Chapter 32: The Ceremony Begins (Part 2)
The air grew heavy with energy as Volundr stood at the heart of the ancient ritual circle, the black velvet box now resting in his open hands. Arcane sigils glowed beneath his feet, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Ajuka Beelzebub's hands moved with the precision of a master craftsman, weaving centuries-old Devil magic into the air around them.
One by one, the Evil Pieces began to emerge from the velvet folds, lifted by shimmering magic. Each piece—Queen, two Rooks, two Bishops, two Knights, and eight Pawns—hovered above the box, glowing softly in their respective hues. But then, without warning, one piece flared with unnatural brilliance.
A Rook.
Its aura didn't just glow—it pulsed, trembled with raw, untamed energy. The mutated Rook radiated a deep crimson mixed with streaks of gold, creating a whirl of light that resonated with Volundr's Limitless Aura. In that moment, the entire circle shimmered, and a faint shockwave rolled across the hall like a ripple through still water. Most nobles felt nothing—but a few, the most attuned to power, stiffened or widened their eyes.
Ajuka paused. His eyes narrowed, just slightly, his expression unreadable. But he said nothing.
Volundr remained silent, his face composed, but his mind was already racing. That resonance—he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. The connection between his aura and the Rook wasn't just passive; it was responsive. The piece hadn't simply mutated—it had recognized him.
The remaining pieces settled gently back into the box, their glow normal compared to the Rook, which remained faintly lit even after the ritual concluded. No one else noticed, but Volundr did.
He turned and stepped down from the platform. Whispers erupted among the crowd.
"Did you see that Rook?"
"That wasn't just a mutation—it reacted."
"House Agares... what have they done?"
"Was it Ajuka's doing? Or something... else?"
Speculation swirled like smoke. Some blamed bloodline potential, others whispered of forbidden experiments or hidden rituals. But the truth lay quietly in Volundr's hands—and in his memory. Only he knew the full story. The Rook was merely the beginning.
Near the back of the crowd, a tall young Devil with a stern expression watched in silence. Sairaorg Bael. He had yet to inherit the Power of Destruction, but the strength in his eyes was unmistakable. As Volundr passed, Sairaorg gave him a single nod—one warrior to another. There was no rivalry yet, but an understanding had formed. Neither of them had been handed greatness. They would seize it.
Volundr returned the nod with a calm, knowing glance.
The reception that followed was as political as it was celebratory. Tables of fine food and flowing wine filled the hall, while clusters of noble families mingled and whispered beneath the surface of polite smiles. Volundr moved through it all with practiced ease, a phantom among the elite.
He greeted those his family required him to acknowledge, offered a charming smile to those seeking favor, and quietly observed. The young heir of Glasya-Labolas boasted too loudly. A minor noble from Zepar kept glancing nervously at the Maou. An elder of House Sitri seemed unusually interested in the ceremony's magical echoes.
All pieces on the board. Some useful. Some dangerous. All noted.
"Quite the stir you caused," came a voice laced with amusement.
Seekvaira, his younger sister, sidled up beside him in a dark-blue gown that matched her eyes. "They've already given your Rook piece a dozen new nicknames. 'The Shattered Core,' 'The Crimson Root,' 'Ajuka's Puzzle.' You've stolen the spotlight."
Volundr allowed a small smile. "It'll fade."
"Oh, no," she said with a knowing grin. "It's only just begun."
Before he could answer, the crowd began to shift again. A hush fell over the hall—not from fear, but from awe.
Maou Ajuka Beelzebub descended the marble staircase from the observation balcony. He moved with the calm of a man whose intellect dwarfed even the most powerful minds in the room. Conversations stilled as he passed, every noble giving him space as if the very laws of magic demanded it.
Ajuka stopped directly in front of Volundr.
"You carry yourself well," he said, his voice smooth but deep with authority. His gaze briefly flicked to the box in Volundr's hands. "And your Evil Piece set… was particularly interesting to create."
Volundr bowed low, respectful but unshaken. "It is an honor, Maou Beelzebub. I will ensure it's put to proper use."
Ajuka tilted his head, eyes sharp. "I look forward to seeing how far you push the system I made. Just remember—power draws attention. And not all eyes are friendly."
He turned with the grace of a shadow slipping between realities, offering no more and no less than he intended.
Volundr stood motionless, his mind digesting every word.
Ajuka hadn't just acknowledged him—he had marked him.
The pieces were in motion. A mutated Rook. A dangerous aura. A Maou's interest.
As the music resumed and the chatter grew louder, Volundr remained still amid the festivities, the box resting in his hands like a crown not yet worn.
Tonight, the world had acknowledged him as more than a noble's heir.
Tomorrow, he would begin assembling the pieces of a kingdom no one would dare ignore.