Chapter 20: The Young Fox of the Eccentric Scholar

The wound on the Minotaur King was still healing at a speed visible to the naked eye. Yet this regeneration could no longer conceal the fact that life had already left him. Venigo sighed softly, resetting his role and reverting to human form.

Draped in his cloak, he walked slowly to the corpse of the Minotaur King, glancing around. The Sun Cultists were still running about in panic under Honey’s mass fear spell. Occasionally, an enemy regained their senses, but none could get past Sophie’s greatsword—even though she was severely wounded, her stamina nearly spent, she still gripped her sword firmly, a mountain standing before Venigo.

To protect… the knight’s true duty.

“You really ought to be a knight,” Venigo remarked with a quiet laugh.

With the role construct lifted, what could Venigo do? He couldn’t fight, but there were other tasks at hand.

He crouched, ignoring the battle between Sophie and the remaining rabble, and focused intently as he sliced into the Minotaur King’s corpse with his pirate dagger. The muscles were unusually tough, but under the sharp blade, they yielded bit by bit.

Such strong regenerative abilities—how intriguing. Venigo took out an empty vial, filled it with the Minotaur King’s heart blood, then cut off a few pieces of heart muscle and some hide, stuffing them into his magical pouch.

Estimating that the time was right, Venigo constructed his role once more—this time, as the Scholar of the Strange.

He was already dressed in robes and holding a bottle of reagents, so no costume change was needed. After assuming the role, his first act was to use Purification Alchemy on the Minotaur King’s corpse, whose magic had yet to dissipate.

Purification Alchemy could extract the crystalline essence from any object infused with magic or other mysterious forces. Its efficiency and potency far surpassed basic alchemy.

The Minotaur King’s body was imbued with the mysterious power bestowed by the Sun Temple’s rituals. Venigo ignored the chaos around him, pouring his full attention into the Purification Alchemy.

Soon, the Minotaur King’s corpse was reduced to a pile of gray-black residue. Only then did Venigo step back, raising his eyes to survey his surroundings.

He sneered, placing his hand on the reagent bottle, whispering softly.

The Scholar of the Strange was one of Tao’s two hidden professions, inclined toward darkness. He possessed offensive skills as well, such as…

Fusion Blast!

It was not a nuclear bomb, but an explosion akin to a violent chemical reaction, inflicting both extreme heat and physical shock. Unlike traditional chemical reactions, the Scholar of the Strange’s power lay in triggering explosions not with pre-made bombs, but using the enemy themselves or their environment—even if neither was combustible.

In the explosion, Sophie’s greatsword swept boldly through the flames, slashing horizontally! With the force of a single blow, nearly half of the Sun Temple’s forces were felled, and the remainder lost all will to fight.

It was a battle doomed to defeat. In the hearts of the Sun Cultists and mercenaries alike, the same thought arose.

“Honey, the Sun Cloak—go fetch it,” Venigo prompted.

“Is that alright?” Honey blinked and asked.

“It’s fine, go ahead,” Venigo replied with a gentle smile.

Honey skipped over to the Sun Priest, snatched his cloak, and draped it over her shoulders. Yet, her petite frame made the cloak, so fitting on the priest, look like an entire bedsheet, enveloping her completely.

The Sun Priest was not seriously wounded, but he did not resist fiercely, only staring at Venigo with a strange look.

“You… can purify the power of the sun!” the priest rasped. “That, what is that? Are you… a chosen one?”

“No,” Venigo shook his head, “it’s just alchemy—Purification Alchemy, extracting power from any object.”

“Who are you? What are you?” The Sun Priest stared at Venigo. “Ah, the little girl—you two are the ones who came here with Iron Fist Castle’s message… but aren’t you a swordsman?”

“I am versatile,” Venigo smiled faintly. “This isn’t Iron Fist Castle’s stance, merely our own will—I will not tolerate anyone slaughtering humans for the sake of feeding monsters. Did you think hiring these mercenaries to capture live humans for the Minotaur King could be kept secret?”

“Kept secret? There’s no need.” The Sun Priest shook his head. “Once the Minotaur King endures the power bestowed by the glorious sunlight, he will become the Sun Temple’s most faithful demon-slaying blade! Then the Moon Temple, the Sea God Temple, the Divine Fist Temple… every cult in Butgrey Bay will be eclipsed by the Sun Temple alone!”

