Chapter 46: The Encircled Young Fox

What Venigo needed to do now was to devise several practical maneuvers and commit them to memory. In the heat of the moment, it was far easier to employ prearranged moves than to improvise on the spot. Of course, adapting on the fly was the most flexible tactic, but such an approach posed a great challenge to Venigo’s powers of thought and reflexes—and was, above all, utterly exhausting. Designing finishing moves ahead of time and unleashing them at opportune moments was a far more relaxed method.

It was a pity, however, that the monsters here seemed rather weak. Even without transforming, Venigo could easily wipe out these hapless creatures.

Temp Castle, in the receiving room.

Venigo lounged idly on a somewhat unyielding wooden bench. There was no denying that Sir Temp was a stickler for tradition; his castle was almost devoid of luxury, and all the chairs and stools were crafted from solid wood. Though they looked grand and imposing, they were hardly comfortable to sit on.

“You’re here.” As always, Sophie was laconic. Still clad in her light armor and carrying her greatsword on her back, she pushed open the door and sat beside Venigo without ceremony.

“And me, and me!” Little Hani scampered over.

“Hani.” Sophie nodded gently, reaching out to caress the girl’s soft hair with affection.

“What did Sir Temp teach you?” Venigo asked with enthusiasm. “Did you learn any amazing sword techniques?”

“Sir Temp is indeed the best teacher. He didn’t teach me any advanced swordplay, but he improved my current skills and gave me a deeper understanding of swordsmanship.” For once, Sophie spoke at length, her voice thoughtful.

“That suits you best, doesn’t it? After all, he specializes in the ordinary longsword, right?” Venigo inquired.

“No, that knight is proficient with all weapons. It’s a gift.” Sophie replied. “He’s said it himself: in terms of combat strength, he’s not the strongest, simply because he’s too versatile.”

“Just like me…” Venigo declared shamelessly.

Sophie said nothing more, only casting a glare in Venigo’s direction.

“What’s our mission?” Venigo asked.

“The prince’s assailants. Eliminate them,” Sophie replied.

“Any leads?”

“Lady Fris’s intelligence network is already in motion,” Sophie answered.

Lady Fris was one of the eight great nobles of the High Council, and the kingdom’s finest high priestess. Curiously, though she ought to have belonged to the ascetic monastic tradition, Lady Fris was the realm’s most exceptional merchant, controlling the largest waterway network in the kingdom and, incidentally, developing a formidable intelligence system through her business dealings.

“With that lady involved… heh heh.” Venigo gave a dry chuckle, glancing around.

“Speaking of which, I haven’t made a wish today.” Making sure no one was around, Venigo thought to himself as he fished a magical gemstone from his pocket and closed his eyes in meditation.

All praise be to you, exalted and mighty, who answers the prayers of your faithful. I pray: purify this gemstone.

At that moment, Sir Temp strode in. Upon entering, he immediately spotted the gleaming magical gem in Venigo’s hand and paused, somewhat taken aback.

“So you’re Sophie’s companion? Strange.” Clearly, Sir Temp was puzzled as to why someone as apparently feeble as Venigo was the chosen teammate of a talented young force like Sophie.

“That’s me.” Venigo calmly pocketed the gemstone and rose to his feet in greeting.

The Lord of Wishes had been generous this time. The magical gem in Venigo’s hand was already large and pure, but its brilliance had now been elevated to another level.

At the very least, he could trade this gem to Sir Newton for something valuable... Venigo was already considering whether he should procure even finer armor and weaponry for Sophie.

“Sir, your orders,” Venigo said, spreading his hands in a gesture that, rough though it was, did not offend Sir Temp. Though one of the High Council’s eight giants, Sir Temp was at heart a swordsman rather than a nobleman.

“Lady Fris’s agents have returned with news. They’ve found the hideout of the criminals who attacked His Highness. The foes are so weak I can’t be bothered to intervene. Besides, this is a critical moment in dealing with the aberrations—I have no intention of wasting my strength on these small fry. Do you understand?” Sir Temp said.

“What’s the enemy’s situation?” Sophie asked.

“Roughly twenty small fry, including spellcasters and swordsmen, apparently high-ranking members of the Bleating Lamb cult. According to Lady Fris’s agents, they show clear signs of being altered. We also suspect the cult is involved with the aberrations. Since the disturbance began, their power has grown markedly,” Sir Temp explained.

