Chapter 6: Awakening the Flame
The morning air in the Agares estate was unusually crisp, as if even the atmosphere recognized that something had changed. The sun filtered through the towering glass windows, gilding the marble floors in warm golden hues.
Volundr Agares stood barefoot in the training courtyard, his breaths slow and measured, his eyes closed in deep meditation.
He had turned six only a few days ago. While that meant little to most children, for Volundr, it marked the beginning of an awakening that had been building quietly within him. Ever since his memories had returned a year prior, he had begun to notice strange phenomena: energy that clung to people around him after they trained with him, a warm pulse that radiated from his core when he focused on growth.
At first, he dismissed it as part of his devil heritage or residual effects of his reincarnation. But now, it was undeniable.
The Limitless Aura had begun to stir.
He had no flashy visions or dramatic outbursts. Instead, it started with his maid, Lirien.
She was a kind-hearted devil in her early twenties, assigned to care for him since infancy. Two weeks ago, he had playfully invited her to join him in a morning stretching session. It was meant as nothing more than a bonding exercise, but within days, she began noticing improvements—faster reflexes, sharper magical focus, even minor muscle gains despite her usual light duties.
It was a controlled anomaly, and Volundr immediately took note.
That night, he waited until everyone in the estate had gone to sleep. He snuck into the servants' library and began scouring old tomes for anything on passive magical enhancement fields.
While there were references to enchantments and bounded fields, none described what he was witnessing. This was personal, instinctive, and entirely internal.
He remembered then—Limitless Aura.
His request to the God of Reincarnation had finally begun to manifest.
Unlike traditional auras or enchantments, this was something deeper. It wasn't about buffing allies in battle or granting temporary strength.
It was about growth. As long as he marked someone, they would continue to grow stronger through their own efforts, their potential no longer bound by natural limits. There was no range limitation—only the bond mattered.
Volundr had tested the first mark the next morning. He placed his hand gently on Lirien's shoulder and focused. A glowing pattern, barely visible to the naked eye, had shimmered beneath his palm—an arcane symbol rooted in a language he couldn't name but instinctively understood.
She had no idea what had occurred, only smiling at his gentle touch.
From then on, her progress doubled.
He did the same with his butler, Claudius, a stoic veteran who once served his grandfather.
Though long past his prime, Claudius's old skills returned with surprising clarity. His sword arm steadied. His mana reserves deepened. He began taking evening sparring sessions again, much to the surprise of the estate guards.
Volundr said nothing. He simply watched, observed, and took notes.
Now, standing in the courtyard, Volundr focused inward, meditating with slow breaths. He could feel the aura more clearly now.
It hummed beneath his skin, like a silent storm waiting to be directed. He could feel Lirien and Claudius in the back of his mind, as if their growth had left a thread tethered to him.
His eyes opened slowly, the silver irises shimmering with faint ethereal light.
"I am the seed of kings," he whispered. "And this is the beginning."
His morning training began, but this time, it was different.
He moved not just with purpose, but with presence. Every motion was executed as though it carried the weight of destiny. His wooden spear danced in the morning sun, slashing the air with controlled precision. It was a dance of discipline, not destruction.
Seekvaira peeked around the corner, her hair tied in twin tails, her eyes curious.
"You're doing that again," she said, approaching with light steps.
"I always do this," Volundr replied, pausing to offer her a smile. "You're just noticing now."
"You've been... different lately." She squinted at him. "Stronger."
Volundr chuckled. "Maybe you're the one getting sharper."
She frowned, not liking riddles, and pointed to the wooden spear. "Teach me?"
He blinked. That was new.
"You want to train?"
"I want to be strong. Like you." Her expression was firm, mature beyond her years.
He gave a slow nod. "Alright. But it'll be hard."
"I don't care."
That evening, Volundr marked his sister.
The following weeks became a whirlwind of growth.
Seekvaira, who had previously avoided physical exertion in favor of literature and etiquette, threw herself into training. Volundr designed sessions that built both discipline and resilience.
It wasn't just sword swings or spear drills—it was balance training, elemental magic meditation, and mental focus exercises.
The effects were staggering.
Volundr kept his findings to himself, recording every measurable difference. He refined how he marked people, learning that intent and emotional connection made the bond stronger. The more he believed in someone's potential, the faster the Aura worked.
He read everything he could on training regimens and optimization. From ancient devil knight manuals to human martial arts philosophies, he fused the best practices into something new.
Something powerful.
By mid-winter, even Claudius had begun asking Volundr for sparring advice.
"Your spear form has become... unorthodox," the old butler commented after one session. "But terrifyingly efficient."
"It's evolving," Volundr said simply.
He was evolving.
He also began observing Sairaorg Bael from a distance. The boy was only a few years older, but his presence already drew whispers. The son of a disgraced family, born without demonic power—but filled with unwavering will.
Volundr admired him.
One day, during a public gathering of noble families, Volundr found himself near Sairaorg.
The older boy was training in the garden behind the event hall, punching a training post until his knuckles bled.
Volundr approached slowly, unnoticed, and placed a hand briefly on a nearby tree.
The Aura extended.
The mark was planted.
He said nothing. He simply walked away.
Volundr's room became a miniature war chamber. Maps. Charts. Training data. Political webs.
He had even created a "growth ledger" for those he had marked, charting their increase in power, speed, control, and will.
He began to see Limitless Aura not as a blessing—but as a system. A kingdom could be built around it. A revolution seeded by it.
He stared at his reflection one evening, eyes glowing faintly with power.
"I will reshape this world," he whispered. "One bond at a time."
He sat for hours each night refining his techniques, pushing his physical limits, and experimenting with new methods of combat. He sparred against illusions he conjured, tracking his progress not just physically, but mentally.
How fast could he read intent? How well could he predict a strike? He didn't just want to grow strong—he wanted to become a master.
Sometimes, Lirien would bring tea late at night and find him drenched in sweat, muttering strategy lines and magical calculations to himself.
Claudius began referring to him as "Young General" in private, watching in amazement as the child outmaneuvered seasoned devil knights in friendly matches of chess and tactics.
Even Seekvaira, who once treated training as a novelty, now came to him for guidance, recognizing his emerging brilliance.
In the shadows of noble courts, whispers began to circulate. The heir of House Agares was no mere prodigy. He was something new. Something destined.
And deep in the silent chambers of the Agares estate, the spark of revolution became a roaring flame.
End of Chapter 6