Chapter 13: The First Real Move

Chapter 13: The First Real Move

The fog rolled low over the Agares estate that morning, the mist curling through the hedgerows and gravel paths like the breath of ancient dragons.

Volundr sat at a balcony table, poring over a tome bound in deep violet leather. Its contents weren't magical incantations or battle strategies.

Instead, it was an old civil codex, one that cataloged obscure territorial rights and the protocols of property inheritance among the Pillar families.

Claudius stood behind him, arms crossed. "Most your age prefer spellbooks or dueling manuals."

Volundr didn't look up. "Most my age aren't interested in history's blind spots."

He found the line he was looking for—an overlooked article ratified centuries ago during the final years of the Great War, regarding the provisional use of abandoned military lands by noble houses without direct heirs.

He closed the book gently, already constructing the argument in his mind.

A week later, Volundr stood in the private library of Duke Lazan Ristoph—a retired magician and reclusive war veteran.

The Duke's mansion, perched along a cliff overlooking a churning sea of violet fog, was built like a fortress. Runes guarded every threshold.

Lazan peered at Volundr through a monocle glowing with detection magic. "You're ten years old."

"Nine," Volundr corrected. "I'll be ten in two moons."

"And yet you request a former Great War training ground? For what purpose?"

"Development," Volundr said, voice calm.

"My future peerage will require a space untouched by politics, removed from distractions.

Your lands are perfectly suited."

The Duke chuckled, dry as dust. "You don't even have your Evil Pieces yet."

"I'm preparing for when I do."

Lazan raised a brow. "How did you find this loophole?"

Volundr passed him a sealed scroll—his legal argument, structured with maddening precision.

"You're not your average brat," the Duke muttered, scanning the document.

"No, I'm not."

Claudius watched Volundr hand the final notarized request to the Underworld's Territorial Usage Bureau with a faint smile.

"The clerks won't know what hit them," he said.

"They won't need to," Volundr replied. "The law speaks for itself. If they refuse, I'll just appeal to the old guardians of wartime jurisdiction. Their pride won't allow rejection."

Lirien shook her head. "You're weaponizing bureaucracy. That's new."

"No," Volundr said. "That's old. Jia Xu was a master of influence, not just tactics. True control lies in systems, not swords."

Later that month, Volundr drafted his first formal petition to the Devil Young Heirs' Council—a body of elite devils still considering him a child with noble blood and little else.

His petition requested permission to prepare a private training program for future peerage formation, citing the history of Riser Phenex's unpreparedness as a cautionary example.

It was elegant, sharp, and filled with thinly veiled critiques that made even older nobles pause.

Whispers bloomed through noble circles:

"The Agares boy's… unusually serious."

"Who taught him how to write like that?"

"Have you seen the legal citations? He might be more dangerous on parchment than in battle."

While attending a minor diplomatic dinner hosted by the House of Sabnock, Volundr overheard troubling whispers—a potential engagement between Seekvaira and a scion from Glasya-Labolas.

The match was meant to stabilize power alignments between the families.

He moved quickly.

By the next afternoon, he'd crafted an alternative proposal—a collaborative magical project between the two houses, with equal co-sponsorship and public prestige.

Through clever wordplay and subtle manipulation, he positioned Seekvaira as indispensable to the research initiative.

When the engagement talks were raised in council, the Glasya-Labolas heir's family pulled out, not wanting to offend House Agares or risk the exposure of their house's internal instability.

Seekvaira, who had not been informed until after it had all been arranged, approached him in the garden.

"You did all this... to keep them away?"

Volundr nodded. "You deserve choice, not obligation."

She studied him for a long moment, then whispered, "You're not just watching over me. You're protecting our future."

That night, as he meditated beneath the moonlight, Volundr's thoughts turned inward.

Jia Xu hadn't just been a master of survival—he was a weaver of worlds, someone who understood how one move on the board could reshape a kingdom.

"Philosophy isn't what you think," he murmured. "It's not musings on right and wrong. It's the art of placement. The study of intent. And the understanding that power... is never held—it's borrowed."

Volundr opened his eyes, sharper than before.

He had made his first real move.

Now, the board was his.

End of Chapter 13