“And at that point, you’d no longer fear the hostility of the whole town?” Venigo sneered. “Or do you trust the Holy Grail enough to quell everyone’s discontent?”

The priest’s face instantly turned white as paper.

The Holy Grail? How did he know the Grail was in his possession? This youth knew?

Yes, the Grail—without it, why would Venigo have risked fighting a monster like the Minotaur King in the Sun Temple? There was nothing else of value here.

The Holy Grail, the treasure sought by Sir Anthony Stone of White Hat Town—the kingdom’s greatest priest, who wished to rebuild the Temple of Free Heaven and strengthen its faith.

“What use does the Holy Grail truly serve?” Venigo murmured. “Is it only Sir Anthony Stone who can wield it?”

“You know of the Grail… you know Anthony Stone is searching for it…” the Sun Priest muttered.

“Yes, I know. With the Grail, that esteemed gentleman would gladly help my little sister strengthen her abilities, perhaps giving her the chance to become a true High Priestess.”

“No! I cannot… I cannot lose to the likes of you!” the Sun Priest cried out.

“Indeed. But don’t forget, there is also a formidable bounty hunter here.” Venigo pointed to the girl beside him—the impassive bounty hunter Sophie, her greatsword propped on her shoulder.

“Die!” the Sun Priest suddenly thrust out his hand, releasing the power he had been gathering for so long in an instant.

As mighty as a dragon’s breath, it was a sun miracle usable only outdoors in daylight: Focused Solar Sphere.

Its power could melt even the finest armor.

Yet Venigo, as if expecting this, stepped forward and flicked his wrist.

A powder burst from the bottle in his hand, landing on the Sun Priest’s face. A strong gray smoke rushed into his nose. The priest’s spell faltered immediately, his hand jerking back and incinerating his own bishop.

Mandrake powder—an alchemical weapon of “Enchantment.” When it strikes an opponent, it causes them to mistake friend for foe, leading them to attack allies and heal or aid their enemies.

Although the effect would soon wear off and the priest would recover, the advantage gained by Venigo in that moment was far greater than what even a powerful Fusion Blast could achieve.

This was the true art of the alchemist.

“I advise you, Priest, to yield,” Venigo smiled, reaching out to grip his throat.

Venigo was not strong, but evidently, the Sun Priest was weaker still. Held by the throat, he could not breathe, struggled, but could not break free.

The Sun Cultists behind him did not move—not out of unwillingness, but because Sophie’s greatsword barred their way, making it clear the battle was lost.

“The Grail is in the Minotaur King’s chamber,” Venigo said quietly. “Give it to me, and I’ll spare you.”

The Sun Priest hesitated a moment, then finally agreed.

The Grail—the Minotaur King was gone, and the Grail could no longer sustain his ambition. So let him have it, in exchange for his own life.

Venigo accepted the Holy Grail, tossing the plain, even somewhat antique-looking object in his hand.

“Aren’t you worried it’s a fake?” the Sun Priest finally couldn’t resist asking.

“No, there’s no need,” Venigo replied, shaking his head lightly. “Holding it, one can feel…”

For now, Venigo existed as “Tao the Scholar of the Strange,” and as a master alchemist, he could sense the extraordinary power hidden within the Grail.

It was faint, but present—a divine power of extremely high priority, yet unusable by ordinary means.

“Purification Alchemy.” Unable to restrain himself, Venigo used Purification Alchemy on the Grail. A strange white light flickered on its surface, but in the end, nothing was extracted.

“As expected, even Purification Alchemy cannot forcibly draw out such divine power,” Venigo nodded, casually tossing the Grail to Honey.

Honey tilted her head, puzzled. But as a priestess, she could sense the energy within the Grail—a force that brought her mind and body peace.

“To White Hat Town,” Venigo waved lightly. “Sophie—will you join us?”

Sophie shook her head and spoke softly, “My target is the Thief Prince.”

Venigo was about to take his leave, but at this title, he paused.

“The Thief Prince… the big rat of Free Heaven, ruler of all thieves and burglars in that realm, that scoundrel?” Venigo chuckled, “Then let’s go together. Sir Anthony Stone would like to catch him as well.”

Sophie, will you accept my invitation… Venigo smiled, waiting for the girl’s reply.