Chapter 4: Eyes of a Child, Mind of a Strategist
From the moment Volundr's memories reawakened at age five, the world around him shifted from a soft blur to sharp clarity. The vast halls of the Agares estate no longer appeared as a child's playground—they became an intricate battlefield of whispers, power, and legacy.
He sat in the study one day, a thick, ancient tome spread across his lap. It was filled with the history of the Great War, the descent of the original Satans, the aftermath of the Devil Civil War, and the rise of the current Satans. The political structure of the Underworld was an evolving web of alliances, betrayals, and power struggles.
Volundr, despite his small stature, studied these volumes with focus that unsettled the servants.
"Why is the Sitri clan allowed to act so freely despite their push for reform?" he once asked a passing butler.
The man, caught off guard, fumbled for a response. "Young Master… that is beyond my knowledge."
Volundr didn't press further. He'd already begun forming conclusions. The Agares clan, known for stability and neutrality, played a critical role in the balance of the current political stage. Their position allowed them to mediate disputes and maintain influence, but it also put them in the dangerous position of being the foundation others leaned upon. If they were to fall, chaos would ripple outward.
He needed to become more than just a noble child. He needed to become the one holding the web together—or the one to remake it.
His parents were not oblivious. The head of the Agares household, Lord Darios Agares, called Volundr into his personal chamber one evening.
"You've been reading quite a lot for a child," the Lord said, observing him with piercing crimson eyes.
Volundr nodded. "I wish to understand the world I live in. What good is a noble title without purpose?"
Darios chuckled, leaning back in his velvet chair. "Most would call that answer precocious. But I see something deeper. Tell me then, Volundr. What is the purpose of a high-class devil?"
"To protect and elevate the House to which they belong, and through it, the Devil race as a whole," Volundr replied smoothly.
There was a pause. Then a slow smile.
"You will sit in on my next strategy meeting with the Bael envoy. Silent. Observant. That will be your first step."
It was a test, of course. And Volundr passed it.
He listened as high-ranking devils discussed border expansions, trade with allied noble families, and the current complications caused by friction with the Fallen Angel factions. Volundr analyzed every gesture, every hesitation in speech, and noted the subtle power play tactics between elder nobles.
He began practicing diplomacy during family events, engaging in polite conversation with young devils his age from other houses. Behind his charming smile and noble mannerisms, he carefully assessed strengths and weaknesses.
Seekvaira, his younger sister, often watched him with curiosity.
"You talk funny," she once said, pouting.
Volundr laughed. "That's because I'm trying to sound smart. One day, you'll talk like this too."
"Nope. I'll talk cooler," she declared with a grin.
Volundr ruffled her hair. "That's the spirit."
His training progressed at an equally demanding pace.
In the mornings, he practiced physical exercises tailored to build a strong foundational physique—push-ups, sprints, agility drills, and flexibility routines. His instructor, a retired warrior from the Agares army, was brutal and unrelenting.
"You'll hate me for this now," the man growled as Volundr's arms trembled in a plank hold, "but you'll thank me when you break bones with a single blow."
In the afternoons, he switched to meditation and magical theory. He sat under the guidance of his mother, Lady Selene Agares, who was known for her rare mastery over space-time magic.
"Focus your aura through your core, then project it in a thin thread beyond your skin," she instructed.
It took him weeks to master the simplest of projections, but once he did, Lady Selene's eyes narrowed.
"Your affinity is unusual. It's almost like your aura is… limitless."
Volundr only smiled.
She observed him for a long moment. "You'll be great one day. Perhaps greater than any Agares before you."
He never forgot those words.
At night, he often stood on the terrace overlooking the dark landscapes of the Underworld. It was beautiful in its own way—cool air, moonlight reflecting off crystal mountains, the flicker of demonic creatures soaring in the distance.
He thought of the world he came from. Of traffic, steel towers, neon signs, and distant dreams. And of Truck-kun.
"What a ridiculous way to die," he muttered. "But what a second chance I've been given."
As his power and awareness grew, so did his resolve. He created a list, written in an enchanted journal only he could read. It was titled Operation Dominion—a roadmap to not just participating in the world of Rating Games, but dominating it.
Each bullet point was a step:
Train until I surpass every noble heir.
Gather the most unique and powerful peerage.
Secretly guide and empower potential allies (Sairaorg, Sona, Rias).
Build a fortress-train ground dimension.
Master political, economic, and strategic systems.
Create independent power base.
Challenge the Devil King System—not to destroy it, but to perfect it.
He underlined that last point three times.
When Volundr turned six, his father brought him to a gathering of noble children hosted by Lord Sitri.
There, he met Sona Sitri for the first time. She was sharp-eyed and curious, already displaying signs of her future intellect.
"You're the Agares heir?" she asked.
"Yes," Volundr replied with a nod. "And you're the Sitri genius everyone talks about."
She smirked. "I like people who do their research."
They played a mock Rating Game scenario, using simplified chess pieces and strategy maps. Most children struggled. Sona and Volundr crushed every pairing, eventually facing each other.
Their match lasted two hours.
In the end, it ended in a draw. They shook hands with mutual respect.
From that day forward, they corresponded in secret letters, sharing tactics, strategies, and observations. An unspoken alliance began to form.
Later that year, Volundr met Sairaorg Bael at a training summit. The boy, born without the Bael Power of Destruction, radiated raw determination. Volundr admired it.
They sparred.
Volundr won through technique, but barely.
"You're strong," Sairaorg said, grinning despite his bruised face. "We should train together."
"We will," Volundr promised. "I'll help you reach the top."
That night, Volundr marked both Sairaorg and Sona with the Limitless Aura, using secret spell marks only he could see. Their growth would now accelerate alongside his own.
He wasn't just building a team—he was building an age of monsters.
In the shadows of the Underworld, change was coming. Not all welcomed it.
Some elders of other houses whispered concerns about the prodigious heir of Agares. They sent spies. Tested his defenses. One even tried to manipulate Seekvaira during a noble event.
Volundr caught on instantly. He confronted the would-be manipulator with calm words and subtle threats.
"If you ever approach my sister again," he said, his voice ice-cold, "I will burn your estate down to the foundation and sell the ashes."
The noble boy paled and ran. Rumors began to swirl—Volundr was not just smart, but dangerous.
Good.
He needed the world to know that he was not to be underestimated.
He was no pawn in someone else's game.
He was the one setting the board.
End of Chapter 4
(Continued in Chapter 5: Will of Fire, Hands of Ice)