Chapter 4: The Fortunate Young Fox

Venigo struck down with his claw, but the gravely wounded Lambsong cultist still clung to life. Venigo had expected as much and immediately followed with a Shockwave.

Skill: Shockwave—the electric attack unerringly strikes any target within sight. Though its power is modest, its certainty of hitting more than compensates for it—of course, under the rules of this new world, an enemy might resist the current and nullify its effects.

It was a clean combo; the high-ranking cultist collapsed instantly.

Venigo leapt aside before he even touched the ground, when a chill of frost and a jolt of lightning struck him. Yet Venigo’s unique trait was to weaken the effectiveness of enemy skills against him—a compensation, perhaps, for being unable to learn the combat techniques of this world.

Still, for the blood-deprived cat, even such blows were hard to endure. Venigo staggered, but quickly thrust out his paw and launched another Shockwave.

The high-level cultist only paused for a moment before pouncing again, staff descending toward Venigo’s head. Venigo let out a sharp cry and punched upwards.

Skill: Death’s Door! A desperate technique, growing more powerful the closer the user is to death. Even though Venigo’s offensive capability was not high, this blow still packed a punch.

His foe was sent flying. Venigo had not even landed before he saw the last cultist charging at him.

Venigo sighed.

He had never forgotten that there were four “companions” nearby, ready to come to his aid at any moment. But perhaps, in a situation like this, their help was not yet necessary…

A final gamble! Death’s Door!

Venigo’s fist struck the enemy’s face, while the staff swung at him merely grazed his side and fell harmlessly. Thus, Venigo emerged victorious…

Dizzy, he quickly gathered up his spoils before the lingering effects of the mercury faded, and stood firm.

Character reset, reconfiguration commencing…

Everything went black for a moment, and when his vision cleared, Venigo found himself human once more. He removed the fake gold coin tied to his brow and tossed his loot onto the ground.

A plain, non-magical ring—worth a few silver coins—a low-grade, unused spell scroll, and a gemstone.

“Lord Jemore, would you give me some more mercury?” Venigo handed over the spoils with a practiced, earnest expression.

“All right.” Jemore knew well the price of mercury, but seeing Yarrow’s eager look, he handed Venigo the entire vial.

Venigo had not expected to receive the whole bottle so easily. Gritting his teeth, he drew from his pocket a Flight spell scroll.

“What’s this…” Yarrow blinked and darted over, snatching the scroll from his hand.

“A Flight spell! Where did you get it?” the witch demanded seriously.

“The boss couldn’t identify it and tossed it in the storeroom. I found it when I was cleaning up, so I took it,” Venigo lied without a hint of shame. “Consider it a return gift.”

“We won’t take your other things, but this scroll is something we urgently need. We were about to hire a Windcaller for it, but this saves us the expense,” Yarrow replied with a light laugh. “Now the mission is within our grasp.”

“If it’s a Flight scroll, a bottle of mercury hardly seems an adequate gift,” Jemore said, rummaging through his pack for something else.

“Mr. Jemore, there’s no need,” Venigo waved him off. “I don’t need anything for now… If you could, though, I’d like the chance to practice my transformation skills.”

“Well, all right then,” Jemore agreed after a moment’s thought. “Once we reach Ironfist Fortress, I’ll find you something useful.”

“Thank you very much,” Venigo replied, smiling adorably. What a sly, ingratiating fellow!

Venigo stood there, when suddenly Yarrow hugged him from behind and pinched his cheeks, exclaiming, “Transform again! Hurry, do it again!”

“Miss Yarrow, it’s not a parlor trick,” Venigo protested. “It’s quite exhausting, and mercury is expensive.”

He wasn’t telling the truth—transformation didn’t affect him much. As long as he had enough mercury and could muster the magical energy required at the moment of transformation, Venigo could keep changing forms endlessly.

The real reason for his refusal was that he needed time to digest.

To absorb the experience—whether soul, or some other essence, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that after taking down three high-level cultists, Venigo could clearly sense he had gained something, a chance to ascend to a higher level of strength.

Let’s call it experience points.

