Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. The Cardinal World was quiet—almost too quiet.
The Storm Kingdom, ruled by the ever-watchful Veldora, had grown into a symbol of balance and strength. Trade flourished, borders held steady, and even the demon lords who once clashed for dominance seemed... content.
But true peace is a fragile illusion in a world built on power.
Far beyond the skies, beyond the stars, beyond even the reach of space and time, there existed a realm that did not belong to the Cardinal World. A place known as Vael'tharion, the Boundless Reach.
In this ethereal realm, where the skies shimmered with cosmic auroras and the ground pulsed with threads of pure will, stood Kaelor, the God of Boundless Reach.
He was tall, serene, robed in silken threads of violet and silver that moved like they were alive. His presence didn't roar—it resonated. Time itself bent slightly around him, as if reality was reminded who sat at the top.
Before him knelt a woman—graceful, composed, and wrapped in an ever-flowing veil of wind. Her silver-blue hair danced as though caught in a breeze no one else could feel. Her name was Saphielle, the Gale Arcanum. Her eyes, calm yet impossibly deep, shimmered with the hue of distant lightning storms.
Kaelor stood with his hands folded behind his back, gazing out into the curtain of his realm where the endless void met swirling lights.
"Saphielle," he said softly, but his voice echoed like a command through creation itself.
She bowed her head respectfully.
"My lord Kaelor."
He turned toward her, eyes glowing faintly gold.
"The time has come. I will send you to the Cardinal World."
Saphielle blinked, her expression unreadable.
"You wish for me to destroy?"
Kaelor shook his head slowly.
"No. That world—that realm—was not mine to create. It belongs to Veldanava."
He stepped forward, the floor beneath him shimmering with each movement.
"Veldanava and I made a pact. I will send my chosen to test the strength of his realm's champions. Not to conquer. Not to dominate. But to push them. To see if they've grown beyond what fate had once written for them."
Saphielle's lips curled slightly—not a smile, but something close.
"And if they fail?"
"Then they will fall," Kaelor replied without hesitation. "But not by your hand unjustly. You are not to harm the innocent, the civilians, or the weak. You are not executioner, but examiner."
She tilted her head slightly.
"And who do I test?"
Kaelor's eyes narrowed with purpose.
"The Demon Lords. The transcendent demons. The True Dragons. Those who claim sovereignty in the Cardinal World. Each of them shall face the Gale. Each of them shall reveal what lies at the edge of their power."
There was a brief silence before Saphielle stood fully, the air around her vibrating with the soft roar of ancient winds.
"I understand. I will obey, as always."
Kaelor studied her for a moment longer, then turned away, gazing back out at the swirling cosmos.
"You were born from the Silent Storms that howl beyond time itself, Saphielle. You are the storm. Do not forget that."
"I never have," she replied gently. "And I never will."
He raised his hand slowly, and a tear in space formed before them, glowing with a golden shimmer that hummed like a choir.
"The Cardinal World awaits," Kaelor said.
Saphielle stepped toward the portal, her cloak billowing, her feet never quite touching the floor.
But just before she passed through, she paused.
"Will Veldanava watch?"
Kaelor's voice grew quiet—almost reverent.
"He always does."
With that, Saphielle vanished into the light.
The storm was on its way.
And the champions of the Cardinal World would soon be tested like never before.
The sky outside the Cardinal World was endless and hushed. No stars. No sun. Just a pale light curling around space, like the edge of a storm waiting to break.
Out of that hush stepped Saphielle, the Gale Arcanum, her silver hair drifting behind her like mist caught in the wind. Her eyes glowed faintly — not with cruelty, but purpose. Her mission was not to conquer. Not to destroy. Not to kill.
But to test.
To push the limits of those the gods themselves had named mighty.
She hovered in silence, letting her power expand around her like an unseen tide. Kaelor's instructions echoed in her mind:
"No innocents, no ruin. Only challenge. Only truth. You have one year. Choose wisely."
A year.
Saphielle exhaled, her breath shaping into winds that could bend time if she willed it. The Cardinal World lay below — vast, living, layered with kingdoms and powers, from towering mountain citadels to burning sand kingdoms to dark forests haunted by ancient shadows.
She closed her eyes and focused.
One by one, their presences lit up in her awareness like flares in a foggy night:
Guy Crimson, the Demon Lord, radiating a cold, ancient authority.
Milim Nava, chaotic, fiery, and joyful in her strength.
Luminous Valentine, divine elegance wrapped in moonlight and blood.
Leon Cromwell, the solar king, his power polished and sharp.
Draguel, the giant.
Frey, wings beating with clarity, silent and precise.
Carrion, the Beast King, proud and storm-hearted.
Dino, the sleeping one, whose laziness hid something deep.
Then came the True Dragons.
Veldora, wise and charismatic.
Velgrynd, fierce and unyielding.
Velzard, colder than death, patient like glaciers.
And the Transcendent Demons.
Diablo, wrapped in darkness that shimmered like silk.
Testarossa, graceful and terrifying.
Ultima, vibrant and fast like dancing lightning.
Carrera, reckless and grinning, chaos distilled.
And again, Guy Crimson, standing at the threshold of both demon and something more.
Saphielle opened her eyes.
Plan.
If she were to challenge these beings, she could not simply appear and demand battle. That was wasteful. Predictable. Stupid.
Instead, she raised her hands toward the sea far from the continents. Her magic sang, a song that shaped land from nothing, sky from silence.
A new island rose — vast and circular, with mountains curled like the fingers of a sleeping beast around a central plateau. A perfect arena. Safe for the world, unreachable by civilians, but close enough to be felt by those meant to come.
In the center, she placed a spire of wind and light — an invitation.
Then she began to whisper.
Not with words. With essence. With wind. With the weight of a challenge that only the strong would feel.
In the Storm Kingdom...
High in the clouds, veiled from all, a pink-haired boy sat cross-legged on a floating rock, a tub of coffee jelly in his hand. Saiki Kusuo, still invisible to the world, took another bite without emotion.
He froze mid-chew.
"...Yare yare. Another fool with a god complex."
He blinked once, tracking Saphielle's presence without moving. His eyes followed her magic, her creation, her plan.
"...Creating an island just to pick a fight with the strongest. This is why I don't talk to people."
He sighed. Loudly. But no one could hear him.
He took another bite.
"...This Isekai life is way too busy. One minute you're enjoying dessert, the next some hurricane lady shows up with a divine ego."
He paused.
"Still… it might be interesting."
Saiki leaned back, invisible wind rustling his shirt as he turned his attention fully toward the new island.
Back on the Island
Saphielle stood atop the spire she created, wind wrapping around her in spirals like loyal serpents.
"If they are as strong as Kaelor says," she murmured to herself, "then they'll come. Not for me. But for the challenge. For the chance to prove — or discover — something about themselves."
She knew pride ran deep in the hearts of Demon Lords. She knew dragons never turned away from a storm. And transcendent demons… they were wild cards.
She extended her hand to the wind, shaping eight orbs of glowing wind crystal.
Each orb would fly, invisible to the average being, and reach its target — one to each of the Demon Lords.
And so it began....