Chapter 7: The Young Fox with a Sword

The Young Fox with a Sword

“What do you want, child? A child, really?” The old man’s voice drifted out from between the shelves—a little old fellow dressed in peculiar clothes, busily packing up mountains of goods while still greeting him.

“I want to buy a few things,” Venigo replied.

“What do you want?” the little old man repeated.

“Do you have mercury?” Venigo asked. “Any ores? Toy swords?”

“Mercury? Only potion shops have that. We deal in ores, but usually don’t sell them. As for toys… how about that one?” The old man pointed to a longsword hanging on the wall.

It was ornate and broad, obviously hollow, probably carved from planks and lacquered. It was said that some nobles liked to use such things for show.

“I don’t have much cash. Will you take these instead?” Venigo emptied a handful of rings and necklaces from his pocket—loot from robbing Sheepcall cultists or scavenging.

“These aren’t worth much,” the old man glanced over and said.

“Heh, you really think I don’t know what these are?” Venigo grinned. He picked up each ring in turn, rattling off their origins, distinguishing features, and magical properties in detail. As someone who hunted for bugs in games, Venigo remembered such information with exceptional clarity.

The old man’s mouth fell open wider and wider. It took him a long moment to recover and begin haggling with Venigo over the value of the rings and necklaces. Finally, they settled on a price both could accept.

Venigo purchased the toy sword he needed, as well as several pieces of ore.

The ore wasn’t of high quality. In certain towns, alchemists would use such ore to craft weapons, armor, or various items, but Venigo had his own use for it.

Alchemy basics: extraction!

After extracting, the small amount of metal obtained was a refined alloy. If brought to a blacksmith, it could be combined with fine steel to create specialized weapons and armor. But that would be Merak’s job.

Venigo also visited the herb and alchemy supply shop, exchanging all his coins for mercury. He bought a special travel flask to seal away these precious materials.

Now Venigo had enough mercury to last him for some time.

Six hours later, the four-person adventuring party returned to the inn. By then, Venigo had donned his alchemist persona and extracted all the metals from the ore.

Seeing Merak and the others return, Venigo was quick to bring out the alloy he had refined. Jemore, who was also skilled in alchemy, immediately recognized their value and accepted them.

He didn’t stand on ceremony with Venigo and handed over the party’s spare magic pouch—a far more valuable item than Venigo’s alloy. Venigo accepted it with equal directness.

“Venigo, you surprise me more every day,” Yarrow laughed.

“Is Mr. Merak in a bad mood?” Venigo asked.

“The officials at Ironfist Castle want us to clear out the nearby Sheepcall cultists and roaming monsters,” Yarrow explained, “but we’re really in a hurry to take care of another task.”

“Let me help,” Venigo said with a light smile. “I’m up to this kind of fight, surely.”

“No problem?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t push myself.”

After some discussion, Merak and the others agreed that Venigo could indeed be of help. The four-person team was well-balanced in their professions, but they had no backup. Venigo’s small, agile form after transformation, along with his speed, made him well-suited as a scout.

At dawn, the four and a cat set out, leaving Ironfist Castle, passing through the lower town, and heading into the wilds beyond. Their first target was the nearby Dragoon Cavern, once occupied by a group calling themselves the Dragoons, whom Merak’s team had driven out through hard battle over a year ago.

Now, however, someone else had taken over the cave, using it as a base to frequently rob caravans and travelers between New Sophic Town and Ironfist Castle.

“I’ll go in first and have a look,” Venigo said at the cave entrance.

“Be careful,” Veraine reminded him.

“Don’t push yourself. If there’s danger, withdraw immediately,” Yarrow added.

Venigo nodded and stepped lightly into the cave, not transforming.

Entering the darkness, he calmly drew the toy-like longsword from his magic pouch, hung it at his waist, tied a red headband around his brow, and donned a makeshift breastplate fashioned from sheets of white iron.

