"Tenra-sama, the holy sword wielder has awakened."
Tenra had barely stepped out of his room with Raynare and the others when Yubelluna approached, her voice low and respectful.
"She's awake already? Good. I'll go see her."
A faint smile touched Tenra's lips as he waved Raynare and the others off. He made his way to the room where Xenovia was recovering.
"Tenra-san."
"Tenra—Xenovia, she…"
Asia and Irina were sitting with Xenovia, trying to comfort her. When Tenra entered, both girls rose to their feet, concern etched on their faces.
Tenra nodded to them, then turned his attention to Xenovia.
She was a shell of her former self. Gone was the proud, spirited swordswoman; in her place sat a girl staring blankly at the floor, unmoved even as Tenra stood before her.
Her physical wounds had healed, but the trauma of shattered faith lingered—a wound no magic could mend.
For someone who'd lived as a devout believer, the truth of God's death was a blow that defied words.
"You really fell apart just because your God is dead? Is that all you are, Xenovia?"
Tenra didn't bother with gentle words or comfort. His tone was cold, almost mocking, as he looked down at her.
Something flickered in Xenovia's vacant eyes. Suddenly, she lurched to her feet and grabbed Tenra's shirt, voice trembling with rage.
"What do you know, you devil?!"
"My entire life was for God! If He's dead, then what's the point of me living?!"
She was shouting, pain and fury tangled together. No one could understand the agony of losing her faith.
"Xenovia…"
"Xenovia-san…"
Irina and Asia watched anxiously, but Tenra remained unfazed, a hint of amusement on his lips.
Anger and pain—good. That meant she wasn't beyond saving.
"You're almost cute, you know. Is this how the Church brainwashed you? God's dead, yes. That's reality. But the world keeps turning, and you're still here."
"So, Xenovia… what does it matter if He's gone?"
Tenra reached out and brushed her cheek, his smile gentle but his words merciless.
Xenovia flinched as if struck. She tried to protest, voice shaking.
"No… No… Without God's guidance, we… we…"
The words died on her lips. She couldn't argue. God had been gone for ages, yet the world hadn't ended. They were still alive. What difference did it make?
Tenra's logic was undeniable, but it clashed violently with everything she'd ever believed. Without God, her life was meaningless. Without God, the world should have collapsed.
"Ahhh!"
Torn between pain and confusion, Xenovia clutched her head and screamed.
Irina and Asia started forward to comfort her, but Tenra stopped them with a look.
To be reborn, she had to break first.
He let her rage and wail until, at last, she collapsed, breathless and lost, staring at nothing.
What now? What was she supposed to do?
Tenra saw her spirit had finally cracked. He knelt, lifted her chin, and spoke softly:
"Xenovia, if you need a God so desperately, let me be your new God. If you need something to believe in, let me be your faith."
"I want to build a world of peace and light—a world where everyone can be happy."
"If you need meaning, then help me. Join me in saving this world that's lost its God."
His words rang through the room, heavy and impossible to ignore.
Asia's hands folded in prayer, her eyes shining with devotion. Irina's cheeks burned, mind racing—Tenra was shameless, a manipulator, a fraud.
But Xenovia just stared at Tenra, lost in a daze.
In that emptiness, she glimpsed a sliver of light.
Like a drowning child grasping at anything, like a lost lamb glimpsing hope—she wanted to chase it, to hold on.
"Think carefully, Xenovia. I'll be waiting for your answer."
Tenra smiled, then turned and left.
He'd done his part. Now it was up to Xenovia. If she chose faith and loyalty, perfect. If not, he'd use other means.
Her fate was set—his believer, his tool.
Tenra was already gone when Xenovia finally blinked back to reality. The emptiness rushed in, cold and overwhelming.
She took a deep breath, then turned to Asia and Irina.
"Irina… you knew God was dead, didn't you?"
Irina hesitated, then nodded. "Tenra told me a long time ago."
"I see…"
Xenovia managed a bitter smile. God had been dead all along, and the Church had lied to her. Suddenly, she felt nothing but anger and disgust for everything she'd served—angels, popes, all of them liars.
"Asia Argento, is that why you chose to believe in Tenra Kamiyo?"
Xenovia's gaze shifted to Asia.
"Yes. When I learned the truth, I was just as lost and hurt as you, Xenovia-san. I had no direction, no meaning. But Tenra-san saved me."
"He inherited God's will—gentle, loving, great. If anyone can save this world, I believe it's Tenra-san."
"So please, Xenovia-san, join us!"
Asia's voice was pure, sincere—there was no trace of deception.
Irina shivered inside. What had Tenra done to brainwash a saint like Asia so completely? She vowed never to let herself fall under his spell. Never.
Xenovia looked at Asia for a long moment, then finally nodded, resolve flickering in her eyes.
"I know what I have to do…"
"Lord, accept our repentance. Guide us to the light…"
In the grand hall, with Rias and the others watching, Xenovia knelt beside Asia before Tenra, praying to her new master.
"Welcome, Xenovia."
Tenra stroked her cheek, his smile radiant.
It felt good—another tool, another believer added to his collection.
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