Chapter 74: Saints in the Fog
The stillness of Volundr's private study was broken only by the rhythmic sound of his breathing. His sharp eyes were fixed on the arcane scrying pool in front of him, a swirling mass of enchanted water that served as his window to the world beyond.
Through this magical medium, he could observe anything, anyone, from anywhere—no matter the distance. The faint hum of magic resonated in the air as he adjusted the focus of the pool, setting his sights on the Church's operations.
Through the mist of the scrying pool, images began to take shape. He observed first Siegfried, the warrior whose name had already lingered in Volundr's thoughts.
The footage flickered as the scene stabilized. Siegfried stood tall, surrounded by chaos, his demonic swords gleaming with lethal intent. He was engaged in combat with a rogue fallen angel—an adversary whose strength was considerable, but no match for Siegfried's skill.
The fallen angel launched a series of rapid strikes, its wings slashing through the air with the force of a storm. But Siegfried moved with an eerie calm, his stance poised like a hunter preparing to strike.
In one fluid motion, he unleashed a barrage of blades, each cut designed to break his opponent's defense. The demonic swords moved almost of their own accord, as if they were extensions of his very will.
One sword struck the angel's wing, sending it tumbling into the air, while the other cleaved through its armor. Volundr noted the speed and precision of each move.
Siegfried's control was flawless, and his ability to wield multiple weapons at once was unparalleled. A warrior like him would be a powerful asset—perhaps even a force capable of taking down a king.
As the fallen angel crumpled to the ground, defeated, Volundr took a mental note of Siegfried's potential.
There was no doubt he had the strength and skill to be molded into a powerful knight—someone who could lead in battle. But would he be loyal? That remained to be seen.
The image shifted, and the next scene unfolded before Volundr's eyes.
Jeanne.
She was leading a small team of exorcists through a foggy forest, her figure cloaked in the mist. The ethereal fog swirled around her, but Jeanne seemed unaffected, her presence a beacon of clarity in the murky darkness.
She moved with a purpose, the exorcists trailing behind her, ready to follow her lead. As they advanced, Volundr could see her taking charge, issuing commands with confidence. Her team moved like a well-oiled machine, every member aware of their role and executing it with precision.
Then, the attack came. A group of rogue devils, lying in wait, ambushed them from the shadows. The exorcists braced themselves, but it was Jeanne who took immediate control of the situation.
She drew her sword—a weapon that gleamed with an otherworldly light—and with a single fluid motion, she cut down the first enemy that charged. Her blade moved with the precision of a master, yet her strikes were filled with grace, a perfect balance of power and control.
Volundr leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing as he watched her fight. Each movement was calculated, but there was something more to it. There was a fluidity in her style, a grace that made her seem more like a dancer than a warrior.
She didn't simply fight to win; she fought with a purpose, with an understanding of her environment. Her team followed her lead effortlessly, and together, they began to systematically dismantle the enemy.
Jeanne's speed was astonishing, her movements almost too quick to track. But it wasn't just her speed that caught Volundr's attention. It was her swordsmanship. She wielded the blade with the skill of a seasoned warrior, each strike not just an attack, but a statement—swift, decisive, and precise.
There was no wasted movement in her style. Every step, every swing of the blade, was a calculated maneuver designed to maximize her advantage.
As the last of the rogue devils fell, Jeanne stood at the forefront, her sword still gleaming in the fog.
Her team gathered around her, but it was clear that the success of the mission had been due to her leadership. Her tactical instincts were as sharp as her swordsmanship.
Volundr's gaze lingered on the image of her, his thoughts deepening. She was more than just a swordfighter.
She was a strategist, a commander in her own right. The way she moved, the way she led—there was a quality about her that set her apart from most knights.
She wasn't simply a priestess, a figure bound by the rules of faith. She was a knight clothed in purity, her actions driven by a deep sense of justice and duty, not by blind obedience.
"Not a priestess… a knight clothed in purity."
Volundr whispered to himself, his voice almost lost in the quiet hum of the scrying magic. He had been right to take note of her. Jeanne possessed a quiet strength, one that was rare in a world often dominated by power for the sake of power.
There was something uniquely compelling about her—something that made Volundr consider her for a far greater role than just a pawn in his plans.
He turned his attention back to Siegfried. There was no doubt in his mind that this warrior was capable of great things.
But it was Jeanne who stood out in his mind now, her potential shining through like a beacon in the fog.
Volundr sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled before his mouth as he considered the two names that now occupied his thoughts.
Siegfried and Jeanne. Both were powerful, but their paths, their futures, were still unwritten. He had already begun to weave his plans around them, but how they would fit into his world remained to be seen.
For now, Volundr knew one thing for certain: they were both pieces worth watching, and one day, perhaps sooner than he expected, they would find their place in his game.
"Saints in the fog," he muttered, eyes glinting. "One day, their light will shine brighter than they ever imagined."
He leaned back, allowing the scrying pool to fade to stillness. The future was always uncertain, but with each observation, Volundr's understanding grew clearer. It was only a matter of time before these two would come into his orbit.
And when they did, they would be more than just pawns in a game. They would be the foundation of something much greater.