Chapter 44: The Young Fox Searching for Treasure in the Royal Palace

“The ladies’ chambers, the bathing room, my own bedroom and study, and the armory of the guards,” Nikola decided swiftly. One had to admit, for all his youth, the prince’s mind was keen indeed.

Yet these were not Vinnigo’s intended targets. He had no designs to spy on the prince’s maids, nor to pilfer private letters and confidential documents, and the standard equipment of the guards held little interest for him. But as a scavenger by nature, nimble and swift, he was adept at slipping into unnoticed corners and unearthing unexpected treasures. This mobile palace, belonging to someone of great importance, surely hid many valuables within its walls…

Even picking up a few trinkets would justify the tedium of playing along with the prince’s games.

Vinnigo darted about with astonishing speed, ducking into room after room before Nikola and Honey could catch up, making a quick circuit before vanishing again. Nikola and Honey gave enthusiastic chase, while Vinnigo scavenged with equal delight.

The reputation of the scavenger’s gift was not exaggerated. In less than half an hour, Vinnigo had collected sixteen gold coins, twenty-five silver, and had glimpsed at least a hundred copper coins—though he was too lazy to stoop for them…

But compared to his other finds, gold seemed trifling.

A jeweled dagger, a high-quality magical gem, two royal round shields, and a royal rapier… Vinnigo only regretted that he couldn’t safely carry them all away. In the end, he kept the smallest items—the dagger and the gem—along with a few magical trinkets. As dusk fell and he noticed Nikola and Honey were weary from play, Vinnigo at last called an end to his treasure hunt.

When the guards were distracted, he drew out the dagger and fixed it with the Eye of Appraisal. Before long, he had unraveled its properties:

Scarab Dagger, an artifact once wielded by magicians as a ritual tool in the Age of Magic. Its bearer gains heightened resistance to curses, hypnosis, and instant-death magics. The dagger possesses purifying power; against the undead or objects steeped in malevolent energy, it deals double destruction and prevents any chance of “resurrection.”

This was a treasure beyond question. Vinnigo wondered how such a thing could have lain forgotten in the palace flowerbeds for so long, but it was his now.

Through his appraisal, Vinnigo glimpsed the profound magical arrays inscribed upon the blade. He couldn’t master them outright, but nothing stopped him from copying them down. As for how he’d do that… he could simply create a persona skilled in precise draftsmanship, such as a cartographer. The cost was higher than he’d expected, but not insurmountable.

With this, Vinnigo accurately reproduced the three magical arrays on the dagger’s surface and the hidden three-dimensional sigil embedded within the blade. He might not be able to use them himself, but he could certainly barter them for something worthwhile…

What if he asked Newton, the kingdom’s enigmatic Chief Mage, to craft a set of custom gear?

As he mused on Sir Newton, a guard’s voice boomed from outside the camp: “The Kingdom’s Chief Mage, Sir Albert Newton, has arrived!”

“Sir, our task is complete. What about the reward you promised?” Vinnigo stepped forward, hand outstretched without pretense.

“And what is it you want, my amusing little fox?” Sir Newton chuckled, adjusting his coronet to keep it from toppling.

“My lord, you are the Chief Mage—surely you won’t disappoint me.” Vinnigo grinned, keeping out his hand. “As it happens, I have an idea. Please, have a look…”

“Girl, Sir Tamp wishes to see you,” Newton said to Sophie. “He thinks highly of you. As the kingdom’s chief sword instructor—though I have little fondness for those who favor muscle over mind—I must admit, he’s the finest mentor the kingdom has.”

“Will you go?” Vinnigo glanced back at Sophie. She hesitated a moment, then nodded.

“Good. Sir Tamp is arriving soon with his Swordsmen’s Corps. As lord of Free Haven, he must account for the attack on the prince. Girl, join him—he will teach you the essentials of swordsmanship. Trust me, my claim that he’s the kingdom’s chief sword instructor is no idle boast.”

Sophie took Newton’s letter of introduction and went to find Sir Tamp. Honey, with nothing better to do, stayed behind to play with Prince Nikola. The great cat lounged beside Honey, as languid as ever, seemingly indifferent to all else.

