Chapter 52: The Young Fox Who Set the Fire

Chapter Fifty-Two: The Young Fox Who Set the Blaze

Venigo chuckled softly and snapped his fingers.

Ramen!

Ramen shook his big, honest-looking head and nudged Venigo. There was no doubt that, with the strength of a juvenile leviathan, such a gentle nudge was enough to send Venigo tumbling twice and a half through the air before landing. Venigo awkwardly adjusted his trajectory, using multiple jets of air from his left hand and both feet to steady himself again.

“You idiot, how many times have I told you not to bump me?” Venigo shouted.

Grumbling, he unfastened his backpack from Ramen’s back, retrieved a leather pouch from a side pocket, and slung it over his shoulder.

“Go to the ship and bring me my number three backpack,” he ordered, patting Ramen’s head.

Ramen was quite clever and could understand Venigo’s instructions. He nuzzled Venigo one more time before turning and swimming toward the large ship.

—Swimming through the air.

Venigo reached into his pouch and pulled out two spheres, one large and one small. He had always made a habit of being thoroughly prepared in advance, ready to face any scenario that might arise: a powerful individual enemy, a swarm of lesser foes, flying opponents, or situations requiring negotiation…

These two spheres were designed for dealing with “large-scale enemies.” Of course, they could also be used to start a fire.

A wildfire.

The two spheres fell in quick succession. With a soft pop, the larger one burst open first, releasing a brownish oil mist that spread over half a kilometer in the blink of an eye. The second sphere immediately followed, crashing to the ground with a flash of red—

Boom!

The thunderous roar almost sent Venigo, still in midair, plummeting to the ground. As for the grove directly struck…

It was already a sea of flames.

The large sphere contained highly refined alchemical fuel, and at its core was a simple wind sigil, designed to disperse the fuel as a mist and ensure it spread as far as possible in the shortest time.

Once the oil mist was thoroughly distributed, the second sphere’s magic activated and ignited it, instantly causing a flash explosion that consumed all the oxygen in the area.

The flames themselves weren’t exceptionally hot; to cover such a wide area, the fuel had to be spread thinly and couldn’t generate extreme temperatures. But igniting an entire forest posed no difficulty at all.

In no time, the forest near the shipping lane became a blazing inferno.

Thus, the enemies who had been hiding among the trees were forced to flee. About twenty or thirty of them, too slow to react or not physically robust enough, suffocated and lost their way in the fire, perishing in the blaze.

Only a bit more than twenty managed to escape.

Their clothes were tattered, making them look little more than militia. But what Venigo saw through his Eye of Perception was intriguing.

Their right eyes were clearly different from the left, and their arms were unnaturally muscular, out of proportion with the rest of their bodies.

Venigo’s first thought was human modification.

The ambushers carried longbows and two quivers of arrows each. The bows looked ordinary—plain, unadorned, and rough-hewn.

“So, about fifty archers in all, and these must be mass-produced, modified soldiers,” Venigo murmured with a sly smile.

The ambushers quickly spotted their target. They raised their longbows, swiftly nocked arrows, and in an instant, over twenty arrows whooshed through the air toward Venigo.

Venigo narrowed his eyes. Stepping on currents of air, he darted out of the rain of arrows, reappearing above the heads of the assailants.

This was the hardest direction for archers to target.

“So that’s it. Ordinary people, but given abnormally strong arms and sharp right eyes. This emphasis on mass production and raw performance, with no regard for aesthetics, really does remind me of the Red Soviets…” Venigo chuckled again, raising his hand as a small gust flickered between the fingers of his left hand.

A finger-gun powered by strength used hardened fingers to achieve bullet-like velocity, piercing and wounding with deadly force. But Venigo’s finger-gun, fueled by the Azure Sky, was more like a true firearm.

By compressing and spinning air, he could focus its power into a single point, unleashing an attack equivalent to a real bullet.

Finger-Gun: M16.

The contest between the M16 automatic rifle and the longbow had only one possible outcome. Archers had great difficulty aiming straight upward; even if they fired, Venigo could easily evade—after all, the Azure Sky’s greatest strength was its nimble control.

“As expected, aside from strength and eyesight, these archers have no special skills at all—just ordinary people.” When silence finally fell, Venigo descended to the ground.