Venigo smiled inwardly. He knew that behind the Bleating Lamb cult lurked extraterrestrial influences. Evidently, those alien beings and the Eschaton that had triggered the aberrations had, by some means, reached a fragile understanding—a tenuous alliance.

“Sir, you won’t be sending reinforcements, will you?” Venigo said with a light chuckle. “I’m flattered by your confidence in us. If nothing else, you’ll get to see for yourself the abilities of the one you so admire…”

He gestured to Sophie, who stood nearby, eager for action, and said leisurely, “The strength befitting a companion she recognizes.”

Sir Temp’s brow furrowed as he muttered, “Are you sure? I’d expected her companions to be formidable warriors, but seeing you and this child…”

He indicated the innocent Hani and the large cat, “It’s rather different from what I’d imagined.”

“My lord, I mean no disrespect to your judgment. But I hope this mission will allay some of your doubts.” Venigo stepped back half a pace and offered a slight bow. “Words are meaningless; we’ll let our deeds speak for us.”

Sir Temp regarded Venigo’s wooden expression for a long moment before breaking into a smile. “That’s the spirit I like.”

“As you wish. Please provide us with the necessary intelligence and logistical support.”

“Of course. I’ll have Lady Fris’s agents copy all relevant information for you. As for supplies, you may take anything from my armory worth up to a hundred gold coins.”

“Understood.”

Their operation was set for nightfall. Venigo and Sophie, with Hani and their pets in tow, made their way at a leisurely pace toward a valley on the outskirts beyond Free Heaven.

To call it a valley was rather generous; the little hill was scarcely five stories tall, like an overturned, battered bowl—hardly awe-inspiring. Yet the expanse enclosed by these modest hills was surprisingly vast, making the valley’s breadth seem disproportionate to the heights surrounding it.

“The target is here.” Sophie brushed back her hair and spoke softly. “What’s the plan?”

“Let me see.” Venigo once more pulled out the intelligence copy provided by Sir Temp and studied it.

He’d reviewed it before arriving. Now, surveying the terrain and linking it to the information, new ideas began to form in his mind.

All that remained was to organize these thoughts into a workable plan.

The intelligence wasn’t particularly detailed, so there was no need for elaborate scheming. Ultimately, it would come down to adaptability. After half an hour’s reflection, Venigo lifted his head and smiled at Sophie and Hani.

“Are you ready, friends?” he said softly.

Sophie said nothing, only unsheathing her greatsword and setting it upright before her.

Hani nodded eagerly, excitement shining in her eyes. Her large cat, Cait Sith, crouched silently, head slightly cocked, gazing at Venigo.

“The plan is as follows… If this happens, we’ll switch to contingency A. I estimate… if things go that way, we’ll abandon A and use plan B. In all likelihood, we won’t need either contingency A or B.” Venigo explained quietly.

“Mm-hmm, Hani understands,” little Hani nodded quickly.

“Understood,” Sophie nodded, resting her sword on her shoulder.

Venigo turned to the big cat with a mischievous grin. “With your intellect, perhaps you’ll get it. Do you need me to explain in detail?”

“Don’t underestimate me, you bastard!” Cait Sith growled in a low voice.

“All right, I’ll go first. Big cat, protect Hani as you follow. Sophie, cover our rear,” Venigo said softly.

Was this a joke? Three people and a cat, about to encircle more than twenty enemies—each the equivalent of the kingdom’s elite forces?

But clearly, neither Sophie nor Hani objected.

Venigo nodded. A gust of wind flashed beneath his feet, his body accelerating from a standstill to a blinding speed in an instant as he darted up the hillside.

In a brief moment, he generated repeated bursts of wind at the same spot, producing extraordinary acceleration—the unique magic of the Azure Sky, which distributed the air’s reactive force evenly across his body, made this possible.

This move was called “Shave.” That’s right, Shave—but while the original relied on superhuman physical strength, Venigo’s version was rooted in profound magical theory.

Different paths, same destination.

In the blink of an eye, Venigo appeared atop the hill, gazing down from less than twenty meters high at the enemy’s temporary encampment.

They were not many, but there were plenty of sentries—nearly a third of them awake. The remaining two-thirds lay sleeping in their clothes, weapons and packs within arm’s reach. Judging by their sleeping postures, they could awaken at any moment.

Clearly, these were no ordinary foes.