Chapter Ninety-Two: The young fox blessed for a day

Under the dreadful force of the great axe, the silver cloud burst apart at once, and cracks began to show faintly on Venigo’s round shield. Yet worse still was the steel great axe in Grins’s hands: it shattered.

Grins’s bull-like eyes widened in shock. This axe had once been able to cleave through steel armor as though it were nothing!

The rebound of the attack, combined with the ultimate charge of the stars, was as if Venigo and Grins had joined forces to pulverize that poor axe together.

Venigo did not care in the least that blood was gushing from his mouth. He knew perfectly well that the mercury vials he had prepared were nearly exhausted, but it no longer mattered. The outcome had been decided.

The victor was Venigo, and the loser was...

Grins.

While Grins was still stunned, Venigo cast aside his damaged shield and lunged forward, throwing his whole body into Grins.

Final Justice!

The Caped Hero’s strongest attack was to abandon his mightiest shield of defense and launch an all-out assault with no thought for retreat. It was called Final Justice because it truly was a strike that decided life and death.

If it did not win, it killed; therefore it was called final.

Beneath the blue tights, Venigo’s muscles swelled and flushed red, proof that both veins and flesh were working under extreme strain. In an instant he drew in vast amounts of oxygen, his heart hammering wildly, driving every reserve of energy in his body to surge through him at once, commanding every muscle to unleash a string of ferocious attacks in a single instant.

Final Justice. Killing blow achieved!

Venigo fell to one knee, gasping hard. He immediately canceled the character construct, not even lifting his head.

The three demons and six minotaur hunters around him seized the chance and rushed in.

“Venigo, I’m coming!” The Little Wolf Princess laughed as she sprang from the wooden house, with the Big Cat close behind.

Sophie nodded to Venigo from afar, shielding Hani.

Their party had no dedicated spellcaster or archer, which made them seem somewhat lopsided. Yet no one dared underestimate this team.

The duration of God Bless for a Day was long, and under that divine art, capable of turning the tide in one blow, the Little Wolf Princess and the Big Cat possessed equally terrifying killing power.

It took them only ten minutes to wipe out every demon and minotaur.

Venigo took out a spare small mercury vial from his belt and poured it into his palm. The instant the mercury touched his body, it vanished without a trace, and Venigo activated the character construct once more.

Same old routine: scavenging.

The boy is collecting bones.

“The Kriegs side is done; there’s nothing left to do here. Let’s go to the Icewind Plateau and find Sir Scamon. Hani, shouldn’t you also go ask Sir Stone about the questions you’ve had while learning divine arts?” Venigo said, looking up after searching through the last minotaur corpse.

“Oh... by the way, who wrote that book of notes on the light divine arts that Brother Venigo gave me last time? It’s amazing. So many little details are easy to miss, but they’re really helpful in cultivation,” little Hani said, her eyes shining. “It’s a pity she only wrote the beginner section.”

“Oh... I’ll ask for you.” Venigo smiled.

He had just obtained a new fragment of a sacred emblem and needed to pray to Sophie... Come to think of it, why was that one also called Sophie? It always felt a little strange.

Far away in another world, Sophie, who had long occupied Venigo’s thoughts...

The silent, steadfast Sophie beside him, reliable as a knight...

And that Sophie, bound in the seams between planes, once a high angel and now a false god, the Lord of the Supplicants...

Was there any connection between them?

Venigo sighed.

“Well then, O sovereign Lord I believe in, your only devout follower is praying to you,” Venigo joined his hands and whispered, “All praise belongs to you, great and aloof, merciful ruler who answers the prayers of the faithful. Here I beseech you: instruction for advancing in light divine arts.”

In his hands rested that fragment of the sacred emblem.

“Oh my, what a surprising boy you are. Mm, though that item is rather precious, I’ll give it to you since you’ve helped me find another trace of divinity.” The faint laughter of the girl-god sounded in his mind, and before him, without a sound, appeared a small glowing booklet.

“There you go, for your little friend.” The goddess Sophie chuckled softly and vanished into the depths of his consciousness.

“Such a stingy sovereign...” Venigo sighed and turned to toss the booklet to Hani.

Hani stared at Venigo with bright eyes. Venigo spread his hands and replied, “Don’t look at me like that. If I hadn’t found something good on the Nuobo side, I wouldn’t have been able to get it either.”

Sophie regarded Venigo thoughtfully, tilting her head, but said nothing.

“Alright, let’s go.”

The minotaurs were a bunch of paupers. Their battered iron great axes and armor were even rusted, and most of the hunters didn’t wear armor at all!