“These really are normal longbows, but the grain and elasticity suggest they’re made of high-quality material,” Venigo mused, picking up one of the fallen longbows for a closer look.

“Yangming Sect…” he murmured, “I see. It’s rumored that the Yangming Sect has an alien patron… Biotechnology, genetically modified fast-growing trees, what else?”

Though the bows were crudely made, their design was sound. Venigo’s perception showed that the limbs were fashioned from specially bred, gene-edited timber. Simple to process, these bows could be produced in large quantities in a short time, yet their performance was not inferior to military-issue longbows.

Venigo summoned Ramen, bundled all the longbows together, and slung them over his companion’s back, hauling along two corpses as well—samples to take back.

On the transport ship, Viscount Salim watched with a grave face as Venigo presented the two bodies.

“Fifty men, all archers like this,” Venigo explained. “See? Almost ordinary people, except for the abnormal swelling of the arm muscles, and the difference between their eyes. As far as I know, there’s only one kind of person who excels at making things like this.”

Warlords—renowned for their formidable offensive magic, but also skilled in biological modification. Their ultimate creation, the Knight Supreme, served as both masterpiece and bodyguard.

Sir Salim seemed to share this view.

But Venigo knew the true enemy was the Yangming Sect.

The Super Yangming Sect.

Viscount Salim took no chances. He dispatched his swordsmen to land and conduct a second sweep of Venigo’s battlefield, delivering a finishing blow to every corpse and gathering all items that could reveal their identities.

They were indeed elite: moving in step, swift and lethal, orderly and efficient.

“All clear. Area secure.” The swordsmen’s captain swung his sword in semaphore, reporting to Salim.

“Well done. As expected of Lady Fris, who could train such an efficient, reliable team,” Venigo praised.

Hearing this, the ever-stern Salim could not help but let the corners of his mouth curl ever so slightly.

“How extravagant, little brother. Was that a magic scroll you used earlier? How much gold does it cost?” Yarrow, the mage from Melak’s squad, sidled up and whispered.

“It was just an experimental piece, nothing as fancy as a Hellfire scroll,” Venigo replied quietly. “The area of effect is quite large, but the fire’s not nearly as hot as your little fireball—just enough to ignite a whole forest.”

“Hm… But it seemed awfully effective,” Yarrow mused.

“Want some? Ten gold coins each, with a free ignition device,” Venigo grinned.

Yarrow hesitated, but actually pulled out a handful of coins.

“I’ll take three.”

“What are you planning…?” Venigo laughed. “Wait a bit—I’ll make them for you later.”

“You’re making them on the spot?” Yarrow was startled. “You made those yourself?”

Venigo just chuckled, neither confirming nor denying.

That evening, Venigo once again prayed for alchemical success and crafted three more cloudburst spheres, passing them to Yarrow the following day. At the same time, he examined the dozens of wooden bows he’d collected, experimenting with alchemy to see what improvements could be made…

There were plenty of test samples. After ruining ten wooden longbows, Venigo finally achieved some results with the aid of his Eye of Perception and advanced alchemy.

He created six longbows imbued with magical sigils. The enchantments were quite simple—no stronger than the most basic of spells—but these six bows were linked, forming a resonant array.

Venigo had assembled a magical formation of six enchanted longbows.

“Like this—if all six of you draw your bows at once…” Venigo explained to the six archery specialists under Viscount Salim. “Can you feel it? Your strength is gathered together.”

Standing at the center of the formation, the captain nodded slightly and gave a low command: “Loose!”

All six released simultaneously. The bows gave a sharp, collective snap, and a bolt of lightning shot forth, streaking into the distance in a flash.

Six bows, but only a single arrow. Yet that arrow carried the combined power of all six.

Resonance—he named it the Resonant Longbow. Venigo recorded the necessary spellwork and sent it to Sir Newton using the courier familiar Newton had left him.

It wasn’t long before Sir Newton replied, praising Venigo’s creativity. Of course, Newton himself had little use for such basic magical applications, but he was grateful on behalf of Sir Tamp.

This enchantment would be most useful to Sir Tamp, the kingdom’s most renowned swordmaster, responsible for training nearly all of the elite troops under the Eight Grand Commanders. Next in line would be Sir Skamon, who commanded the kingdom’s finest archers.

They would not forget young Venigo, even if he was just a little fox.