Chapter 50: Threads in the Shadows
The dim light of dusk filtered through stained glass, painting the halls of the Agares estate in blood-red and gold. Volundr sat alone in his study—once a modest chamber, now transformed into the heart of his operations.
Papers lay in neat piles. Charts unfurled across walls. Magical threads—gold, silver, crimson, and black—connected names and sigils like a living web. This was his War Room.
He stepped forward, adjusting a pin beneath the name House Glasya-Labolas. A thin red thread extended from it, branching toward three other houses.
"Allies with the Old Satan faction," Volundr muttered. "Traditionalists, reactionary, but fractured. Useful—if only to predict their future mistakes."
Another chart tracked Sacred Gear users—confirmed and rumored. He had a section dedicated to potential anomalies in bloodlines, where talents appeared despite diluted heritages. A list of unclaimed power.
With a flick of his hand, magical glyphs glowed to life across the walls.
Tasking His Agents
Behind him, the soft sound of a bootstep.
"You called, my King?"
Seraphina, the shadow-like informant he'd cultivated, emerged from the dark. Her raven-black hair shimmered faintly, cloaking her like smoke.
"Seraphina. I want a report on House Belial's younger heir. They've been too quiet since the last meeting. Check for political movements, hidden alliances, anything suggesting Old Satan ties."
"Understood. And the more delicate matters?" she asked, voice low.
"Have Caelum focus on the wandering mercenaries near Dis. I suspect at least two Sacred Gear users are among them. If he finds one, I want names and abilities. Quietly."
Seraphina bowed. "The webs will grow." Then she vanished.
Volundr turned back to his map. "Yes… They will."
A Visit from Seekvaira
Later that day, the estate gates opened for a familiar carriage. Seekvaira Agares, clad in her elegant noble dress, stepped out with grace only a highborn could wield—but the moment she entered the study, her poise gave way to curiosity.
She blinked at the walls.
"Is this a war council… or a conspiracy?"
Volundr smirked. "Why not both?"
She moved closer, studying the connections. Her eyes lingered on a thread linking House Phenex to two minor families. "You already spotted that marriage alliance? I thought only Father knew."
"I listen. I watch. I let them speak without realizing what they're giving away."
Seekvaira settled onto a velvet chair, taking the tea offered by a servant. She sipped delicately.
"You're ahead of the game. But power that rises too quickly draws daggers."
Volundr nodded. "That's why I build in shadow. Influence before noise. Leverage before light."
She raised a brow. "Ambitious. But even chess has rules."
"And this board bleeds."
Seekvaira set her cup down gently.
"Politics is like chess," she said, her tone turning sharp. "But here, pawns can bite. Some bite hard."
Volundr leaned forward. "Tell me about the last major betrayal in the noble houses. The one we don't speak of."
Seekvaira studied him a moment—then spoke.
"The betrayal of House Flauros. They sold information to the Old Satan faction in exchange for an attempted bloodline purge. The Devils they betrayed? Their own cousins. We silenced the scandal—but it set a precedent. Blood means less than ambition."
A heavy silence followed.
Volundr etched the name Flauros onto the board with ink.
"Lesson noted."
Seekvaira stood, brushing her skirt.
"You're becoming something dangerous, brother. That pleases me. But don't forget—subtlety is the deadliest weapon in a Devil's arsenal."
Closing Scene – Alone in the Dark
Night fell.
The estate was quiet, save for the soft scratching of a quill.
Volundr sat by candlelight, writing in his journal. His eyes flicked between parchment and map. A dozen names circled. A dozen plans forming.
He muttered aloud, almost prayer-like:
"In this world, strength may protect…"
He paused, gazing at a golden thread stretching from his name to Valerie, to Kuroka, and now—tentatively—to Caelum.
"…but knowledge guides the blade."
His eyes gleamed.
"I'll master both."
He dipped his quill again.
"And I'll win."
The candle flickered. Shadows danced. And the web grew ever tighter.