwhile… In the Storm Kingdom...

Saiki floated upside down in the sky, eating coffee jelly from a glowing cup while watching people return to the city gates, merchants laughing, kids running, life blooming again.

Veldora stood beside him, arms crossed.

"They're all talking," Veldora said.

Saiki didn't even look over.

"They're scared."

"I know."

"Let them be."

"...You really think so?"

Saiki looked at him for a second.

"Fear sharpens people. Let them think you'll attack. It'll fix more things than fire ever will."

Veldora cracked a grin.

"Now that… is a very draconic answer."

Saiki just rolled his eyes and slurped the jelly louder.