Saiki Kusuo floated above the throne room of the Storm Kingdom, completely invisible. Below him, Veldora was rallying the others—Guy, Velgrynd, Velzard, Milim, and the Transcendent demons. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation, filled with confidence, fear, and strategy. Yet for Saiki, it was… well, predictable.
He popped another spoonful of coffee jelly into his mouth, his eyes half-lidded with his signature bored look.
"Vorathis… the big bad wolf. Sure, he's scary, strong, dramatic. He'll fight, he'll roar, he'll lose—or maybe he'll win. Then someone stronger will come. Then stronger again. Over and over. What a pain."
Saiki sighed, his expression never changing.
"This isn't proving anything. It's just chaos piled on chaos. If they really think this is a test, then it's the most exhausting test in history. Someone should just ask the teacher what the point is instead of running laps forever."
His spoon scraped the last bit of jelly from the cup. He swallowed and blinked once.
"Guess that someone is me."
Without warning, the space around him rippled. Reality bent, twisted, and folded inward. This was not teleportation, nor time travel. This was Saiki's psychic ability tearing through the fabric of dimensions themselves. He wasn't just leaving the battlefield—he was leaving the very world.
In an instant, he vanished.
The transition was unlike anything he had ever experienced. At first, there was nothing but endless void—black, silent, infinite. Then, slowly, light blossomed. A horizon of brilliance unfolded around him, not sunlight but something deeper, purer. The air shimmered with golden waves, like every particle of existence was alive and humming.
Saiki's usually unshakable gaze flickered, just slightly.
"...This place. It smells… clean. Too clean. Like perfection turned into oxygen."
The ground beneath him wasn't ground at all. It was crystal and marble, stretching endlessly in patterns so precise they seemed alive. Above him, a sky of shifting colors—violet, azure, gold—like a living aurora frozen in eternal beauty. Every breath carried a fragrance impossible to describe, like the combined scent of every flower, every forest, every ocean breeze.
Even Saiki Kusuo, the man who had seen it all, thought flatly to himself:
"…Yare yare. This really is a god realm."
At the center of it all stood a throne—not built, but born. It glowed with living light, woven from starlight and eternity itself. And upon that throne sat a figure that no description could fully capture.
Veldanava.
The Supreme One. The Creator of all.
His form radiated majesty not through force, but through inevitability. He was tall, his hair flowing in strands of radiant silver mixed with shades of the deepest night. His eyes were galaxies themselves, endless and unblinking, every star and world reflected within. His robe was not cloth but constellations, shifting in patterns that told the story of creation itself.
And yet, despite all this divine terror, Veldanava's expression was calm. Almost… welcoming.
His voice rang out, not in sound but in existence itself.
"Saiki Kusuo."
The name echoed like a ripple through eternity.
Saiki hovered before him, spoon still in hand, unimpressed. "So you know me."
Veldanava smiled, the kind of smile that could warm or shatter an entire world.
"Of course I do. You do not belong to the paths I have written. Not to the True Dragons, nor to the Demon Lords, nor to the Children of Men in the Cardinal World. You are a stray star, a foreign thread woven into my tapestry."
His eyes narrowed slightly, but with curiosity, not malice.
"And yet… you are fascinating."
Saiki raised an eyebrow, deadpan as ever. "Fascinating, huh. Usually, people just call me a nuisance."
The Supreme One chuckled, the sound like sunlight touching skin.
"Perhaps both are true."
Veldanava's gaze sharpened. "You know this is not a place mortals can tread. Not even the True Dragons can enter my sanctuary unless I will it. And yet… here you stand."
Saiki shrugged, twirling his spoon. "Yeah, well. When things get too messy, it's easier to go straight to the top. Saves me time."
The god tilted his head slightly, intrigued. "Time? You speak as though the games of gods bore you."
Saiki's gaze remained flat. "Vorathis is coming. He'll fight. Maybe he'll lose, maybe he'll win. But then someone else will come. Stronger. Then another. And another. Forever. Endless cycles. Honestly, it's a pain. If this is supposed to be a lesson, it's the worst lesson plan I've ever seen."
The silence that followed was absolute. Even the light seemed to pause.
Then Veldanava's smile faded into something more solemn, more weighty. His voice rolled like thunder hidden beneath calm skies.
"So… you have come to ask the teacher what the point is."
Saiki tucked his spoon into his pocket, his expression the same as ever.
"Exactly. Yare yare… let's skip the games. Why set up this endless parade of battles in the first place?"
Veldanava leaned forward, his cosmic eyes shining with unreadable depth.