What Venigo wanted were the horns of the minotaurs. These sturdy horns held a special power and could be used in making potions and magical items. The minotaurs’ hearts, because of their vigorous life force, were also one of the ingredients for potions.

There were also the demons’ blood and eyes, as well as their filthy claws, all of which were things Venigo collected.

With plenty of materials in hand, before leaving Kriegs, Venigo spent a day using the template of the smith-lich to craft several backup weapons.

“Human.” Before they departed, the minotaur guards stopped them. “Help us with something. This is our clansman, Jerro Great Horn. Please escort him to the Icewind Plateau.”

“Fine. Mister Jerro, can you fight?” Venigo asked.

“How could a warrior of the Great Horn clan forget that?” The fully armed minotaur warrior grinned foolishly and raised the one-handed axe in his hand.

Two blades. This minotaur was, unexpectedly, a rare dual-wielding warrior. Not only did he have a finely made chain shirt and a pair of obviously magical hand axes, but on the leather belt at his waist hung several vials of mixed colors—meaning they were most likely the work of a master alchemist.

“If I may ask, where is your destination?” Venigo asked again.

“To see Sir Scamon. The Great Horn clan needs him to honor the pact. I am a messenger.” Jerro answered in a deep, muffled voice. “So we may come under attack. If you refuse, I’ll go alone.”

“Looks like Jerro has confidence in his own strength,” Venigo said with a grin.

“Actually, I don’t like weak humans,” Jerro replied.

“Actually, I don’t like them much either,” Venigo shrugged. “All right, the cargo is complete. Everyone prepare—set out!”

The mercenary band immediately sprang into action, though it was clear they lacked experience, their foundation was still fairly solid. Under the leadership of Sophie and the two sword instructors, they proceeded in an orderly fashion with breaking camp and marching out.

“Human, what is that thing in your hand?” Jerro asked curiously as soon as they had set off.

“You’re not shy at all, are you?” Venigo said with a smile. “This is a Japanese blade, also called a samurai sword, a weapon that pursues sharpness but is not very durable. Of course, with magic added, it’s barely usable.”

He shook the newly forged weapon in his hand, a slightly slender single-edged longsword. It was a highly contradictory weapon, pursuing extreme sharpness at the cost of some strength; it could be called either a blade or a sword.

Venigo might not especially like such a weapon, but many of his character templates required exactly this kind of love-it-and-hate-it armament.

“Its name is Blowfish Venom,” Venigo said slowly, drawing the weapon a little and looking at it.

“An odd name.”

Venigo gave a low laugh. Today he had changed into a loose white cloth robe, with a Japanese sake flask tied to his belt. What it held, however, was not sake, but mercury.

“Yuri, give me a bottle of strong liquor.” Venigo beckoned to a young mercenary nearby. The young man, two years older than him, immediately ran over with admiration on his face and handed him the liquor flask he carried.

Venigo’s eye for talent was good, and after using the Eye of Appraisal, that “eye” had become even more extraordinary. Through this period of observation, he had already determined whom to cultivate.

Yuri, a young foreign warrior, whose original name was too long and who was bald, had been given this mischievous new name by Venigo.

The other one Venigo had his eye on was the same age as him, yet had the height and weight that even grown men had to look up to... an exceptionally sturdy scar-faced boy.

It was just that he was naturally dull and could not learn complicated martial techniques, so he had long drifted from one small mercenary band to another, used as cheap meat-shield cannon fodder. Still, Venigo was very optimistic about him.

As for the others, they would need further observation.

Venigo had quietly used gene-modifying potions on these two. Of course, in public he said they were magical items found in ruins, and let them decide for themselves. In the end, Yuri and the muscular boy Ilu both used them without hesitation.

After enduring pain, what they gained was rebirth.

Venigo accepted the strong liquor Yuri handed him and smiled faintly. He took a large swig, then spat it onto the blade in his hand with a puff, watching the liquid run along the steel without leaving a single drop behind.

For some reason, although Venigo was not physically strong, a towering and mountain-like bearing naturally arose from him.

He returned the sword to its scabbard and smiled at Jerro. “I hope your enemies won’t disappoint me. This is a newly forged famous blade, but I can’t find a worthy prey to test it on, and that would be a pity.”

This unabashed display made Jerro’s bull eyes narrow involuntarily.

Venigo turned his face toward Yuri and Ilu. Those two did not disappoint him. Though they were on the road, neither had let up in their training for a moment—even when Venigo deliberately told Sophie and the sword instructors not to supervise them.

The mercenary company busied itself at once, but it was apparent that though they lacked experience, they had a decent foundation. Under the guidance of Sophie and the two sword instructors, they carried out the work of breaking camp and marching with methodical order.

“Human, what is that thing in your hand?”

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