And Venigo’s strength—let’s call it his level—determined what forms he could assume.

He already knew which form to choose next.

First, he needed a productive skill. Without sufficient resources, he couldn’t procure enough mercury, and without mercury, he couldn’t transform at all.

This was the greatest obstacle to his further evolution.

But speaking of mercury… An alchemist seemed an excellent choice.

Role selected, analysis complete… reconfiguration commencing.

Alchemist, complete.

Venigo chose the Alchemist, one of the starting classes in Legends of Heroes Across Time III. At his current level, it was the most suitable.

A novice Alchemist came with the skills: Basic Alchemy, Use Item, and Mana Up. The last two were largely irrelevant under this world’s rules, but Basic Alchemy was an extraordinary ability that allowed him to extract magical materials from physical objects.

The purification efficiency of Basic Alchemy was quite low, but the ability was better than nothing.

Costuming an alchemist was easy—a robe and a flask (the mercury vial Jemore gave him would suffice).

Time is money, and Venigo knew it well. He quickly took out the white shale he had prepared and arranged it before him.

Skill: Basic Alchemy, activate!

A piece of white shale instantly turned dark gray, and a small bead of mercury appeared at Venigo’s fingertip.

Venigo frowned. Not cost-effective.

Using skills accelerated his mercury consumption, and counting the mercury used to transform into an alchemist, the yield was hardly worth mentioning. Nevertheless, he purified all the rocks with his skill.

It seemed that repeatedly transforming into the same role helped him master its abilities and traits more thoroughly.

For Venigo, the performance of his roles, the stats of his equipment, and the detailed data of monsters determined what he could achieve. Venigo the Poacher had never relied on quick reflexes, but on his meticulous attention to data.

After a night’s labor, the mercury in his possession had increased only by a few drops.

“Perhaps I need to find ores rich in mercury. But I can’t quite recall which ones are the best sources.” Venigo mused, dissolving his transformation.

He took out a sheet of paper and recorded the purification data for each kind of white shale.

From this, Venigo could deduce which quality of shale was likeliest to yield more mercury, and which produced mercury of superior quantity and purity.

This result would determine his earnings for quite some time.

“Wow, is it dawn already?” Venigo suddenly looked up at the sky.

The sun was just rising above the clouds, casting golden rays across the land—there would be no more sleep for him.

Venigo smiled ruefully, corked his mercury vial, tucked it carefully into his pack, and wrapped it securely in his clothes.

He kept a small lump of mercury, wrapped in oiled paper and affixed to his finger with a sliver of copper.

Then he began gathering firewood and heating water, preparing breakfast for the five of them.

Breakfast was baked apple cakes with dried meat and Venigo’s own sauce. The aroma soon roused Yarrow from her slumber.

“Good morning, Sister Yarrow,” Venigo greeted her with a smile.

As he spoke, he caught sight of Vilanie, already awake and standing atop a nearby tree, scanning the distance.

“Something’s wrong,” the usually reticent archer said suddenly. “It’s too quiet.”

Indeed, it was. No birdsong, no rustling of small creatures.

A fireball soared in from afar, then a barrage of flames, frost, and even stones rained down upon them.

Murak, shield in hand, stepped forward to the front of the group, taking the fireball head-on. Flames exploded, sweeping past in a roaring wave, igniting the grass and brush.

Venigo instantly shifted into his cat form and leapt clear of the blast. He knew well that only the elders of the Lambsong Cult around New Sopik possessed fireball magic, and their fireballs were not especially powerful nor wide in blast radius.

Venigo knew exactly how far to leap to evade it.

Jemore intoned a prayer, healing Murak’s wounds with a minor spell. Vilanie drew her bow and began picking off the distant cultists.

Venigo stood ready, eyes narrowed. He waited for his chance—if Vilanie’s arrow failed to finish an enemy, he would immediately follow up with a Shockwave.

Shockwave—an electric skill that never misses any target in sight. Though it lacked in power, and the cat’s magic attack was weak, it sufficed for finishing blows.

In this battle, Venigo was certain he would make a breakthrough!