"Because…" He paused, as though weighing eternity itself. "...it is the only way mortals learn the weight of creation."
Saiki tilted his head slightly, his deadpan gaze never changing.
"Weight of creation, huh. Yare yare… sounds poetic, but let me ask you this—what's the point?"
Veldanava's cosmic eyes flickered with intrigue. Few had ever dared to question him so directly.
Saiki continued, his tone flat but sharp like a blade:
"In a world full of magic and power, everyone already assumes there's always someone stronger. They live with that every day. And yet none of them know where that magic comes from. None of them understand its essence or its true purpose. Why does one person get more than another? Why does one evolve into something greater while another stays behind? Why do some transform into demons, angels, dragons… while others stay human? Is any of it fair?"
He crossed his arms.
"All you're doing by throwing stronger opponents at them is forcing them to obsess over one thing: power. Beating the next enemy. Growing stronger. Fighting, fighting, fighting. But where does that leave… everything else?"
For a moment, the god realm was silent.
Saiki pressed on, his voice cool, steady, unshaken:
"Where's the part where they advance humanity? Where they learn, grow, build knowledge, develop technology? Where they find something worth passing on besides scars and battle records? Because at the end of the day, none of them are immortal. One day, even the strongest True Dragon will be gone. Even the longest-living Demon Lord will vanish. Is that really the world you want? A world where power is the only currency? A world where fear and strength are the rulers?"
He shrugged. "Sounds… boring."
Veldanava's eyes narrowed—not with anger, but with contemplation. His divine aura rippled like a sea disturbed by a single stone.
"You speak boldly for one who stands in the house of creation itself," he said slowly. "And yet… your words are not without truth."
He leaned back in his throne, his eyes tracing Saiki as though seeing through every layer of his being.
"Power has always been the language of this world. Magic is its heartbeat, its currency, its lifeblood. But I have also watched what you have done, Saiki Kusuo. I have seen how you move unseen, like a ghost through the lives of others, never claiming credit, never seeking thrones or crowns."
The god's voice deepened, carrying a strange warmth.
"You gave Veldora wisdom when he had only strength. You gave him purpose when he had only chaos. You crowned him king, taught him charisma, and built a kingdom where peace reigns—not fear. A kingdom where species live together in harmony. Where demons, dragons, humans, monsters coexist not by dominance but by order. You remain in the shadows, but your hand has shaped the Storm Kingdom."
Saiki's eyes half-lidded again. "So you've been spying on me, huh. Figures. Yare yare daze…"
Veldanava smiled faintly.
"It is a kingdom not of conquest, but of balance. Schools where knowledge is shared. Fields where growth is valued, not just strength. That, Saiki, is what the world needs. Not endless power struggles, but… harmony."
Saiki tilted his head. "Then explain something. If you know that, what's the point of Vorathis attacking? Veldora and the others will fight him. Maybe they win, maybe they don't, but the result is the same. He'll fall eventually. And then what? Another one stronger than him shows up? And then another? And another? An infinite tournament arc?"
Veldanava's expression shifted, more solemn now. His cosmic eyes dimmed, like stars beneath a veil.
"…Because this trial was not my idea."
Saiki's eyebrow twitched, the closest thing to surprise he ever showed.
"Oh?"
The god of creation lowered his gaze, his voice almost like thunder muted behind clouds.
"It came from Kaelor—the god of the Boundless Reach Realm. He proposed it to me: a trial for the strongest in the Cardinal world. A test to show them that no matter how high they climb, there will always be a summit above them. That no matter their evolution, no matter their victories… there will always be a strongest."
Saiki rubbed his temple, annoyed. "Yare yare… so this whole thing isn't even your lesson plan. It's some other teacher's idea, and you're just letting him use your classroom."
Veldanava actually chuckled at that. His laugh was quiet but vast, like distant bells ringing across eternity.
"You could say that."
Saiki's eyes sharpened just a little, though his tone stayed flat.
"Then maybe the real question isn't about showing people the 'weight of creation.' Maybe it's about whether you're satisfied letting another god dictate the cycle of your world."
Veldanava's smile faded into something heavy, contemplative.
"You are bold, Saiki Kusuo. Few would dare to speak such things in my presence."
Saiki shrugged again, turning his gaze away.
"Bold? No. Just tired of watching reruns."
Another silence stretched between them, heavy but not hostile. This was no longer a debate of defiance—it was a conversation between two beings who stood outside the ordinary flow of the Cardinal world.
And for the first time in ages, Veldanava—the God of Creation—looked intrigued.