Perhaps in its eyes, there was only Honey. Strangely enough, though she’d only met the girl twice, the cat—Cait Sith—felt as if this little one was its destined master, worth any sacrifice.

And Vinnigo?

He had little to do, so he clung to Sir Newton. Vinnigo had already guessed that the so-called doddering Chief Mage was, in truth, perhaps the most powerful individual in the kingdom—though among nonhumans, there might be one or two stronger still.

Moreover, the mage seemed approachable enough. Vinnigo’s persistent company didn’t seem to annoy him. Especially when Vinnigo, almost casually, revealed the copied magical arrays from the Scarab Dagger—the old wizard’s eyes gleamed with sudden interest.

Thus, Sir Newton broke precedent and led Vinnigo, an outsider, into his laboratory. Even among his students, only the three most gifted were ever admitted as assistants.

“You’ve earned yourself a favor. What do you have in mind?” Sir Newton, in his laboratory, was every inch the Chief Mage; the muddle and frailty vanished as if they’d never been.

“A pair of shoes, and a left glove,” Vinnigo replied without hesitation. “Just one requirement: they must be able to emit jets of air from the soles and fingertips.”

“That’s too simple,” Sir Newton frowned. “Even an apprentice could manage that.”

“I have two requirements,” Vinnigo countered, wagging his finger. “First, the jets must be powerful enough to propel me in a straight, high-speed dash; second, the force must be exquisitely and flexibly adjustable.”

“What do you intend to use this for?” Sir Newton asked, intrigued.

“To become a high-speed, agile master of the skies,” Vinnigo replied with a soft laugh, sketching a rough diagram with a quill on a scrap of papyrus.

“If it’s flight you want, I can simply bestow a stabilized flight charm,” Newton suggested.

“No need,” Vinnigo explained. “Flight spells are higher level, but they’re less agile and slower. Air jets are mere cantrip-level magic—even enhanced a hundredfold, they wouldn’t consume more energy than a flight spell.”

“Your idea is amusing. As Chief Mage, I offer a permanent flight charm, and you insist on this figment of imagination…” Sir Newton laughed heartily. “You are a fool.”

“A fool I may be, but I know what I’m doing,” Vinnigo replied with a shake of his head.

“Still, I understand your thinking. Creating strong, finely controlled jets of air is no simple task,” mused Newton. “Your little accomplishment alone isn’t sufficient to have an old man labor over such a project.”

“Then is there anything else you’d have me do?” Vinnigo feigned ignorance, handing over the meticulously copied magical arrays. “What about these?”

“Excellent arrays, to be sure, though not exactly novel to me. Only the one guiding mysterious forces is unusual. The other two, I could reproduce with ease,” Newton said with pride.

“Even if you have no use for them yourself, you could reward your students. I doubt they’d scorn such blueprints,” Vinnigo replied with a sly grin.

Sir Newton paused, then nodded. “Very well. It’s a bother, but for me, it’s only an afternoon’s work.”

Soon, Vinnigo received what he desired: a pair of boots and a left-hand glove. Upon donning them, he felt a curious sensation in his mind, as if he could control the magitech set with a mere thought, as if it were an extension of himself.

The inspiration came from Iron Man’s armor. The magic in the boots allowed him to shift seamlessly from hovering to high-speed flight, performing dazzling aerial maneuvers with adjusted jets. The left glove’s output was greater—like an air cannon, it could deliver a battering-ram force at close range.

Of course, firing such a blast required him to simultaneously vent air from his feet in the opposite direction, or risk being thrown by the recoil.

Naturally, Sir Newton’s advanced magic ensured that the jets would not harm Vinnigo himself; the immense force was distributed evenly throughout his body. Otherwise, he’d have shattered his legs and hand the very first time he used the gear.

He named the set “Azure Sky.”

To fly was mankind’s most splendid dream. In the world of magic, it was so much easier to realize.

“It’s done, just as you requested. Now, show me what this thing can do… Come with me,” said Sir Newton. With a snap of his fingers, the two of them appeared on the fourteenth floor of the Mage’s Tower.

Are you ready for your surprise, Vinnigo?