Character selected. Analysis complete… Constructing. Cress Albane—construction complete!

This time, Venigo chose the protagonist of Tales of Phantasia; limited by his own level, he could only use the prologue version of the Cress template. The red headband, longsword, and breastplate were all characteristic of Cress.

Venigo could, as Cress, chain together triple-digit combos and grind down enemies almost unscathed—but at the moment, his Cress manifestation was only level two, capable of using only a single skill: Lightning Blade. That was far from sufficient.

He took a slow breath, recalling everything he knew about Cress Albane, and stepped forward.

His footsteps weren’t exactly light; in the quiet cave, they echoed.

He heard faint squeaking sounds. Suddenly, several rat-headed, human-bodied beastmen burst from the shadows.

Ratman bandits? Weren’t these creatures from Might and Magic VII or VIII? Venigo thought.

Demon Fang! Venigo swept his longsword; a fierce blade of light skimmed the ground and exploded against the nearest ratman bandit.

The ratman staggered but did not fall. Venigo sighed inwardly, making a quick assessment of his Cress template’s strength in this world.

It seemed that a level 2 Cress was about on par with a city guard. Facing three or four ratman bandits at once would be challenging.

But before Venigo stood twelve.

Venigo stepped forward and raised his sword.

With stubborn golden hair and a bright red ribbon, embodying the “existence” of Cress, he naturally fought in the Cress style.

Cheerful, warm-hearted, strong and confident—Cress was an excellent guardian. His companions tended to be clerics, mages, summoners, or archers—never a true frontliner.

So, his way of fighting had to be upright and fearless.

Charging into the ratmen’s daggers, Venigo struck a mighty blow. The foe, just recovering from the Demon Fang’s impact, was cleaved down the middle.

Venigo’s sword was only lacquered wood, but as Cress, any sword could display true power.

“Albane School Sword Technique… Cress Albane!” Venigo called in a low voice, swinging his sword in a horizontal slash.

The sword was longer than their daggers, and with Cress’s straightforward swordsmanship, Venigo quickly gained the upper hand. He shrewdly kept the fight confined to a corridor that wasn’t too wide.

Too narrow, and the longsword would be hindered; too wide, and he’d be surrounded. Venigo advanced and retreated, controlling the enemy’s rhythm so that the battle progressed just as he hoped.

One, two… soon, half the ratmen were down. At this point, he could charge in and cut down the rest in direct combat.

However… getting hurt meant consuming precious mercury… That thought calmed Venigo again.

He continued to lure his foes, drawing the ratmen to spots where he could wield his sword freely, and dispatched them one by one.

Tedious, perhaps, but highly efficient.

Soon, Venigo had cleared half the cave. Not far ahead, he saw a clearly man-made stone door.

If memory served, beyond that door lay the most dangerous part of the Dragoon Cavern. Venigo knew his target was likely inside, but entering meant throwing himself into deadly peril.

He waited a moment, then looked down at himself.

The Cress “existence” was a bit battered, but the injuries he’d taken weren’t serious. The coming fight shouldn’t be too dangerous.

But—beyond the stone door, the enemies might not be as weak as these ratmen.

Approaching the door, he reached out to push it—paused, then quickly withdrew his hand, stepped back twice, hesitated, then left. Before long, Venigo dragged back the corpse of a ratman, hurling it at the stone door.

A trap—brilliant lightning crackled into being. Venigo exhaled hard; if he’d taken a hit from that, he’d have been destroyed instantly.

The stone door rumbled open. Venigo raised his sword and struck hard.

A loud clang—pain shot through his hand, forcing him back a step.

Facing him stood a burly warrior, fully armored and helmeted, wielding an eagle shield and longsword.

Venigo froze for half a second, then turned and bolted.

No need to check—this opponent could easily defeat him one-on-one, and there were four more henchmen behind.

It seemed Venigo was truly in a tight spot…